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Oh, all right, she was. Any straight woman with a pulse would at least think about it if Noah Cross propositioned her, she was sure. But thinking was as far as Eloise was willing to go.
‘Don’t you think you should give it a try? Just once?’ Noah leaned in a little closer. ‘How else will you know if you like it or not?’
Eloise pulled back, fixing him with her sternest manager stare. This would all be so much easier if her whole body didn’t hum at the very sight of him. ‘And who, exactly, are you suggesting I have this fling with?’
Noah attempted a self-effacing look, which—kudos to his skill as an actor—almost looked realistic. ‘Well, there is always that old tradition about the maid of honour and the best man. But really, the whole room is full of attractive men—or women, if that’s your thing. All of them famous and at least half of them single—or acting as if they are, anyway.’
‘I don’t date actors,’ she said, the response as automatic and instinctive as saying yes to a cup of tea. ‘And I definitely don’t have meaningless flings with them.’ That wasn’t who she was. She’d worked hard to shake off the assumptions people in this town had made about her, based on her family and her upbringing. She wasn’t about to abandon her reputation now for one night with a movie star, just because he made her body respond in ways she’d forgotten it could.
Except he’d only offered himself as one possibility, hadn’t he? Clearly he wasn’t overly invested in this flirtation. It was all probably just a game to him. To get the repressed hotel manager to cut loose and go wild.
Well, not her. Not a chance.
‘Never?’ Noah raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow. What did we poor, defenceless actors ever do to you?’
‘Not to me. I told you. I don’t date actors.’ It was technically true—Derek hadn’t been an actor when she’d started dating him. He’d been a director. But then the leading man had fallen sick and he’d taken on the role—starring opposite Eloise’s mother. And from there it had been an old, familiar story.
She didn’t want to get into what so many actors had done to her mother. Or, more to the point, what her mother had done to them—and, by extension, what she’d done to Eloise and her father. Derek, the boyfriend her mother had stolen from her, had only been one in a long list of leading men she’d seduced then cast aside. If Eloise had needed proof that actors were all the same, she could pull out the box of old programmes her mother had kept from her amateur dramatics days and put together a list of names that made her point for her. And that was just in her home town. How much worse must Hollywood be? She didn’t want to find out.
And Noah didn’t need to know her sordid history. Especially since she absolutely was not going to sleep with him. No matter how much she wanted to.
A waiter passed and Eloise grabbed another glass of champagne. Melissa was paying for it, and it was her fault that Eloise had found herself in this position in the first place.
‘So, you’ve never dated an actor but you hate us all indiscriminately anyway. Interesting.’ Noah leant back against the bar behind him. ‘Care to tell me why you cling onto this prejudice so tenaciously? Especially since we’ve established that any fling at this wedding won’t be happening between us?’
He wasn’t the sort to give up—Eloise knew that after only a day in his company. If she had to guess, she’d say that Noah was the sort of guy who liked to understand something well enough for his own purposes and then move on. He was only interested in the surface knowledge, enough to fake a part, she supposed.
Well, surface she could do. She just didn’t want to get down to the deep, painful memories that lay underneath it.
Of course, she was pretty sure Noah didn’t want to either. If she actually broke down and gave him her sob story, he’d run in the other direction. That was something to keep in reserve, in case she needed it.
‘You’re all the same,’ she said with a shrug. ‘You fall in love for the length of time it takes to get a movie made, or to star in a play. Then, once it’s all over, you’re onto the next leading lady or love interest. Half your relationships are film promo, as far as I can tell.’
Noah raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow. You really do have a chip on your shoulder about this.’
‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ Eloise challenged. ‘You said yourself you were just looking for a fling.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with a fling, as long as both parties know what they’re getting into,’ Noah said mildly.
‘Which is what, exactly?’ Of course he’d think that. It was the perfect justification for never having to have a real relationship. ‘A meaningless encounter with someone you never really get to know?’
‘What’s so wrong with that?’ Noah asked with a shrug. ‘Maybe we’re not supposed to know the innermost depths of everyone we meet.’
‘Perhaps not. But...don’t you want that connection?’ Eloise had to admit she did. Which might be the reason she didn’t date so much. She hadn’t met many guys over the past few years she wanted to get to know that well. But that sounded a bit too much like conceding the point, so she didn’t say it.
‘Real and deep doesn’t mean for ever, Eloise.’ There was a harshness to Noah’s voice she hadn’t heard before. ‘The most real and important relationship of my life lasted barely twenty-four hours.’
She blinked. That was definitely new. ‘That must have been...intense.’ She couldn’t imagine it. From his tone she could tell that, whatever the relationship was, it had mattered—and mattered deeply. She couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to have that and then have it taken away again. What had happened? She wanted to ask but, before she could find a way to phrase the question, Noah spoke again.
‘It was.’ He flashed her a smile that was so at odds with the conversation Eloise wondered for a moment if she’d missed the joke. ‘Enough for one lifetime, anyway. Which is why I prefer things my way these days—fun, light and easy.’
‘And never getting in too deep,’ Eloise said, frowning.
‘That way you don’t drown,’ Noah joked. ‘I know when I’m out of my depth.’
She wanted to ask more, wanted to try and understand his attitude. Not to understand Noah himself, exactly, she realised, but to try and get some perspective on her mother. Was this how she’d felt? Or had she just been incapable of real love, as Eloise had always believed?
Maybe Noah was too. In which case, it was just as well she had no intention of getting any closer to him. A fling might be his sort of thing, but it wasn’t hers. It never had been.
And she was firmly ignoring the small voice at the back of her head whispering, How will you know if you never try it? Especially as it sounded exactly like Noah Cross.
‘So, who was she?’ Eloise asked, but Noah wasn’t listening any more. And, as she followed his gaze to the doorway, Eloise forgot what she’d been asking about.
Melissa stood in the entrance, arms wide, wearing a stunning forest-green gown that left her shoulders and a great deal of cleavage bare, before nipping in at her waist and following every curve down to her knees, where it flared out again.
‘Now that is not a boring dress,’ Noah murmured. ‘Of course, it would look better on you.’
‘Liar.’ Melissa looked as if she’d been born to wear that dress, and the smile on her face said she knew it.
‘It’s true.’ Noah pressed up behind her as the crowd gathered around the bride. ‘You have the height to pull it off—your legs would look endless. And that colour...made for a redhead.’
‘Maybe.’ But she’d never have the confidence to wear it. Not in a million years.
‘Of course, you’d have to wear your hair down,’ Noah added, touching the hundreds of pins that kept her hair firmly out of her way when she was working. ‘Which would be an added bonus.’
Clearly the guy had a thing for redheads. Which was funny because she’d never seen him with any on the red carpet.
‘I thought we’d established that we weren’t going to be having any sort of fling,’ she said drily. ‘I’m pretty sure that means you can stop with the compliments now.’
Noah shrugged. ‘I figured we could be friends instead. Friends compliment each other.’
Did they? Eloise wasn’t sure she’d know. But that might just be because Melissa had always been her baseline for friendship.
‘Friends?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Friends. Think you can manage it?’
‘I’ll give it a try,’ she replied drily. Friends with another Hollywood star. Hopefully this one would go better than her friendship with Melissa.
‘Everyone! My fiancé and I are just so delighted to welcome you all here to celebrate our wedding.’ Melissa beamed around the room and Riley stepped out of her shadow, looking awkward in a dinner jacket, and gave a little wave. ‘I hope you all have just the best time—’ She cut off abruptly, her smile replaced by a sudden scowl.
Eloise tried to figure out what had changed, and followed Melissa’s gaze to...oh, dear.
Dan had his arm around Laurel and, from where Eloise stood, she could see him staring up at Melissa, a challenge in his eyes.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Melissa asked, her hands on her hips.
‘Guess we weren’t the only ones who didn’t know about Laurel and Dan,’ Noah murmured as Eloise headed into the fray to smooth over the situation.
Playtime was over.
* * *
Noah sighed, putting the script to one side again, and wished that the curtains of the four-poster bed didn’t feel as if they were closing in. He had shut them to try and give himself a cosy cocoon in which to read through the script for Eight Days After again, looking for those deeper resonances he knew he’d need to hit to get the part. But instead he just felt trapped.
Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe this wasn’t the part for him. He was a good actor, he knew that. But this role...maybe it cut a little too close to home.
He thought back over his conversation with Eloise. Now there was a woman who believed in deep and meaningful. He almost wished he could just get her to explain it to him, so he could fake it well enough to get the part without ever actually having to feel it himself. If there was a woman in the world who could do it, Noah would place money on it being Eloise. There was something about her eyes, her expressions. The way everything she felt or thought was telegraphed out to her audience in her face. He could almost see the thoughts floating across her eyes, like subtitles on a foreign movie.
She didn’t think much of him—that was certain. Which was a shame, given his body’s automatic reaction whenever she was near—but also probably just as well, under the circumstances.
No, it was just as well they’d established the ‘no fling’ ground rules. Not only was he not in the market for it right now, but she was clearly out for love, marriage, the whole shebang. And he most definitely wasn’t. Noah wasn’t the sort of guy who’d let a girl carry those sorts of hopes into bed with her, even if it was the only way to get her there. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t worth it. He was always very clear about what he was willing to offer.
And he’d only ever offered more once. Only to have it all taken away twenty-four hours later.
Suddenly restless, Noah pushed the curtains aside and jumped off the bed, heading for the minibar.
He shouldn’t have mentioned Sally to Eloise. Oh, he might not have said her name, might not have gone into detail, but Eloise was the sort of woman who asked questions. She’d want to know more and, given how much time they were likely to be spending together over the next few days, she’d try her hardest to find out. Noah foresaw a lot of time spent sidestepping questions in his future. Good job he’d had all that fancy media training. Avoiding Eloise’s questions would be as hard as any interview he’d ever sat.
He supposed he’d started it. He’d wanted to play, wanted to pick at her secrets and truths. It was only fair she got to do the same in return.
Noah poured a healthy measure of whisky into one of the glass tumblers on top of the well-stocked refrigerator, then bypassed the sofa to head back to the bed, leaving the curtains open this time. He took a sip, savouring the burn of the alcohol in his throat. This was what he needed to focus on—the here and now, the current moment. Not a woman seven years dead, or the future he had lost that day.
Eloise might think that all actors were only in it for the cheap thrill, the quick, meaningless satisfaction. But she was wrong. He’d wanted more once—and he’d had it too.
Just not for very long.
He’d spent his whole teenage years in love with one woman. And when she finally realised she might feel the same...he’d let her down, just when she’d needed him most.
He knew how it felt to have his heart ripped from his chest, and he wasn’t about to go seeking that again.
He took another gulp of whisky. He didn’t need the memories tonight. He needed to focus on the script and how to fake those deeper emotions he’d locked away inside the day Sally died. Because he had no intention of ever feeling them again.
CHAPTER SIX (#u669e95ea-7edd-5c3f-a502-2a8965d3bfc7)
IT HADN’T TAKEN much to convince Melissa that making a scene about her half-sister and brother-in-law-to-be getting together at her own wedding wasn’t the best PR plan she’d ever had, especially with the reporter covering the wedding watching. Melissa had looked stormy for a moment, then reverted to the sweetness and light actress the rest of the room—those who didn’t actually know her very well—were expecting. It was almost disconcerting to see the shift, Eloise thought.
Still, she hadn’t felt confident leaving Melissa alone with Laurel until the crowd of guests had mostly departed to their beds. Noah had called it quits some time earlier, whispering a goodnight in her ear as he left.
Eloise had spent more of the night remembering the feel of his lips so close to her than she would ever admit to him. By the time morning rolled around, she hadn’t had nearly as much sleep as she’d hoped to get.
Yawning, she stretched and reached for her smartphone, sitting on her bedside table. They had another big day ahead of them—especially with the Frost Fair that afternoon. Melissa had wanted something wintry, magical and British for her guests to enjoy as a pre-wedding event. Eloise and Laurel had come up with the idea of a traditional Frost Fair, like they used to hold on the frozen River Thames back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. If nothing else, it would provide quite a spectacle, Eloise was sure.
Of course, first she had to get through a dress fitting with Melissa.
Pressing the screen on her phone, Eloise called Laurel to check on her plans for the day, and quickly checked in with her deputy about anything that might come up while she was being fitted for her maid of honour dress. Laurel, Eloise couldn’t help but note, sounded far grumpier than Eloise would if she’d spent the night with a guy as gorgeous as Dan. She hoped that Melissa’s reaction the night before hadn’t caused problems between the two of them. Laurel deserved a nice guy.
Eventually, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Showered and dressed in a knitted navy dress and knee boots, Eloise headed down to the conference room they’d put aside for the final dress fittings that morning. Melissa was already there, holding court over the two other bridesmaids while a harried-looking woman unpacked pins and measuring tapes and dress bags.
‘And here’s the replacement maid of honour,’ Melissa said, looking up as Eloise entered the room. ‘I hope you didn’t eat too many of the canapés last night, Eloise, or you’ll never fit into the dress!’ The bridesmaids both laughed, and Eloise bit her tongue to keep from responding. Apparently Melissa had already forgotten her comments about Cassidy, the previous maid of honour, putting on weight for a part. She’d probably remember in time to make another joke at Eloise’s expense, once she had the dress on.
She really hadn’t missed Melissa at all in the past decade, Eloise thought.
‘We were just talking about how Laurel and Dan tried to steal my thunder last night,’ Melissa went on.
‘And failed,’ one of the bridesmaids, who Eloise faintly recognised from her most recent cinema trip, said. Was she Iona? Eloise wasn’t sure. After a while, all those Hollywood blondes started to look the same to her.
‘Of course they did!’ said the other bridesmaid, who Eloise was almost certain was called Caitlin. ‘As if anyone cared about anything except how fabulous Mel looked in that dress last night.’
They all turned to Eloise, apparently waiting for her agreement. ‘It was a very beautiful dress,’ she said, hoping that was good enough. From what she’d overheard, plenty of people had an opinion on the groom’s brother and bride’s sister getting together. Some were even giving odds on their relationship outlasting Melissa and Riley’s.
‘And so is yours!’ Melissa clapped her hands together as the seamstress pulled the first bridesmaid’s dress from its bag. ‘Not as gorgeous as mine, of course, but still. What do you think?’
Eloise stared at the icy blue-green concoction of chiffon and silk. The colour wasn’t one she’d ever choose to wear but it was very appropriate for a winter wedding, she supposed. If they insisted on having photos taken outside, her skin colour might actually match the dress. That would be nice.
‘It’s lovely,’ she lied, as she got a good look at the laces at the back of the corset top. Corsets were for people with curves, weren’t they? And she didn’t have nearly as many of those as Melissa, or the bridesmaids. Eloise had height, long legs and a slender body, none of which, she imagined, were going to be shown off to their best advantage by this dress.
Which shouldn’t bother her at all. This was effectively a job, and she wore boring grey suits to work every day and never worried about whether they complemented her complexion. Why should she care now?
Because you’ll be standing next to Noah Cross.
She wished she could pretend that she just wanted to look good in the world’s media when the photos came out but, given that she was starring in this wedding alongside people who’d made the top ten in the world’s most beautiful people list, there wasn’t a hope of that to start with.
No, what she was really thinking about were Noah’s words the night before. ‘That is a very boring dress.’ Even though they’d established there would be no romance between them, a small part of her couldn’t help but wish the dress Melissa had picked might have wowed him, just a little.
She sighed. He’d just have to deal with a non-boring but faintly hideous dress, she supposed.
Stepping behind the screen they’d set up, Eloise slipped into the dress and pulled the corset top up over her non-existent curves.
‘Let me tighten that for you,’ the seamstress said, coming up behind her and yanking on the laces. Eloise winced as all the air flew out of her body. Apparently someone was determined for her to have curves, even if breathing had to be sacrificed.
Once she was suitably tightened and tied, Eloise stepped out into the main room, where the other two bridesmaids were already in their dresses. Apparently actresses didn’t have the same privacy issues as normal people. On each of them, the icy blue looked stunning against their blonde hair, and their delicate curves, quite possibly emphasised by breast implants, were highlighted to perfection. Looking at them, Eloise was surer than ever that Melissa’s comment about Laurel’s cleavage not fitting in the dress was just another excuse not to make her half-sister maid of honour.
‘Well, don’t you look...?’ Melissa trailed off and gave her a patronisingly encouraging smile. ‘I told you the dress would fit, didn’t I? Corsets are marvellously forgiving.’
‘I’ll just need to let down the hem a little...’ The seamstress fussed around her with the measuring tape.
Eloise wanted nothing more than to strip the dress off right there, no matter who was watching, and get back to hiding in her professional grey suit.
But then she heard Noah’s voice from the door to her left. ‘Wow.’
Fixing a smile onto her face, she turned to look at him, hoping against hope that he was a good enough actor to make her feel slightly less like an ugly stepsister in a pantomime.
‘You look... Wow.’ Noah’s gaze ran the length of her body before it met her own, and Eloise swallowed as she realised he wasn’t acting. Or if he was he was a lot better at it than his films suggested.
‘Noah Cross lost for words,’ Melissa said, her light tone sounding forced. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’
Noah broke away from staring at her, and Eloise tried to take a deep breath to recover from the intensity of his gaze. Then she remembered the corset and settled for a few shallow ones instead.
