Undone by the Star (8 page)

Alex’s heart plunged. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Not after the way she and Marc had parted the night before.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the hotel, Cyril.” she said, vaguely pleased that there was not a tremor to be heard in her voice. “It’s my understanding that Mr. Daniels has been looking for flats in the area.”

She got to her feet, as did Cyril.

“Did he say when he was checking out?” she asked.

Cyril shook his head. “But he did ask for a car at two o’clock.”

Alex checked her watch. It was nearly noon. There was no way a VIP like Marc Daniels was leaving the hotel without an official farewell no matter how painful. “Have the bill sent to me, and I’ll take it from there.”

“Actually,” said Cyril removing an envelope from inside his jacket. “I took the liberty of bringing it with me.”

He passed it over, gave her a nod that was dangerously close to a bow, and then he was gone.

Alex groped for the chair behind her.

Her worlds were about to collide…again.

Marc was on his way to the bedroom when he thought he heard a knock. Ten to one it was Cyril either delivering his bill or wanting to offer assistance. Marc sighed. He was tempted to ignore the summons; Cyril could easily slide the paperwork under his door, but the assistant manager had gone out of his way to be helpful. Marc padded back across the room.

It wasn’t Cyril.

Her suit was midnight blue. It might have been made for the boardroom, but it fit her curves like a glove. Marc felt his mouth go dry.

“Miss Kirkwood.”

“Mr. Daniels.” Her eyes dropped to the towel at his waist. “Trying out for a new part?”

Marc heard the elevator ping in the distance. “You’d better come in.” He stepped back to let her pass, feeling the soft swish of her hair as she brushed by. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

She walked to the middle of the room and turned to face him.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Her gaze swept up his bare chest, and a twinkle lurked briefly in her eyes. “We don’t encourage that kind of behaviour at The Sadler.”

“You certainly made that clear last night.”

The half-smile faded and Alex had the good grace to look away. Soft colour blushed her neck and cheeks.

“Wait here,” said Marc. “While I put some clothes on….” Damn the woman. As soon as he reached the bedroom, he whipped off the towel, grabbed a pair of jeans from his case and then tugged a t-shirt over his head. He tried to remind himself just how angry he was with Miss Alexis Kirkwood, but the trouble was, he found her fascinating.

Her humour, her sarcasm, her stubborn streak, and her strength. And the feel of her whenever he held her close.

Marc paused in the doorway.

There was an envelope in her hand he hadn’t noticed earlier.

The last of his bad temper drained away. When Jeremy had relayed the news that Alex had been pushed into the CEO position by her grandmother’s fall, Marc had thought only about how it would affect his attraction to Alex. Now, seeing her in her new role, Marc wondered if it felt as terrifying for her as his first day on set as a leading man had been for him. Everything on his shoulders; everybody watching to see if he’d slip up. Alex must be incredibly busy, and yet she had taken the time to come and see him.

Her eyes sought out his as he entered the sitting room, and softened. “I’m sorry to hear you’re leaving The Sadler.”

“Me, too. I’ve found the flat I was looking for…it’s in Kensington.”

Marc saw her hurt, but he kept his distance. Three strides and he could wrap her in his arms, but that wouldn’t really change anything. “How’s Miss Sadler?” he asked finally.

He was rewarded with a smile. “She’s doing well,” Alexis answered. “But Dr. Patel wants to keep her in for a little while longer, just to be sure.”

“And you?” Marc asked gently. He saw the circles under her eyes. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Her chest rose as she drew a deep breath. “One irate chef, a few unexpected phone calls, and a visit from Cyril.” She held up the envelope. “I would have come anyway, but this gave me an excuse.”

“You didn’t need one.” He could cross the room, he could sweep her into his arms….

“Probably not.” She laid the envelope on a nearby table, her fingertip pushing it into exact alignment with the edge. “I hope you’ll still use the small boardroom for your meetings.” She lifted her eyes to his face again. Did he see a hint of anxiety? Did it mean that she wanted to see him again?

“If it’s not a problem…?”

“Not at all. I’ve asked Cyril to ensure you have everything you need.”

Marc nodded, disappointed. The two of them might as well have been on stage, their physical restraint and polite conversation spoke volumes about their unsettled emotions, about the pressures pulling them apart. But he was overwhelmingly relieved that she was here, and that his connection to The Sadler remained. “I’ll look in on your grandmother when I’m here next week.”

“She’d like that.” Alex checked her watch. “I’m afraid I have to go. I have a meeting with the senior staff.”

Her voice wavered as she spoke.

It did him in.

He did what he swore he wouldn’t do. He crossed the room and drew her into the shelter of his embrace. For an instant she stood stiffly, then sighed and relaxed into him. He pressed his lips against the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her. “If you ever need me,” he whispered roughly.

At that she pulled back and he could see her shoulders square and knew her professional persona was sliding back into place. She stepped back another pace but when their eyes met, hers were glistening. She shook her head and held out her hand as if to stop him, then turned and left the suite.

It was after five by the time Alex reached her grandmother’s side. There were even more flowers in the room, and Grannie was definitely looking better. Her hair had been arranged, a light touch of makeup brightened her face, and the hospital gown had been replaced by a silk bed jacket.

“I see Helen’s sartorial genius at work,” Alex murmured kissing her cheek. “You look lovely. How has your day been?”

“Aside from Helen’s visit, quite tedious. I want to go home, but the doctor insists I remain at least a couple more days.” Miss Sadler’s sharp eyes fixed on her granddaughter’s face. “Far more important, dear, how was your day?”

“It wasn’t boring.” Alex laughed. She hated that the sound was a bit shaky. “I met with senior staff, graciously declined meetings with two of our competitors, welcomed a member of the Dutch royal family…all the usual!” She roved about the room, hiding her restlessness by fingering the latest floral arrangements, including one with a towering balloon. “Jamie?”

Her grandmother chuckled. “Your brother is a rascal, but he did promise to come over for a visit before the snow flies…. The pale pink roses are from Marc.”

“They’re lovely,” said Alex. She bent over to breathe in their heady scent, lightly brushing the petals of the tallest stem with her thumb. They felt silky soft. Alex swallowed. Marc had been so helpful yesterday. Coming to her side without a second thought. Staying with her until Grannie was settled. And then, spending the evening together, recapturing the easy intimacy they’d had the previous Saturday as they strolled along the darkened streets.

Alex tried to hold back the tears.

“I called the hotel a little while ago to thank him,” she heard her grandmother say quietly. “But I was told he’d checked out.”

“Oh, Grannie,” sobbed Alex. She left the roses to go to her grandmother’s side, gently leaning over to slide into her outstretched arms. “I’ve made such a muddle of everything.”

“That’s not possible,” cooed her grandmother. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you…now blow your nose and sit down beside me.”

Alex reached for a tissue.

“There now,” said her grandmother patting Alex’s knee. “Start at the beginning and explain to me why you’re so upset. And then you can tell me all the gossip.”

Alex couldn’t help but smile. “Should I start with Cyril or Marc?

“Your choice,” her grandmother snorted. “Just don’t leave out the juicy parts.” And before long, Alex found she had summed the situation up pretty well, including the incident in the mews that had left her so unsettled. “I like Marc, Grannie, I really do…it’s just that the timing is all wrong.”

“Oh, Alex….” Her grandmother leaned back against the pillows. “If falling in love were dependent on good timing and convenience, no one would ever manage it. Including your grandfather and me.”

“Marc’s taken a flat in Kensington. On the bright side he’s still wants to use the small boardroom as his production office.”

“Excellent. Do you know, I think his godfather stayed at The Sadler whenever he came up to London. Unfortunately, I don’t think I ever met him. Your grandfather’s career took us to Europe for most of those years.” A faraway look softened the lines of her grandmother’s face as she visited a past Alex could not see. Like the hotel itself, her grandmother was a repository of vivid memories, people, places and love.

Alex sighed. “At least, he knows where to find me,” she said as much to herself as to her grandmother, “if he’s interested in getting to know me better….”

“You say he has the small board room booked?”

“For the next six weeks.”

“Well done,” her grandmother approved. “And don’t forget, he’s a bachelor. He needs to eat. Perhaps you could invite him to dine with you in the Garden Room.”

“I thought discretion was our mantra.”

“It is, dear.” Miss Sadler’s eyes twinkled. “But it never hurts to have a handsome film star like Marc visit The Sadler. Especially when there’s royalty in residence. They love rubbing shoulders with celebrity.”

“Grannie! You’re incorrigible!”

“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Marc made note of the dialogue change on his copy of the script and slipped it into his folder. It had been a long, but productive meeting. “One more pass at the third act should do it,” he told his scriptwriter, “then we send it out.”

“Brace yourself,” Tim said as he stuffed his own pages and laptop into his briefcase. He got to his feet and rolled his shoulders. “Actors can be notoriously fickle.”

“Don’t I know it,” Marc said.

“No offence,” Tim offered with a grin. He picked up his briefcase. “How’s Friday work for you?”

“Perfect,” said Marc. “See you here.” As soon as Tim was out the door, Marc topped up his tea. He knew he and his partners were being spoiled, but who was he to argue? The board room at The Sadler was more comfortable than many of the other “offices” or trailers, for that matter, that he had ever worked in – quiet and professional. Someone, and he had a sneaky feeling he knew who it was, had anticipated his every need from equipment to pastries. A non-stop reminder that Alexis Kirkwood was just down the hall, breathing the same air, maybe even nibbling the same croissants.

Enough.

He had a lot riding on this project, and the day wasn’t over yet.

Reaching for his mobile phone, Marc thumbed through his contacts. As director and producer he was learning firsthand just how complicated the back end of the business could be. He started with his wardrobe designer. After confirming that she was in touch with his expert in period costume at Oxford, he called his location scout, and then his casting agent.

Laying his phone back down, Marc scrubbed his face. Between worrying about the production and his endless yearning for Alex, he hadn’t been sleeping well.

He had been working at The Sadler for three days now, and other than an echo of Alex’s voice and a glimpse of her disappearing down a corridor, he had yet to lay eyes on her. Work distracted him, but the long evenings as he rattled around his empty flat were punctuated by endless images of her, the scent of her, the feel of her body melding into his own. He had hoped she would seek him out, but she hadn’t. From Jeremy, he knew that she was incredibly busy.

But he wasn’t about to wait any longer.

Instinct told him he had to make the next move. To show Alex that he was willing to compromise, to support her in any way he could. Perhaps then she would respond to him as she had the other evening before the weight of responsibility had scared her away.

Leaving the boardroom, Marc headed toward the hotel’s executive offices. The door to Alex’s office was ajar. Marc paused on the threshold, determined, but not wanting to intrude.

Alex was not alone. An older woman stood by Alex’s desk, holding a file and shaking her head. “I haven’t been able to contact him. He’s not answering calls.”

“We’ve been calling him ‘Hector the obstinate’ since I was a kid,” Alex muttered. “Always difficult, always causing grief…. ”

“He still is,” Clare replied. “I’ve left several messages.”

Interesting, thought Marc. If someone was upsetting Alex, he wanted to know who it was. He rapped his knuckles against the door.

The two women turned to look in his direction.

“I apologize if I’m interrupting,” said Marc as he stepped into the room, “but I heard Miss Sadler was home, and I wanted to ask how she was. I can come back later.” He cocked his head. “Should that be more convenient.”

He was rewarded with a wide smile from Alex. “No, please stay. We were just finishing.” She turned to the secretary. “Let’s send a registered letter, and we’ll follow up in a couple of days.” Clare nodded, gave Marc a tentative smile, and then slipped out of the office.

Alex rose from the desk and came over to Marc, eyes searching his face. She looked pale to him, and the circles under her eyes had deepened. He had the distinct impression that she could really use a friend right now. Once again his desire to fold her into his arms nearly overpowered him…but if it was a friend she needed, it was a friend she would get.

“How’s Miss Sadler?” he asked. He wouldn’t step closer, wouldn’t reach out to caress the soft curve of her cheek.

But he swore she knew exactly what he was thinking by the rise and fall of her chest. Her breath hitched, and then suddenly she was glowing with happiness. Whether it was because of him or her grandmother’s return to health, Marc wasn’t sure. He just knew he was happy to be with Alex and to see the light return to her eyes. “I was on my way up to her suite right now,” she said, “if you’d like to come along?”