In the Heat of the Spotlight (5 page)

Aurelie stilled, her face expressionless. ‘Well,
that
was a waste,’ she finally said, her voice a drawl, and bent to pick up the syringe.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

She eyed him sardonically. ‘I think the more important question is, what do you think I’m doing?’

He stared at her, confusion, fury and shame all rushing through him in a scalding river. This woman drove him
insane
.

Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t?
He’d said he would. ‘It looks,’ he said as evenly as he could, ‘like you’re shooting yourself up with some kind of drug.’

Her lips curved in that way he knew and hated. Mockery. Armour. ‘You get a gold star,’ she said as she swabbed off the syringe with a cotton pad and some rubbing alcohol. ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing.’

And he watched as she carefully injected the syringe into the fleshy part of her upper arm.

Luke felt his hands clench into fists at his sides. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?’

She put the syringe away in a little black cosmetic bag. Luke glimpsed a few clear phials inside before she zipped it up and put it away. She gave a small, tired sigh. ‘Don’t worry, Bryant. It’s only insulin.’

She walked past him back into the bedroom, and Luke turned around to stare at her. ‘
Insulin?
You have diabetes?’

‘Bingo.’ She reached for a fuzzy bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and put it on. Sitting on the edge of the bed, swallowed up by fleece, she looked young and vulnerable and so very alone.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘When should I have done that? When I was passed out on the dressing room floor, or after you dunked me in the sink?’

Slowly he walked into the bedroom, sank onto a chair across from her. He raked his hands through his hair, tried to untangle his tortured, twisted thoughts. ‘So when you were passed out in New York, it was because of low blood sugar?’ Just like she’d said.

‘I forgot to check my bloods before I went.’

‘That’s dangerous—’

She let out a short laugh. ‘Thanks for the warning. Trust me, I know. I’ve been living with diabetes for almost ten years. I was keyed up about the performance and I forgot.’ And then as if she realised she’d revealed too much, she folded her arms and looked away, jaw set, eyes hard.

‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier? In the kitchen, when I
asked
?’

‘You wouldn’t have believed me—’

‘I said I would—’

‘Oh, yes, you
said
.’ Her eyes flashed malice. ‘Well, maybe you’re not such a Boy Scout after all, because I don’t think you were telling the truth.’

‘It was,’ Luke said, an edge creeping into his voice, ‘a little hard to believe you were passed out just from lack of food. If I’d known you had a
condition
—’

‘And maybe I don’t feel like explaining myself every time something looks a little suspicious,’ she snapped. ‘If you were passed out, would someone assume you’d done drugs? Were a junkie?’

‘No, of course not. But I’m not—’

She leaned forward, eyes glittering. ‘You’re not what?’

Luke stared at her, his mind still spinning. ‘I’m not you,’ he said at last. ‘You’re
Aurelie
.’ The moment he said it, he knew it had been completely the wrong thing to say. To think.

She turned away from him, her jaw set. ‘I am, aren’t I,’ she said quietly.

Luke dropped his head in his hands. ‘I only meant you’ve been known to...to...’

‘I know what I’ve been known to do.’ Her eyes flashed, her chin trembled. He could always tell the truth of her from that chin. She was scared. And sad. Hell, so was he.
How had they got here?

He shook his head, weary and heartsick, but also angry. ‘What happened back there on the bed, Aurelie? Why did you look like...’ He could barely say it. ‘Like you were being tortured? Or attacked? Were you trying to prove some point?’ Had she set him up, shown him to be exactly what she’d accused, just another man determined to get her into bed? ‘Well, I guess you made it,’ he said heavily when she didn’t answer. ‘Congratulations.’

Still she said nothing, just stared him down, and in that silence Luke wondered if things could have turned out any worse.

‘Do you still want me to go?’ she finally asked. ‘To Asia?’

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. ‘Do you still
want
to go? After this?’

She raised her eyebrows, her expression so very cold. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’

He felt a rush of anger, cleaner than shame. She’d
played
him. Admittedly, he’d let himself be played. He’d been willing to be seduced, had turned it to his advantage. But the fact remained that she’d used him, coldly and deliberately, to prove some twisted, paranoid point. He hadn’t had a sexual agenda until she’d sat in his lap.

Liar.

‘Yes, you can go to Asia,’ he told her wearily. Something good would come out of this unholy affair. ‘I’ll have my PA email you the details. You need to be in Manila on the twenty-fourth.’ With that he stood up and he saw, with some gratification, that her eyes had widened.

‘You’re going?’

‘I don’t want to stay and, frankly, I don’t think you want me to, either. Like I said, you made your point.’

She stared at him, still swallowed up by her bathrobe, her eyes wide and stormy. Luke felt the shame slither inside him again. ‘I didn’t come here intending to sleep with you,’ he said. ‘I swear to God I didn’t.’

She said nothing and with a shake of his head he left the room.

CHAPTER FIVE

A
URELIE
gazed at
her reflection for the fifth time in the hall mirror of the deluxe suite Luke had booked for her in the Mandarin Oriental in Manila’s business district. She’d arrived a few hours ago and was meeting Luke in the bar in ten minutes.

And she was sick and dizzy with nerves.

She let out a deep breath and checked her reflection again. She wore just basic make-up, mostly to disguise the violet circles under her eyes since she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since Luke had walked out of her bedroom ten days ago.

She closed her eyes briefly, the memories making her even dizzier. She couldn’t think about Luke without reliving that awful encounter. The condemnation and disgust in his eyes. The
confusion
. And her own impossible behaviour.

She hadn’t brought him to her bed to set him up, the way Luke had so obviously thought. She’d been acting out of need and maybe even desire—at least at first. When she’d touched him she’d felt something unfurl inside her, something that had been desperately seeking light. But then it had all gone wrong, as it always did. The moment she was stretched out on that bed she’d gone numb. He’d become just a man who wanted something from her, and he’d get it, no matter what. She’d give it to him, because that was what she did.

Except he hadn’t taken it, which made him different from every other man she’d known. Why did that thought scare her so much?

He obviously didn’t think
she
was different. She could still see the look of disgust twisting Luke’s features, the condemnation in his eyes when he’d opened the door to the bathroom. He thought she’d been doing drugs. And then those damning words, words she felt were engraved on her heart, tattooed on her forehead. Impossible to escape.

You’re Aurelie.

For a little while she’d thought he believed she wasn’t but now she knew the truth. He might want her to be different on stage, but he didn’t think she could really change as a person.

Aurelie with a folk ballad and guitar was just another act to Luke Bryant, a successful one that would help with his stupid store openings.

And as long as she remembered that, she’d be fine. No more longing to reach or be reached. To know or be known. No more giving in to that fragile need, that fledgling desire.

This was business, strictly business, a chance for her to validate her career if not her very self. And that was fine. She’d make sure it was.

Aurelie straightened, briskly checked her reflection for the sixth time. She looked a little pale, a bit drawn, but overall okay. The lime-green shift dress struck, she hoped, the right note between fun and professional. With a deep breath, she left her suite and went downstairs to meet Luke.

The tropical heat of the Philippines had hit her the moment she’d stepped off the plane, and she felt it drape over her once more as she stepped outside like a hot, wet blanket. Luke had texted her to say he’d meet her in the patio bar and she walked through the velvety darkness looking for him, the palm trees rustling in a sultry breeze, the sounds of a vibrant and never-sleeping city carrying on the humid air.

She found him sitting on a stool by the bar, and everything inside her seemed to lurch as she looked at him. He wore a slightly rumpled suit, his tie loosened, and in the glint of the bar’s dim lighting she could see the shadow of stubble on his jaw. His head was bowed and he held a half-drunk tumbler of whisky in his hand. She stared at him almost as she would a stranger, for he looked so different and yet so much the same. So
sexy
.

Then he glanced up and as he caught sight of her it was as if that sexy stranger had been replaced by a mannequin. His face went blank, his eyes veiled even as his lips curved in a meaningless smile and he crossed the patio towards her.

‘Aurelie.’ He kept his gaze firmly on her face, that cool, professional smile in place. He didn’t offer her a hand to shake or touch her in any way. Stupidly, she felt his chilly withdrawal like a personal rejection.

No, she would not let this be personal. This was her chance at a comeback, and to hell with Luke Bryant.

‘Luke.’ She nodded back at him, tried to ignore the painful pounding of her heart.
This didn’t hurt.

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Just sparkling water, please.’

Luke signalled to the bartender and ushered her towards a private table tucked in the corner, shaded by a palm tree.

‘Trip all right?’ he asked briskly. ‘Your suite?’

‘Everything’s lovely.’

‘Good.’

The bartender came with their drinks and Aurelie sipped hers gratefully. She had no idea what to say to this man. She didn’t
know
this man. And she knew that shouldn’t be a surprise.

‘So everything is set for tomorrow,’ he said, still all brisk business. ‘I have a staff person on site, Lia, who will tour you around the store, get you sorted for the performance at three.’

Aurelie stared at his blank eyes and brisk smile and thought suddenly,
You’re lying.
So much for honesty. This whole conversation was forced, fake. A lie.

Yet she had no idea what he really felt. Was he disgusted with her, with who he thought she was?
You’re Aurelie.

Or could she dare hope that some remnant remained of the man who had smiled at her with such compassion, such understanding, and seemed to believe she was different?

No, she didn’t dare. There was no point.

‘That all sounds fine,’ she said, and he nodded.

‘Good.’ He hadn’t finished his drink, but he pushed it away from him, clearly done. ‘I’m afraid I have quite a lot of work to do, but I’ll probably see you at the opening.’

Probably?
Aurelie felt her throat go tight and took another sip of water. Somehow she managed a breezy smile. ‘That sounds fine,’ she said again, knowing she was being inane, but then he was too. This whole conversation was ridiculous. And a desperate part of her still craved something real.

‘Fine,’ Luke said, and with one more nod he rose from the chair. Aurelie rose too. She hadn’t finished her water but neither was she about to sit in the bar alone. So that was it. Yet what had she really expected?

Even so, she could not keep a sense of desolation from sweeping emptily through her as Luke strode away from the bar without a backward glance.

* * *

That went well.
Not.
Luke tugged his tie from his collar and blew out his breath. He knew he didn’t possess the charm of his brother Chase or Aaron’s unending arrogance, but he could definitely have handled that conversation better. He’d been trying to keep it brisk and professional, but every time he looked at her he remembered how she’d felt in his arms, how much emotion and desire she’d stirred up in him, and business went right out of the window.

Maybe it wasn’t actually Aurelie who was doing this to him. Maybe he was just out of practice. He hadn’t had sex in a while, and he’d always been careful with his partners. A relationship came first with him, always had, because he’d never wanted to be like his father, going after everything in a skirt and ruining his mother’s life in the process.

But maybe if he’d indulged in a few more flings, he wouldn’t be feeling so...lost now. He’d gone over their encounter—was there really another word for it?—far too many times in his mind. Wondered when it had started to go wrong, and why. Had Aurelie been setting him up, the way he’d believed? Proving her damn point that he’d only come there to get into her bed? It seemed obvious, and yet a gut-deep instinct told him it wasn’t the whole story.

He remembered the raw ache in her voice when she’d spoken to him.
I like how you say my name.
The way her fingers had trailed down his cheek, eager and hesitant at the same time, the tremble of her slender body against his. She’d felt something then. Something real.

And then she’d gone so horribly still beneath him and he’d felt as if he were...
attacking
her. He’d never felt so repulsed, so ashamed.

The best thing to do, he told himself now, the
only
thing to do, was to avoid her. Easier for both of them. He’d only suggested this meeting as a way to clear the air, draw a firm line under what had happened. And that at least had been accomplished, even if he still felt far from satisfied in any way.

As he headed back up to his suite, Luke had a feeling the next ten days were going to be a whole new kind of hell.

* * *

Aurelie stood to the side of the makeshift stage in Bryant’s lobby and tried not to hyperventilate. A thousand people mingled in the soaring space, all modern chrome and glass, so different from the historic and genteel feeling of the New York store.

She’d spent the morning with Lia, touring all ten floors of the store on Ayala Avenue and then running through sound checks and getting ready. And trying not to think about what lay ahead.

What was happening
now
, with the crowd waiting for her to walk out and be Aurelie.

Fear washed coldly through her, made her dizzy. At least she’d checked her blood sugar. If she passed out now, it would simply be from nerves.

‘Thirty seconds.’ The guy who was doing the sound nodded towards her, and somehow Aurelie nodded back. She was miked, ready to go—and terrified.

She peeped out at the audience, saw the excited crowd, some of them clutching posters or CDs for her to sign. They were, she knew, expecting her to prance out there and sing
Take Me Down
or one of the other boppy, salacious numbers that had made her famous. They wanted her to sing and shimmy and be outrageous, and she was going to come out in her jeans, holding her guitar, and give everyone an almighty shock.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to this? What had Luke been thinking, suggesting it? It wasn’t going to work. It was all going to go hideously, horribly wrong, for the store, for her, for everyone, and it was too late to do anything about it.

She closed her eyes, terror racing through her.

I can’t do this. I can’t change.

She wished, suddenly and desperately, that Luke were here. A totally stupid thing to want considering how cold he’d been to her last night, but just the memory of his voice, his tender, gentle look when he’d said her song was amazing gave her a little surge of both longing and courage.

‘You’re on.’

On wobbly, jelly-like legs she walked onto the stage. Considering she’d played sold-out concerts in the biggest arenas in the world, she should not be feeling nervous. At all. This was a tiny stage, a tiny audience. This was nothing.

And yet it was everything.

She felt the ripple of uneasy surprise go through the audience at the sight of her, felt it like a serpent slithering round the room, ready to strike. Already she was not what anybody had expected.

She sat on the stool in the centre of the stage, hooked her feet around the rungs and looked up to stare straight at Luke. He stood at the back of the lobby near the doors, but it was a small enough space she could make out his expression completely.

He looked cold, hard and completely unyielding. Their gazes met and, his mouth thinning, he looked away. Aurelie tensed, felt herself go brittle, shiny.

‘Give us a song,’ someone called out, impatience audible. ‘Give us Aurelie!’

Well, that was easy enough. That was who she was. Drawing a deep breath, she started to play.

* * *

Luke stood in the back of the lobby waiting for Aurelie to come on, battling a disagreeable mix of anxiety and impatience. He’d been deliberately avoiding her since their drink together last night, had convinced himself that it was the best way forward. Yet, standing there alone, he felt an irritating needle of doubt prick his conscience.

Avoidance had never been his style. Avoidance meant letting someone down, and that was something he never intended to do again. He’d worked hard all his adult life to exorcise the ghosts of his past, to earn the trust and respect of those around him.

Even Aurelie’s.

He didn’t like the thought of her getting ready for this performance on her own. He knew this had to be pretty terrifying for her. He should have sought her out, offered her—what? Some encouragement?

He knew where that led.

No, it was better this way. It had to be. And it wasn’t as if Aurelie actually needed him.

Luke heard the ripple of uneasy surprise move through the audience as she walked onto the stage. She looked vibrant and beautiful in a beaded top and jeans, her hair loose about her shoulders. Then she looked at him, her eyes so wide and clear, and a sudden, sharp longing pierced him. He looked away.

Someone called out, and Aurelie started to play. It took him a few stunned seconds to realise she wasn’t singing the song he’d heard in her house back in Vermont. She was singing one of her old hits, the same boppy number she’d sung in New York, but this time to acoustic guitar. She glanced up from her guitar, gave the audience a knowing, dirty smile. A classic Aurelie look, and one Luke already hated. Everyone cheered.

Disappointment and frustration blazed through him. This wasn’t what they’d agreed. Why had she changed their deal? Was it fear—or some kind of twisted revenge?

The song ended, and Luke heard the familiar mixture of catcalls and cheers. Nothing had changed. So much for the ultimate reinvention. Aurelie walked off the stage, and even though there were several local dignitaries waiting for him to escort them through the store, Luke turned and walked away from it all.

He found her in the break room she’d been using, just as before, to change. Her back was to him as she put her guitar away, and under the flowing top he could see the knobs of her spine, the bared nape of her neck as she bent her head. Desire and anger flared inside him, one giving life to the other.

‘You didn’t play your song.’

She turned towards him, her face completely expressionless. ‘Actually, I did.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘It wasn’t going to work. I warned you, you know.’