Star Struck (15 page)

‘Well …'
Gethryn Tudor-Morgan is offering you a drink!
‘Just a bit, maybe.'

‘Good girl.' The bottle swung my way, dark liquid slopping at the neck. ‘Haven't got a glass though,
bach
, we'll have to drink it out of the bottle.'

It was sharp, whatever it was, and rolled down my throat like a razor blade. As I drank, Gethryn came and crouched beside me, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree. I watched as his eyes traced the line of my scar under the make-up down to my cheekbone, didn't stop but wandered across the neckline of my shirt and halted at the depths of the V formed by the open buttons. Then his gaze moved up to my face again and his eyes were molten. ‘So,' he said, taking the bottle back, ‘what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?' I'd only managed to sip at the liquor. He gulped it as though it was water.

‘Oh, you know. Felix got tickets, thought I'd like to come.' I wasn't going to go into Felix's treachery, my stupidity at believing him. Not with this sensational man leaning companionably close in the shelter of the little tree, passing me the bottle again and brushing my fingers with his as he did so. I managed a bit more alcohol this time; the sharpness was gone and the fire that replaced it was welcome. Gethryn's touch had made me shiver.

‘Thought you might have been a friend of Jack's.' He watched me drink. ‘Has he warned you off me yet?' My mouth was full so all I could do was shake my head. ‘Fucking Jack.' His voice was sour now, accent hard. ‘Thinks he's so fucking clever, and what is he? Just a jumped-up storyteller, that's what.' The hand that grabbed the bottle back had white knuckles showing. ‘If they really knew what he was … Well, who is he to dictate what we can and can't do?'

Nearly all of the bottle's contents had disappeared. I pinched my leg hard to keep concentrating. I was
here
sharing a drink with
Gethryn Tudor-Morgan
. It was like my own personal heaven. ‘What's Jack got against you, anyway?' My tongue felt heavy in my mouth and the words were imprecise.

Gethryn looked sideways at me. ‘He doesn't like it that I'm a star, that's what it is,
cariad
. I'm heading up his precious show, while all he can do is scribble away in the dark and smoke his fucking fags. And he hates it that I get the girls, oh yes, he
hates
that. Hates that all he can do is ruin 'em, when
I
know how to love 'em proper, like.' A finger extended, ran down my throat towards the neckline of my shirt and when I looked up into his face I saw the heat in his eyes. ‘Skye,' he whispered. ‘You are beautiful. Is it all right if I kiss you?'

Whoa. Oh … no, I mean …
what? Gethryn
wanted to kiss me? Captain Lucas James, hero of the Shadow War wanted to kiss me … ‘I'm not sure.' The words came out as a whisper, but he'd already moved in for the clinch, both hands wound into my hair holding my head steady.

‘It's fine,
bach
.' His breath smelled of alcohol and felt hot against my lips. ‘Nothing to be afraid of, just a little kiss, yes?' And then, before I could answer, he fastened his mouth onto mine in a bruising, hard kiss that battered against my lips. I stood up, trying to loosen his mouth but he rose with me, keeping his lips locked onto mine and dropping his hands to grip my shoulders. His tongue slipped between my teeth and licked the roof of my mouth and as a current of night air became more intrusive it dawned on me that he'd moved his hands, his fingers were unbuttoning my shirt, one hand hooking itself around the cup of my best bra. I was in a sweat of gratitude that I'd at least thought to put on my decent underwear, but disturbed that he was actually going to see it with so little preamble.

I struggled back and jerked my head away. Felt his tongue slide down my cheek as he aimed at my mouth again and missed. ‘I'm sorry, but I don't know …' My heart was beating faster and I could hear a high drone inside my head. Lust or fear? Couldn't be sure.

‘Oh, come on now.' Gethryn moved in again and his grip tightened. ‘I'm not gonna hurt you, am I? Let's just … see how it goes.' And the hand was on my bra again, fingers fumbling at the cup, until the tiny embroidered flowers that I'd thought so pretty began cutting into my skin. ‘No-one's watching, you don't need to worry.'

I could feel the rise of the panic now.
Was I misreading this? Was he being flirty – a little over-forceful maybe but that could be my fault – or was this going further than I wanted?
He was blocking my airway, his mouth not allowing enough space for breathing and the passage of his hands over my skin was getting dangerously close to needing a passport. But this was
Gethryn Tudor-Morgan! Captain Lucas James …

‘Geth?' Jack's voice sounded like a klaxon above the noise of my pulse. ‘What's going on?'

‘Oh,
fuck
.' Fingers unwound from my underwire and the air came as a relief against my skin. There was suddenly a much larger gap between us and a hastened attempt to pull my shirt straight. ‘What's up?'

‘Skye?' I could see him now, silhouetted against the flickering neon of the motel sign, fingers flicking ash from a glowing stub. ‘Are you all right?' He was moving towards me at the same rate that Gethryn was moving away; it was like standing in the middle of a weather-house. ‘Hey.' The calmness of his tone steadied me and I breathed carefully, feeling the panic balance itself somewhere in the centre of my chest, pivoting on the moment. ‘Skye.'

‘I'm …' A sudden flare of pain as the wind reached the scoring along my cheek that I hadn't realised was there. Gethryn's picturesque stubble had rubbed my skin raw. ‘I …'

‘Get away from her.' Jack's voice was harsh now, sounding as though he needed a drink. ‘Geth. I'm warning you.' A quick, angry movement of one hand. ‘Get inside.'

‘Or what?' Gethryn had stopped moving now. I could see the shadow the moonlight gave him, stretching long and dark towards me from where he stood behind my left shoulder. ‘Eh, Iceman? What's the bottom line here? What can you do that you've not already done?'

Jack stopped walking too. He was near enough for me to smell the smoke on him, to see the individual strands of his hair as they blew, reaching for me across the sand, as though they wanted to wrap around me. ‘Nothing. That's the point, no threats, nothing. Just Leave. Her. Alone.' And the words were like weapons in their own right.

The shadow moved and there was the sloshing sound of liquid moving on glass, a swallow. ‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. Scared that you'll lose another one, are you, Ice? You know you've got nothing. Tell you this, Skye can see sense, she can see who's got something to offer, who's the fucking Hollywood star and who's the punk loser.' The shadow dwindled and his voice was more distant. ‘She'll find out about you, boy. Sooner or later, she'll know. And then … I'll be waiting. But I will tell you this, Ice …' There was a temporary strength in his words as though he'd turned back to face Jack or raised his voice, ‘She's got a fantastic pair of tits.'

I didn't move and neither did Jack, although I saw his fists twitch, just once. A few seconds passed and then Jack held out a hand. ‘Did he hurt you?'

‘No.' I still stood. ‘He … kissed me.'

‘Did you want him to?'

‘I don't know.'
Did I? Had I? How was I supposed to feel?

‘Oh.' The hand lowered. ‘And the …?' Fingers made vague motions at the chest region of his shirt. ‘You might want to do up some buttons, by the way.'

Without taking my eyes from him I fumbled my shirt closed. Shrugged once.

‘
Skye
.'

‘It's all right, I don't want to cause any trouble, we were having a drink that's all, I think I got a bit carried away.' I ran out of breath and stopped speaking on an inward sob of air.

Jack moved closer until he could put a hand on my arm. Stroked my shoulder for a moment, then shook his head slowly, not dropping his hand. I could feel the weight of his fingers, but no warmth; and a slight tremor, as though he was fighting the urge to grab at me. ‘I should have asked the security guys to keep a closer eye. I know what he's like, Skye, I should have …'

‘Like I said. I'm twenty-nine. I can look out for myself, Jack, don't beat yourself up about it.' My voice sounded surprisingly strong. ‘Nothing terrible happened, nothing was
going
to happen, Geth and I are capable of understanding the word “no”.' Moonlight hit us both. Made Jack look haunted. As I already felt pale and stretched, it probably made me look like a movie version of some kind of ghoul.

There was suddenly too much sky.

‘Come inside.' It wasn't the sharp order that Gethryn had got, it was a gentle suggestion, accompanied by half an arm across my shoulder. ‘Come on. I'll take you back to your room.' The calm words and his even tone stopped the panic before it could rise, and the pull of his arm tugged me against his body as he started to move. It was protection against the wideness of the world and I found that I could keep everything scary at bay as long as I concentrated on the simple business of walking and the slightly swaying body of the man walking next to me.

We walked back to the main doors and immediately into Felix who was drinking Southern Comfort at the bar.

‘Well, look what the cat dragged in.' Felix squinted at me. ‘You're a bit pink. So, how've you been?' He wagged eyebrows unsubtly. ‘Sorry I dipped out on you earlier but … well.'

‘Yes, I saw. I've been okay.' My body shivered. ‘Well. Yes. Okay.'

Jack had dropped his arm from my shoulders and shoved both hands in his pockets. ‘Have you eaten, Skye?'

‘Eaten?' I stared at him.

‘Yes, eaten. Food in, mouth move, num num. Eaten.'

I couldn't see his eyes; he'd dropped his head so that his hair hung over his face, but his voice was tight. ‘No.'

‘Come on then.' Jack put a hand on my forearm and closed his fingers around it. ‘I'll get you some food.'

‘But I –'

Felix gave me a stern look and then rolled his eyes. ‘Go on, lover. You're too skinny already. You need to eat.'

‘There's no such thing as too skinny.' I tried an uppish defence, even though I knew he was right. For my shape, I
was
too thin. I looked like a skeleton someone had thrown clothes at. ‘Oh, all right.'

‘So gracious.' Jack headed away, not, as I'd thought, towards the diner but towards the stairs.

‘Sorry.' I followed him. ‘I'm feeling a bit … odd.'

‘Bit pissed you mean. What were you and Geth drinking out there?' He'd stopped on a stair, back to me but rigid. Waiting.

‘Did I say we were drinking?'

‘You didn't need to. But you didn't admit to it – interesting. Did he tell you not to talk to me?'

We walked along the corridor to his room and I stopped to think while he unlocked the door. ‘No.'

Jack ushered me past him, but stopped me before I could get inside by putting both hands on my shoulders and pulling me around to face him. ‘Skye, look –'

‘Oh, don't start again with all the “stay away from Gethryn” bullshit, please. I'm sorry if you two have problems and I'm sorry you've both got all this machismo shit going on, but I'm not your little sister, and I bloody well don't have a virginity to lose, so just stop all these dire warnings and leave me alone. What happened out there tonight was – well, it was under control.'

He held both hands up in the air. ‘Under control. Okay. You're right, you're a big girl, you can decide for yourself who you see.'

‘All right,' I said, dubiously.

‘But whatever you think of me, I don't make a practice of riding in every time I see a couple in a clinch, you know. I'm not some big killjoy who can't bear anyone to be happy. I saw your
face
, Skye, and happy was not on the agenda there.'

‘So you were watching because it was
me
?'

Jack shook his head and moved inside the room. ‘You … you've just hurled in from home and I guess the accent and all, it's making me feel a bit homesick. A bit …' He tailed off, his eyes lost focus and he stared out of the window, hands working their way deep into the pockets of his black jeans. ‘Yeah. So. Food. These places are always rubbish at producing anything that's actually good for you, so I brought some things along.'

‘Okay.' What was he playing at? He seemed nervous, he'd lost that whole lone-hunter edge he'd had when we'd come in from the desert. Maybe he just needed a smoke.

‘Fine.' He turned to the tiny fridge in the corner under the laptop and pulled out some fruit and a bar of chocolate, then plopped a pile of apples and oranges on the bed beside me and suddenly his words were coming in a breathless rush. ‘The fancy dress ball, Sunday night. Would you come with me?'