Just a Fan (19 page)

'Connor, come back!' I hissed, amused but at the same time outraged at his audacity as he went to answer the door without getting dressed first.

He was deaf to my words, resolutely disappearing from the room. At a loss what to do, I nervously pulled the sheets up to my neck where I sat as I heard him open the front door.

There was a long, extensive pause, as if my visitor was struck dumb at the sight of a tall, bare-chested Scotsman with mussed curls standing in the doorway, dressed only in his boxers.

I heard a weak: 'Oh, my...' Apparently Connor's charms worked on old women, too. But this was crotchety old Mrs Windsor - her indignation at having caught me with a "young man" in my flat fought to overrule her shock at seeing such a muscular, compelling man before her. I could only guess what had happened before; Mrs Windsor had probably woken up when I had knocked the phone table over, and upon going to her door she had seen Connor...it had probably taken her a short while to find her slippers before she had managed to rush out of her own flat to come and confront me. Even though I was alone, I blushed hotly at what Mrs Windsor must be assuming in seeing Connor with just his boxers on in the middle of the night.

I waited with baited breath for Mrs Windsor's wrath to unfold upon him...but there was only silence.

And then it came: 'Goodness gracious me, young man! I should have known that Miss Harwick was getting up to no good! I told her time and time again - this is simply disgraceful! Have you no shame, keeping an old lady up all night with slamming doors and footsteps up and down the staircases! I'll have you know that -'

'Madam, I'm afraid Lillian has had a rather trying time recently and needs rest,' I heard Connor's calm, deliciously vibrant voice murmuring. 'As somebody who appreciates peace and quiet, you will probably understand. It's not good for her to have to live in constant threat of being thrown out, the poor lass...'

In the dim bedroom, I blinked. In all my life, I had never heard anybody stand up to Mrs Windsor. Yet here was Connor, putting her politely in her place and defending me at the same time! I listened in stunned surprise as he proceeded to calmly tell her several reasons why she should leave me in peace. I could hardly believe that he was doing this for me...

He said he loved me, before
, I remembered. He must really actually care, then...

Connor finished his patient monologue, and there was a brief moment of silence. I held my breath.

'Young man...' Mrs Windsor's tone was oddly different. 'You look strangely familiar to me.'

There was another pause.

'In fact, you look very much like the gentleman who plays Laurence Myers in that delightful movie I saw on the telly last night...' she murmured. 'Is your name...?'

'Connor MacGowan, yes,' replied Connor.

'Oh...' She sounded very breathless indeed, then her tone became saturated with apologetic regret. 'I'm so dreadfully sorry, Mr MacGowan, I hadn't realised I was intruding...I'll leave you be! Goodnight, then - and might I say how marvellous you were as Laurence Myers...'

'Thank you,' Connor said with a smile in his voice, and then a few seconds later the door closed and he reappeared in my bedroom. His grin lit up the whole room, even though I could barely see him. 'She'll not be bothering you any more, I shouldn't think,' he told me with an air of great satisfaction.

'Wow...I don't know what to say...that was really nice of you, Connor,' I said earnestly as he crawled onto the bed to lie down beside me, his eyelids heavy with sleep.

'Anytime, Lilly.'

Just before we fell asleep, I smiled to myself.

'I still can't believe she saw you in your undies, though.'

Chapter 13

Courage

Our reconciliation was tentative and gradual, but this time it felt as if it was really going to last. The frank, honest deal we had struck had helped us start afresh with something stronger between us:
trust.

Although Connor never ventured too near to my apartment in broad daylight, we still managed to meet regularly enough. Our meetings would often take place at his house, and we would freely talk together just as we had in the first few weeks of our relationship. For some reason, however, Connor flatly refused to give more than the vague details about what had happened to him when we had been apart. All he told me was that he had felt awful and had done some pretty stupid things which he regretted, but were not important any more. I wisely made the decision not to press him on the matter; I didn't really want to know exactly what stupid things he had done - I just felt immensely glad that there was a good chance this unexpected relationship between us might last. It was a miracle that it had survived this long already, and if it had the power to drag a man like Connor back to me even after he had seriously thought about taking a break, then there surely was something important about it.

One day as Connor was driving me back home, I had begun to think even more about what he had said to me when he had come back that night. I gave him a sneaky, sidelong glance. It was not often that a man told me he loved me. In fact, Connor was actually the first to say it and truly mean it. This thought never failed to surprise me and make me feel as dizzy and light-headed as I had on my very first days out with him.

'Lilly?' Connor said, distracting me.

'Yes?'

He paused for a short moment, then told me: 'When we were...taking a break, I got your message on the answerphone.'

Oh, God.

'If I said anything silly, I apologise...it's just that I
was
quite angry and -' I began hurriedly, but Connor just shook his head.

'No, no, it wasnae silly at all,' he said. 'In fact, it was very convincing and persuasive. I was already beginning to regret taking time away from you when I heard your very...forceful arguments.'

'Oh...' I murmured quietly, blushing slightly in embarrassment. I couldn't remember what I had said in that message I had left him, but I certainly hoped I had not made an idiot of myself.

'You really made me realise how wrong I was to doubt you like that,' Connor told me frankly. 'I can't say how glad I am that I didn't end up losing you - if I had, and you'd just slammed the door in my face on that night, then I don't know
where
I'd be right now...'

'Probably somewhere in America...' I replied dreamily, not really thinking about what I was saying due to the fact that I was still dwelling upon this revelation.

'Oh, yeah - that reminds me!' Connor suddenly said. 'God, how did it slip my mind like that? Must be your intoxicating presence...' He gave me a very familiar mischievous grin. 'My manager called, and said that the director of
Twenty Miles Below
had called him to tell me that shooting begins a week from now!'

My smile slipped, and the rosy flush drained from my cheeks. No...he couldn't be
leaving
! Not
again
! Last time he had gone, there had been so much loneliness and tension - this couldn't be happening right now, just when we had come closer than we ever had before! This was all going in terrible, endless circles...I had known he would eventually have to leave, but not so
soon
...

I opened my mouth to express my disappointment, but was interrupted.

'
However
,' Connor added emphatically, foreseeing my distress, 'I'm no' that keen on leaving you once again, so...I'm taking you with me.'

My look of dejection froze.

'You what?'

Connor grinned broadly as he parked the car.

'I'm taking you with me,' he repeated calmly, mounting the kerb with ease. He stopped the car and put on the handbrake, then turned to face me. I was still staring at him, pop-eyed.

'To...to
America
?' I asked weakly.

'Aye.'

I blinked at him a few times, the information slow to sink in.

'But...I've never been out of Europe before,' I said perplexedly, still trying to register what he was saying.

'Well, here's your chance!' Connor told me with a bright, opportunistic smile. 'You can stay with me at my penthouse in New York. Of course, I won't be around very often, with all the filming going on, but we'll still be able to see each other.' He grinned at my lingering look of shocked surprise. 'We'll be taking first class to the US next Saturday, if you're up for it. Unless you'd rather stay here again...'

'Oh, no - no, I'd
love
to come!' I quickly told him. 'It's just...wow. I can hardly believe it. I've never been to the US before...'

'It's a very big place,' Connor told me.

'Really?

'Very.'

'Ooh...' The surprise began to give way to excitement that I allowed to grow, unhindered by the nervousness and doubts that I was beginning to have.

By asking me to come with him, Connor had unknowingly made me realise once again how fortunate I was. The US was where he was most well-known; it was
his
world out there. It was the place where he spent most of his time, after all, and to want me to come with him was something I found very touching and wonderful.

'It's going to be a long flight, isn't it?' I said grimly, thinking ahead with mild trepidation.

'Aye, but we'll be in first class, so it'll be just fine,' Connor reassured me. My eyes widened in pleasant surprise, though I supposed it was only to be expected. First class? I had never even been in
business
class before! All the plane flights I had ever taken had been with all the regular passengers, cramped together six-in-a-row. Not too many fond memories there...but first class? I had only
daydreamed
about going in first class...

'I suppose it will,' I agreed dazedly, then gave him a breathless smile. 'You really are very kind, Connor.'

He gave me a modest grin. 'Did you think I was going to put you in my suitcase instead?' he teased, and I laughed. Then, he became slightly more serious, putting his warm palms upon either side of my face. 'But I want you to be careful out there, OK? There'll be far more people with cameras in New York, and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble...'

'I won't mind them,' I assured him bravely, then smiled shyly. 'We made a deal, remember?'

His lovely teeth gleamed at me again. 'Aye, that I do,' he said.

There was a long pause.

'Are you going to take your hands off my face now?' I asked him quietly, still enraptured.

'Can I kiss you first?' he murmured gently, his blue gaze now serious.

'If I can possibly repay you in that way, then I suppose you can,' I replied, very much aware of how I had missed those lips of his.

'Ah, but you already
have
repaid me, lass!' he chuckled fondly, then leaned forwards before I could respond. My mind immediately stopped working at the touch of that lovely mouth, and all I could do was reverently stroke those thick, lustrous curls of his, just as I had long yearned to do. As the world dissolved into a senseless blur, I dreamily realised that this was the first time this year that he had kissed me. And to think that I had believed he never would...

After a tender, passionate minute or two, Connor reluctantly unstuck himself, his soft, dark locks untidy and sticking up all over the place from my enthusiastic carresses. 'We'd better save this for my house or yours,' he chuckled a little breathlessly, the expressive lines around his mouth deepening. 'If we keep this up here, we'll end up getting broken apart by a policeman!'

I laughed too, slightly embarrassed at the thought. 'You're right,' I said. 'Well, I'd better go. I'll see you...?'

'Tomorrow,' Connor replied firmly, a teasing grin on his face and a familiar glint in his eye. 'We can have a walk through the fields round my house.'

'Sure,' I said, then flicked the tiny red-bearded figure of Angus who still hung from the rearview mirror, setting him swinging. 'I'll see you then.'

I got out of the car, and walked off back to my apartment, pausing only to give a small wave to Connor as he pulled out and drove off. As I made my way down the pavement, an odd, buoyant feeling of warmth glowed within me.
America
...I was finally going to see Connor in his workplace, and in the very city where he was talked about most! He had friends there, too, I realised - maybe I would meet them? I had seen many photos of Connor walking to or from parties with a whole group of friends, most of whom seemed to orbit exclusively around him. He appeared to be quite a popular guy to be with - I had witnessed, in those grey days before our first encounter, how even some of his peers hardly took their eyes off him, each eager to say something to impress him or make him laugh. I had been like that once, I realised; of course, I still was happy to please him, but now the two of us had become so much more comfortable with each other, especially during the past few days when everything had finally come together. I didn't need to jostle others to claim his attention: I already had it. And not only did I have his attention, but I also had his
love
. His full, unadulterated love!

People walking past me were already glancing at me...my pure wonder and happiness must have been truly apparent on my face. This knowledge made me want to swing around a lamp-post and yell with joy. Luckily, though, I retained enough of my sanity to refrain myself from doing so. I instead allowed myself a secret grin as I stopped to wait before crossing the road, full of happiness now that I knew everything was going to be -

'Uh, excuse me? Are you Lillian?' an unfamiliar voice behind me said.

I turned around, and came face to face with a parka-clad man wielding a hefty, professional-looking video camera upon his shoulder. The people passing by me had been staring at me because of
him
, not because of my oblivious, radiant gladness.

I blinked several times in icy shock and disorientation at the sight of that huge lens trained closely on my face. I wondered wildly what to say. My initial impulse was to deny who I was...but for how long had this guy been jogging after me? If he had seen me with Connor - which I strongly suspected was the case - then saying I was somebody else would be a very bad move. The last thing poor Connor needed was a scandal about two-timing...

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. 'Yes,' I replied bravely, 'I am.'

* * *

The cameraman was beside himself. I supposed it was only natural - the first paparazzo I had met had told me, after all, that I was very sought-out, and as far as I knew only one person had actually gotten photos of me. It was an extremely disconcerting thought that I had reached a certain level of notoriety.

This paparazzo here was already a rich man, probably, if he had managed to catch me with Connor in the car. I felt a blush creeping to my cheeks at the thought of there being film footage of our kiss - film footage that would soon be all over the Internet. Frantically, I strove to fight the blush, since it was sure to show up on camera. Oh, God - my hair was undoubtedly a mess from Connor's own bit of head-stroking, and I hadn't made much of an effort makeup-wise today, either...