KNOWLEDGE of how leaving a moving vehicle at sixty miles per hour could damage the human body was the only thing that kept me in the car Nathan sent for me. I lost count of the number of times I was so choked by fear and uncertainty, I almost asked the driver to stop and take me back to my parents’ house. I wiped my palms along the fronts of my thighs.
The dress I’d rushed to purchase after Nathan’s car collected me was simple and elegant—black, floor-length, with a low back and lace sleeves. I felt pretty confident it could be classified as ‘killer’, but the nerves that plagued me left me insecure. What Nathan would think of it? Was I suitably attired to accompany Mr Mega Movie Star?
‘We’re here, miss,’ the driver said through the intercom. The car, a sleek Bentley with buttery yellow leather upholstery, pulled through double electronic gates, and my heart fought its way into my throat as I glanced up at Nathan’s home in St John’s Wood.
The house was staggering—Georgian, double-fronted and wisteria-clad in warm red brick with creamy white columns. We pulled into the gloom of an underground garage and my door swung open before I had chance to compose my trembling fingers and galloping heart rate.
There he was. Wearing a charcoal grey three-piece suit and a white shirt, he stole my breath. I hadn’t seen him for thirty-six hours and, impossibly, he was more handsome than I remembered. His hair was dishevelled in that effortless way he wore it and his beard a little longer, lending his chiselled male beauty a dangerously sexy edge.
I stepped from the car, clinging to the hand he offered. His green gaze raked me from head to toe as he twirled a finger, indicating I pirouette for him.
Heat crept up my neck and I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t a real date and I wasn’t seeking his approval, but I basked in it anyway.
Admiration shone from him. ‘Sophia, you look beautiful.’ When he raised my hand to his mouth, the blood rushed from my head and I had to lock my knees to prevent them giving way. His lips lingered on the back of my hand for long seconds, leaving a trail of heat that travelled up my arm.
‘Thank you.’ I covered my reaction to his unsettling chivalry with a quip. ‘Did I do okay with the frock?’
His mouth twitched. ‘You’re perfect. Shall we?’ He gestured I re-take my seat and closed my door before rounding the car to join me.
On the ride to Leicester Square, Nathan ran through the format, which helped to settle my nerves. But as we stepped from the car to a wall of sound the likes of which I’d only ever experienced at rock concerts, nothing could have prepared me for this glimpse into his world.
Nathan raised his arm to wave at the fans screaming for him and gifted them his dazzling smile like the movie star he was, while I hung back. My stomach lurched. The urge to dive back into the car so strong, if Jake hadn’t arrived to encourage me forward I’d have fled.
Nathan was consummate—well versed in the protocol of red carpet appearances, he slipped his hand into the small of my back and murmured words of encouragement as he guided me forward to pose for a photo.
One of the TV crew hosts yelled, ‘Nathan, who’s your date?’, but he moved us on without comment.
I’d come here to create a ‘who’s that girl’ stir, but every jumpy nerve in my body protested at the crazy number of flashes and screams for sound bites. Gripped by a sense of almost hysterical terror, I grasped my tiny clutch purse with punishing force. Was I doing the right thing? It felt unnatural to welcome media attention after I’d spent so many years avoiding it.
It was too late now. I’d set a gamble in progress and all I could do was wait to see if it paid off. After a few terrifying minutes of exposure, Jake ushered me inside, leaving Nathan to give interviews and sign autographs.
The vast foyer of the movie theatre teemed with smartly attired people. Breathing a shaky breath, I accepted the glass of champagne Jake offered me and turned to watch the action outside play out on a large wall-mounted screen. The view cut to Nathan and I held my breath. Leaning towards an outstretched microphone, he flashed his dimple at the interviewer as he answered her question. She laughed at what he’d said, her eyes sparkling. No doubt he’d charmed her in that understated way of his.
As he moved along the crowds, an over-zealous female fan leaned over the barrier and kissed his cheek. Nathan acted like it hadn’t happened, moving on to shake some hands stretched out to him from the back of the crowd.
The surge of irrational jealousy that prickled my skin both shocked and irritated me. This wasn’t a date and I had no claim on Nathan. Even if we were a real couple, I’d have to just suck it up—he was public property, a fact that had made me wary of him in the first place.
Jake and I took our seats in the upper auditorium, which was reserved for VIPs. The film’s theme tune began and an elegant man in his fifties, whom Jake informed me was the film’s director, made his way up onto the stage, accompanied by a rapturous round of applause. He introduced his film, and then the cast, as one-by-one they joined him on stage.
Nathan stood next to Claudia, who wore a beautiful silver gown so close-fitting it appeared sprayed on. For a few minutes, the cast and director answered questions about the movie and then moved off-stage to another round of applause.
Jake handed me a second glass of champagne from a passing waiter, swapping it for my empty glass. As the lights dimmed and the movie began, we were joined by Nathan, Claudia and the remaining cast. Nathan settled in the seat next to mine.
‘Having fun yet?’ His warm breath tickled the skin of my neck.
I nodded, incapable of speech, and filled my mouth with champagne so he wouldn’t expect any comment from me. The buzz of alcohol worked its magic, taking the edge off my nerves and helping me to forget why I was here. If I didn’t slow down, I was at risk of enjoying myself so much, this would feel like a real date.
His mouth twitched with a knowing smile as he held his own glass to mine. ‘Cheers. To … us?’ I rolled my eyes and his smile widened. We were saved from further interaction by the start of his movie, Daddy Date.
I enjoyed the film, believing Nathan’s portrayal of a single dad trying to find something real in the shark-infested dating pool, until the action moved to a full-blown sex scene between Nathan’s and Claudia’s characters. Eyes glued to the screen, I was determined to remain indifferent to what appeared to be an intimate and very realistic moment.
Nathan shifted slightly in his seat next to me, and I winced at Claudia’s tinkling laugh from behind as she chatted with the film’s director. I admired her confidence. She was comfortable with her nudity and had a body many women would kill for. Silently cursing the surround sound, I cringed as Claudia screamed out her delight while Nathan fucked her over an office desk.
Heat circulated my body—a mixture of embarrassment, jealousy and arousal. Part of me wondered how it would feel to be on the receiving end of his passion. How much was Claudia really acting?
No longer able to watch Nathan’s ‘sex face’, I stared at the glass of champagne trembling in my lap and prayed it would soon be over. A round of applause heralded the end of the fun and I exhaled my relief.
I flinched when Nathan’s breath once more warmed my cheek. ‘Would you like to accompany me to the bar?’ I nodded, desperate for a glass of water to calm the hornet’s nest of confusion swirling in my head.
Nathan took my elbow and stood, ushering me to the exit and across a smaller foyer to the main one downstairs. I followed him to the bar on shaky legs, jealousy coiling in the pit of my stomach. Had Claudia experienced the real thing? He’d said they weren’t a couple but the on-screen chemistry between them was undeniable.
His deep voice interrupted my toxic thoughts. ‘What would you like to drink, Sophia?’
‘Iced water, please.’ I was lightheaded from the champagne—I’d practically downed the second glass while watching that sex scene, and I needed to get my emotions under control. The last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself, especially if he’d lied about Claudia and they really had been an item.
Nathan ordered two glasses of iced water and we sat at the bar on high stools. With a few sips of water cooling my throat, I managed some normal conversation. ‘Don’t you want to see the end of the film?’
Coolly, he assessed me, his half shrug nonchalant. ‘I’ve seen it before. Hollywood premiere,’ he explained, his gaze flitting over my heated face. ‘Are you having a good time?’ His lips twitched. Was he was teasing me?
I’d rather he thought me prudish than jealous. I went with sarcasm, my go-to put-down of choice. ‘Yes, I loved watching you and Claudia have sex on a massive screen with blaring sound effects.’ I was giving too much away—time to shut up. I gulped another mouthful of water.
His body heat added to mine as he leaned close, his arm resting on the back of my stool and his lips close to my ear like he was confiding a secret. ‘We weren’t having sex.’ His words, spoken on a husky whisper, implied a world of difference between the staged version and the real thing. My toes curled as the heat of his breath warmed my cheek, sending delicious ripples down my neck.
The kiss we’d shared in Queenstown flashed in my head, and I envisaged myself lying beneath him on that office desk. Fire raged through every part of my body, replacing the alcohol buzz in my blood with the sluggish burn of arousal.
He straightened, seeming no more aware of me than if he’d merely asked me the time.
I steered us onto a safer topic. ‘How do you think our charade is going?’
His broad smile told me he saw through my diversionary tactics. ‘Good, I’d say. I’ve asked Lucy to circulate the photo of us on the red carpet. I’d say by midnight, you’ll be the newest conquest of serial philanderer Nathan Banks.’ His lips twisted but his eyes were humourless.
My fingers twitched with the urge to touch his arm, but instead I fiddled with my hair, straightening a pin that held it in a fancy twist.
‘You did a great job out there.’ He nodded towards the windows. From this floor, we couldn’t see the fans lined up behind the barricades, but their roars were a constant reminder. ‘Crazy, isn’t it?’ He stared down at his glass on the bar.
I did indeed find his chosen profession ‘crazy’. He’d lapsed into a contemplative silence. What motivated him? ‘Did you always want to act?’
His eyes sparkled. ‘Yes. Like you, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’ He turned his whole body to face mine. ‘My parents are both actors, so I kind of grew up with it. I’d put on shows standing on the kitchen table, or if no one else was around to be my audience, in front of a mirror. At school, I joined every drama group going and by the age of thirteen I was in my first real theatre production.’
His energy was contagious. I could spend all night talking to this animated, self-assured guy. ‘But you ended up on TV?’
‘Yes. I got my first television role after university and I was hooked.’ We grinned at each other. ‘Ready for a little after-partying?’ He stood, ran his hand from my elbow to my wrist, and clasped my hand so he could guide me from the stool.
My hand felt too big for my body and my palm tingled, each skin cell exquisitely aware of being clasped by Nathan.
‘There’ll be dancing, and I promise not to stand on your feet.’
My hesitation dwindled when he lifted my arm, twirling me in an effortless arc. Who knew I could be so graceful?
His flirtatious tone beguiled me. Despite the dreaded ‘D’ word, I wasn’t ready for the night to end.
‘Oh? Then how could I refuse?’
He dropped my arm and we left the bar, side by side. This time, the heat from his hand in the small of my back scorched me like a brand.
***
Dancing with Nathan Banks was like foreplay. He moved with a languid grace of someone comfortable in his skin, and he held me so close almost every part of our bodies brushed, bumped or slid against each other. Heat rose between us, carrying his scent to my already spinning head.
I’d never been much of a dancer, but guided by Nathan’s confidence and pressed up against his hard chest, the appeal became glaringly obvious.
The volume of the music made conversation impossible, so I grasped Nathan’s forearms and stood up on tiptoes to yell in his ear, ‘I’m going to get some water.’
He nodded, releasing all but my hand, and led me from the crowded dance floor.
We were in the Dive Bar, Leicester Square, and the deep red and silver décor was both intimate and chic. Still clasping each other’s hands, we made our way to the mirrored bar and ordered two glasses of water.
The music was a fraction quieter here and the water so good, I bit back a groan. I stole a glance at Nathan to find him observing me with hungry eyes. He moved closer, placing one hand on my hip as his head dipped towards mine. It was no more than he’d done on the dance floor, but without the forced proximity of the jostling bodies around us, the intimacy levels soared.
My gaze locked on his mouth and the air trapped in my lungs. Was he going to speak over the music or kiss me?
‘Nathan, where’ve you been hiding?’ Claudia stumbled towards us. ‘Oh, I’m bombed.’ She laughed and grasped both of Nathan’s forearms to steady herself. Leaning in, she presented her face for Nathan’s kiss and he obliged, pressing his mouth to both her cheeks.
‘Claudia, you remember Sophia King, from New Zealand.’
Claudia gave me the onceover in that way women have of quickly assessing a potential rival. ‘Of course, hi. Did you enjoy the movie?’
‘Sophia’s not really a fan.’ Nathan widened his eyes, wincing in mock horror.
Why had he said that? Yes, I’d found it hard to watch him pseudo-fuck this beautiful woman, but I’d enjoyed the film up until then.
‘Oh?’ She turned back to Nathan, her hand still clutching his arm. ‘Darling, we’re off to The Cell. Wanna come?’
He turned back to me and raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you like to go to The Cell?’ His expression was guarded, and I couldn’t tell if he was keen or not. I didn’t want to cramp his style but I was beginning to feel the effects of the champagne combined with jet lag. I decided to go with honesty.
‘I’m about done. But don’t let me stop you going.’ I opened my clutch to retrieve my phone and check the time, surprise snapping my head up when I heard him speak.
‘We’re going to give it a miss this time,’ he said to Claudia.
‘What? No way. C’mon Nate. We’re partying.’ She tossed her arms above her head and gave him a personal little dance.
He smiled. ‘Not tonight. Another time.’
The jealousy was back, raising its green, ugly head. Despite my reservations, I’d had fun tonight, but he didn’t need to babysit me and miss a celebrity night on the town. ‘I’m fine, you should go—I’m going to call a cab.’ I glanced back at my phone, opening my taxi app.
Nathan reached for my forearm, stilling the movements of my thumb across the screen as his eyes shot me a warning glance. ‘I’ll see you home.’ Then to her, ‘You go have fun, Claudia.’
Two twenty-something women joined us, tugging at Claudia’s arm. ‘Okay, your loss, darling.’ She kissed his cheek, turned on her heel and followed her friends from the bar.
Nathan held my arm, a scowl marring his face.
‘What?’ If he wanted to go party, he could. It wasn’t like we were a real couple, and hopefully we’d already been seen together enough to support our pretence.
‘I’ll see you home.’ He took his phone from his pocket and fired off a text.
I pulled my arm from his grasp, stepping away from him. ‘I’ll be fine.’ Why was I snapping all of a sudden? Ten minutes ago, I’d genuinely been enjoying myself. Now my insides were hollow and my skin itched with impatience.
‘If I’d wanted to go, I wouldn’t be here now.’ His scowl deepened and I missed the easy, flirtatious Nathan I’d spent the evening with. Despite his denial, he was obviously pissed that he felt obliged to escort me home instead of snorting coke off Claudia’s lithe torso in the hottest club in London. Well, I hadn’t asked him to forgo his … fun.
I huffed. ‘It’s obvious you’re annoyed. I don’t want to cramp your style. I’m just tired.’ It was after two a.m. and I’d been in these heels for ten hours.
The set of his mouth closed the subject. ‘I’ve called my driver. I’ll take you home.’ He took my hand and led me around the edge of the dance floor, where the party continued to rage. The volume of the music prohibited conversation until we were in the stairwell heading down to street level. At the bottom of the stairs, we stopped just inside the doorway, each retreating to lean against opposite walls while we waited for the car.
My limbs turned leaden as hostile energy sparked in the air, separating us. How had we arrived here? One minute we’d been joking around, dancing and flirting, and now we could barely even look at each other.
A wave of fatigue washed over me. I braced one hand on the wall as I reached down to relieve my exhausted feet of their four-inch-heeled burdens. I moaned, the pleasure of freeing my feet too great to contain.
When I opened my eyes, Nathan stared at me, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned in a lazy slouch against the black wall. One knee was bent, his foot propped up and his shirt was loose about his neck. Even at two o’clock in the morning he was camera-ready, edible and entirely fuckable.
My irritation grew.
‘What?’ I didn’t care if there were one hundred paparazzi outside ready to photograph me with my shoes off; there was no way I was putting those torture devices back on.
‘You can’t blame me for the feet. I promised you I wouldn’t stand on them.’ He pushed his shoulders away from the wall and took a step in my direction, his casual confidence commanding in the small corridor.
My chest fluttered. ‘You were right. You’re not a bad dancer.’
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Not bad?’ He clutched his hand to his chest. ‘You wound me. And you’re a doctor. Those were my best moves.’
His flirty tone was back, but rather than easing my irritable mood, it only heightened it. I was snarky. ‘I thought I’d seen you give your best moves to Claudia at the premiere tonight.’
He tossed his head back and laughed, refusing to take the bait and bicker with me. Tutting, he shook his head from side to side. ‘It doesn’t count if it’s not fun. That was work.’ He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on my mouth.
His growing proximity confused me. I wanted to close the gap, but I also wanted to lash out at him. ‘Huh, right. What a terrible job you have. No fun at all.’
Another step closer—another surge of adrenaline. ‘You don’t believe me?’ His voice was low—an ominous rumble, issuing a challenge.
‘No, I don’t. I’m sure most men would happily swap jobs with you to writhe around naked with a beautiful woman.’
His eyes sparkled. ‘Are you jealous, Soph?’ He was so close now, the back of my head hit the wall behind me as I craned my neck to maintain the heated eye contact between us.
Jealous? Yes, but his ego didn’t need to know that. I opened my clutch to retrieve a tissue, lifting it to his cheek to wipe away the small smear of Claudia’s lipstick.
‘Why would I be jealous?’ My knuckles grazed the long stubble on his chin, sparks of electricity zinging up my arm. ‘I told you to leave with her.’ I dropped the tissue back inside and clicked my clutch shut. ‘Perhaps she was after a repeat performance.’
He braced one arm on the wall beside my head, his stare fixed on mine with suffocating intensity. ‘That’s the thing.’ He lifted a hand to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. ‘That’s exactly what it was—a performance.’ He dipped his head until his mouth was a mere whisper from mine, his face so close his eyes swam out of focus.
Despite the champagne, the jet lag and the sore feet I was suddenly completely sober and aware of every message from every nerve ending in my body.
‘You’re a good actor then. It looked very real.’ My breathing was shallow, gusting out in rapid pants, every inhale dragging his decadent scent into my lungs.
The briefest nod. ‘I am a good actor.’ His voice was a husky murmur, his breath mingling with mine as my lungs fought for air. ‘I can show you the real thing, if you want to see the difference for yourself.’
I wasn’t sure who moved first, but by the time his lips crashed to mine, I’d already dropped my shoes and clutch to the floor and tangled my fingers in his hair, holding his mouth captive. His body crushed mine to the wall, pressing against me from chest to thigh.
The moment our lips collided, the worries and turmoil of the past week seeped away and I embraced the heady euphoria of my desire for him. All reason fled. Any lingering objections and doubts faded away and my irritable goading of moments ago morphed into aching need.
His large hands cradled my jaw, and his fingers tunnelled into my hair as my lips parted on a gasp, allowing his tongue access. His hips jabbed into my belly, pinning me with determination. We were making out like randy teenagers in a swanky London hotel and I didn’t care.
Nathan pulled back a fraction, mumbling against my lips, ‘Hold that thought.’ With one hand on my waist, the other fished in his pocket and he pulled out his phone. He turned his head so he could read the text before slanting his mouth over mine once more. His breath whispered over my sensitised lips as he spoke. ‘Driver’s here.’ Another swipe of his lips. ‘Come home with me? No performance, just us.’
I dropped my forehead to his chest, sucking in sufficient oxygen to operate my brain. His heart thundered as he waited for my answer.
I placed both palms on his lapels and pushed him away so I was free to stoop and pick up my shoes and bag from the floor. Tucking the clutch under my arm, I held both shoes in one hand. I met his gaze, holding it for what seemed like hours but in reality was only seconds.
Decision time.
When I reached for his hand, a smile twitched his lips. Pulling me close, he relieved me of my shoes and ushered me outside to the waiting car.