To Catch a Star (20 page)

“You seriously need to stop messing around with other men’s wives.”

Dom chuckled. “You are so not one to talk. The first time you fall in love, and she’s as good as married.”

“I’m not in love.” Christian bit his lip. Or was he? He’d never been so relentless in his pursuit of a woman before. Never wanted a woman so badly before. Never been shopping with a woman before – even his stylist.

Was this love?

“She doesn’t love Stefan,” he said. The joyful giddiness was back, making his head swim.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she loves you either,” Dom said.

He crashed back down to earth. What if she didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about her? It wasn’t a possibility he’d encountered before. He was used to women falling at his feet. But what if this one, the only one who mattered, didn’t want him back?

He pressed his eyes shut, surprised to find an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the fall and everything to do with Tessa.

It was probably for the best that she didn’t fall for him. He only brought pain to the people who loved him. But she did want him. He was sure of it. He’d seen it in her eyes.

And he wasn’t going to let go until she admitted it, until she acknowledged the passion inside her. Preferably after he got her naked and in his bed.

Or her bed. He wasn’t fussy.

“Do or die,” Christian repeated softly, staring up at the sky. Pinpricks of stars glittered high above. In his headlong rush towards stardom he’d lost touch with that old feeling. That sensation of standing on the edge, putting everything on the line, and just going for it. When had he last stood on the edge and taken a risk? While Dominic still lived their old motto every single day, he’d fallen into a comfort zone.

To hell with his comfort zone. He was getting too old to flit from one woman to the next. He wanted what Stefan had with Teresa. Hell, he wanted what Stefan had. Period.

“That was fun.” Dominic moved his arms and legs, making snow angels.

“Yeah, but let’s not do it again.” Christian pushed himself to his feet. “Come on, get up, old man.” He held out a hand to Dominic.

“I don’t think I can,” Dom said. But he reached out and grasped Christian’s hand. Christian hauled him up.

“I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Christian laughed. “You and me both. Let’s get inside. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a whiskey.”

“Drinks are on me if the receptionist squeals when she sees us.”

“Drinks are on me if she agrees to meet you when her shift ends.”

Dominic grinned as he brushed the snow out of his hair. “Deal.”

They headed towards the terrace that led into the Michelin-starred restaurant. The diners shrieked as they emerged through the doors into the classy dining room. Christian grinned and held his head high as he crossed through the restaurant and headed towards the lobby, Dominic a step behind.

When they walked into the lobby, the receptionist squealed. Christian’s grin deepened. “You can make mine a double,” he said to Dom, gesturing towards the bar.

His entire body ached, but he hadn’t felt this happy in ages.

Do or die. He’d forgotten that mantra along the way. He wasn’t going to forget it again.

He didn’t see her at breakfast, nor did she answer when he knocked on her door in the early afternoon. Surely there couldn’t be any shops left in the city they hadn’t already visited yesterday. So where the hell was she?

With Stefan? Had her fiancé changed his mind and opted to stay in Paris to be with her? Had she rediscovered feelings for the man she planned to marry? Christian’s stomach clenched into knots at the thought.

As it grew dark, he received a text from her with the time the limo would be there to collect him. Him, not them.

He stared hard at the phone, but there was nothing more.

Would she stand him up? Had he pushed her too far last night?

But when he arrived in the hotel lobby, dressed in the evening suit she’d helped him buy, Tessa waited for him. She stood before a vast oil painting hung on the wall, her back to him.

His breath caught. For a long moment he stood and simply looked. She wore an evening gown of midnight blue, which clung to her tall, slender figure. The long sleeves were made of lace and her back was bare. Over her arm she carried a short matching coat.

Then she turned and saw him. And she smiled.

No way was he going to be left out in the cold tonight.

His heart resumed its beat, perhaps a little faster than normal. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

And yes, he was in love with her. Who wouldn’t be?

She walked slowly towards him, a sensual sway in her step as she crossed the checkered marble floor of the lobby and stopped barely a foot away.

“You really should dress like this more often. You look… dashing.”

“And you look stunning.” Though she made the word seem meaningless. She was so much more. She was poised, sophisticated, and heart-wrenchingly sexy.

It took all his effort not to grab hold of her and kiss her right there, in the middle of the hotel lobby where everyone could see. But then he’d muss her lipstick or her perfectly styled hair – hair so artfully tumbled he had no doubt it had taken hours to achieve. So that’s where she’d been all day.

She stepped close and reached up to re-tie his bowtie. “So which role will you be playing at the premiere?”

“Who do you want me to be?” He dropped his voice low, though it didn’t take much to come out sounding suggestive. “Friend? Boss? Or lover?”

Her level gaze met his. “If the choice were mine, I’d want you to be
you
. The way you are right now, not the person you pretend to be when other people are watching.”

Something wrenched inside him, the old pain and fear. “That person wasn’t very popular, and in case you hadn’t noticed I’m in the popularity business.”

“You’re wrong. You’re not that little boy who was picked on and who kicked out in anger anymore. The world will love the real Christian Taylor even more than the fake one. But you’ll never know unless you take the risk.”

He frowned and shook his head, looking away, but Tessa wasn’t prepared to let it go. “You ask me why I stay in my comfort zone, but you’re not willing to leave yours. Want to think about that?” She stepped back, out of his reach.

“There’s a crowd of fans at the hotel entrance, so we have the limousine waiting for you in the basement.”

He offered her his arm and she took it, the light touch of her hand shooting an electric rush through him. Back in the elevator, he helped her into her coat, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck as he lifted the short collar. The glance she cast back at him set him on fire, leaving him in no doubt that tonight he could make her his.

If he accepted her challenge. But could he? Could he stand up before the whole world and just be himself? And if he did, would Tessa respond – would she stop hiding behind her façade of
shoulds
and
shouldn’ts
and this loveless marriage that was so clearly wrong for her?

In the basement car park, the chauffeur held the limousine door open for them. Tessa stooped to get in first and Christian followed, checking at the door. He bit back an oath.

“Bollinger?” Dominic offered, holding out a glass of golden champagne to Christian.

“I offered Dominic a lift to the theatre,” she said silkily.

Great, a chaperone. Christian scowled at his friend.

“Are you getting in or not?” Dominic asked. “You’re letting in the cold air.”

Tessa slid onto the seat beside him and Christian climbed in. The chauffeur shut the door, closing them in.

The city lights skittered off the slick surface of the road as the limousine edged through the evening traffic down the Champs-Élysées. Paris was as grand and as beautiful as he remembered, yet Christian missed the charm and intimacy of Westerwald. He missed being alone in the back of a car with Tessa.

She sat squashed between them on the rear bench seat. When Dominic reached for the champagne bucket, she shifted to give him room, and her thigh pressed up against Christian’s.

He laid a hand on her knee. She gently nudged it off, and accepted the refill of her glass that Dominic offered.

Outside the theatre they joined the cavalcade of luxury vehicles queueing to reach the red carpet. Christian drew in a deep breath, psyching himself up for the moment when the car door opened and all hell would break loose. Dominic did the same.

It was like the moment before the director called “action”, when he flicked the switch and became Christian Taylor Movie Star. Fake persona in place, ready to woo the crowds.

“Whatever you do, don’t look down,” he advised. It was the advice he gave all his dates, the usual parade of up-and-coming starlets eager to bask in his reflected glory.

Her eyes narrowed as she gave him a withering look.

Their car pulled up at the end of the red carpet and an attendant stepped forward to open the door. The sound hit them, as hard as the ground he and Dominic had hit last night. Screaming voices, the incessant flare of camera flashes.

Tessa took the attendant’s hand and stepped out of the car, smiling for the cameras. Christian followed her out, pausing a moment for his eyes to adjust to the blinding flashes of a million cameras. Beyond the barricades, his fans screamed and shoved, and waved home-made “We love you, Christian” banners.

Even if they were used to it, most people flinched at a reception like this one. Teresa didn’t bat an eye. Head high, shoulders back, she stepped onto the red carpet as if she owned it. She clearly had no need of his advice. She looked as unflappably cool and calm as ever. He should have known. Dating a prince must have inured her to this kind of attention.

“Does anything intimidate you?” he whispered in her ear.

She didn’t smile. “Only you.”

Slowly they made their way down the endless stretch of red carpet, Christian stopping to chat to his fans, sign autographs and pose for pictures while the harried attendant tried to move him on, into the theatre where the “important” people were. But he wouldn’t be hurried. These fans had camped out here in the cold to see him, and he’d make it worth their while.

As always Dominic took point, his body tensed and ready to act as his shield should any of the fans break through the barrier of security men. Christian grinned at his friend. It was good to know someone had his back.

They reached the press pit where he posed for the photographers. Tessa stayed a step behind, allowing him the spotlight, but it was no good. This was still Europe, after all, and all the society photographers knew who she was. They shouted her name and jostled one another to attract her attention.

“Ms Adler – what dress is that you’re wearing? Can you show us?”

“It’s an Elie Saab, from his Fall collection.” She slipped off the coat and handed it to Dominic so she could pose for the photographer who’d asked the question, revealing the plunging neckline and even barer back. More camera bulbs popped, the video cameras with their built-in lights all turned towards her.

As she turned slowly for the cameras, all Christian could see was the long white line of her neck, the dip at the base of her spine. His body pulled tight.

Dominic leaned close to Christian. “I think you’ve been upstaged, pal.”

“Are you Mr Taylor’s date?” one reporter asked Teresa.

She shook her head. “No, I’m Mr Taylor’s assistant.”

With a poise the most experienced Hollywood actress would admire, she extricated herself from the reporters and continued down the red carpet. Unlike the women he was used to, she neither courted the attention, nor resented it. She merely accepted it. She would be wasted as a diplomat’s wife. She was born for the spotlight.

She and Dominic disappeared through the theatre doors while he still had to endure the official interview, which was thrown up onto big screens above. He couldn’t remember afterward what questions were asked or what answers he gave. He’d already spoken so much about this movie – a movie he’d finished shooting so many months ago he barely remembered it – that his responses had become rote.

Inside the theatre doors he was met by another army of attendants. He knew the score. Before the show inside the auditorium could start, he had to endure the one out here. The ticketholders also wanted their pound of flesh. There were more autographs to sign, cameras to pose for, hands to shake, film producers and executives and accountants and distributors to meet and make small-talk to. He posed for photographs with his co-stars and the director, all freshly arrived that morning from LA and complaining bitterly about the cold.

He looked around for Tessa. She and Dominic stood by the bar, enjoying another glass of champagne. She laughed at something he said, and Christian glowered at them. Dom caught his eye and winked.

“You must be the first member of an entourage to attend one of these do’s kitted out in Elie Saab,” Dominic commented as he handed Tessa a fresh glass of champagne. “You belong over there in the spotlight, not in the cheap seats with the plebs like me.”

She should have refused the champagne. She’d already had more than she should, and she’d been too keyed-up all day to eat. But she accepted the glass. Her nerves needed settling.

“You’re not a pleb,” she said. “A pain in the ass maybe, but never a pleb. And as for me – I haven’t done anything special to deserve recognition. I belong where I am.”

Dominic raised his glass to her. “I like you.”

“I’d take that as a compliment, but I think you say that to all the women.”

He laughed.

When a bell rang, Dominic took her elbow and guided her to their seats in the auditorium. The stars always received extra tickets for their entourages, she discovered, and so they sat surrounded by assistants and stylists, film reviewers and those who’d paid premium price for tickets.

“Isn’t it odd to do the premiere now?” Tessa asked as she looked across the crowded theatre. “I thought the movie released before Christmas.”

Dominic shrugged. “In the States, but here they chose to release it for Valentine’s. Something about it being the perfect date-night movie for the City of Love.”

The woman behind her leaned forward. “The men get to watch the action and we get to drool!”

The crowd around them chatted and joked and sipped champagne until the VIP circus entered the arena, and Tessa laughed and chatted with them, as at home here as she’d felt on the movie set.

I belong where I am.
That was truer than she’d realised.

For months she’d felt trapped in the bubble she’d tried to describe to Stefan. But she wasn’t trapped, and she didn’t have to stay locked inside her ivory tower like a tragic Rapunzel. She was just as happy here as among the children at the orphanage, or on the film set, or at her country club. Maybe she could be happy wherever she went.

Maybe she didn’t even need to stay in Westerwald to be happy.

Or maybe she’d had too much champagne.

There was a stir through the crowd as the movie’s stars took their seats. She tried hard not to look for Christian but the impulse was impossible to resist.

Among the last to enter the auditorium, his arrival was accompanied by a round of cheering and applause. The tailored evening suit fitted him impeccably. It moulded to his broad shoulders, hinted at the superb physique beneath the superfine cloth.

She couldn’t even remember what Stefan had worn last night.

She was in such trouble.

The lights went out, the music soared. She’d thought it would be difficult to focus on the film, to not be bored, but it was remarkably easy. From the moment the opening credits rolled, she was hooked.

The movie may have had more visual effects than plot, but it was mesmerising. Because Christian was in it. And he was
good
in it. He was the best thing about the movie.

His penetrating blue gaze blown up four feet high on the screen, his bare-chested torso glistening. His husky voice, which made every word seem like an invitation to sex.

No wonder women camped out in the snow at the palace gates for a glimpse of him, or chased him down in the street.

And he wanted
her
?

She fidgeted in the seat, unable to ease the itch in her body, the tension in her skin. She couldn’t carry on like this. For someone who’d spent her life believing lust was for other people, for weak people, it came as something of a shock to be caught in its grip.

She had lost all control of her body. She couldn’t fight this physical longing for him. For his kiss, for her hands on her bare skin.

She pressed her eyes closed, but that only made it worse.

“You okay?” Dominic whispered.

She nodded, biting her lip. But she wasn’t okay.

She needed this torture to end. She needed these feelings gone so she could think straight. So she could walk down the aisle at her wedding with conviction.

But was it worth the guilty conscience to make that happen?

Would “getting him out of her system”, as Lee suggested, even work?

It had to. Because she was at her wit’s end.

Two hours of exquisite torment and then she still had to endure the speeches. Her thoughts drifted into fantasy, so real she could almost feel his hands stroking over her bare skin.