The Chatsfield Short Romances 6-10

Not wanting to outright lie, Chloe moistened her lips and pushed on. ‘You’ve never done a period piece before. Is this ah, something we will see more of in the future?’

Liam shrugged. ‘If I’m offered them and the scripts are good.’

‘Right.’ She stared hard at her iPad and read the next lame question. ‘Did you enjoy making this film?’

‘I did.’

‘What made you choose it?’ And do you really not recognise me as the girl you kissed so sweetly at senior prom and then humiliated so spectacularly afterwards?

He shrugged easily. ‘The script. The director. The physicality of the movie.’

No, he did not and even though she told herself not to get angry her blood sang with it.

‘Right,’ she said again, not caring a wit about his answers. ‘And the physicality of the film is important, is it?’

He tilted his head a little at her asinine question and looked like he was about to say something before changing his mind. ‘Sometimes. I’m a physical guy, I guess. But I would say that’s less important than the storyline.’

‘Oh yes, the storyline.’ She sniffed. ‘Hardly ground-breaking stuff though was it? I mean, don’t you think it reinforces the old male/female paradigms?’

Chloe was hoping to score a point with that one but he gave her another trademark smile. ‘Depends which paradigm you’re talking about?’

Oh, he knew which one, damn him, and he looked like he was enjoying her grilling rather than being annoyed by it. ‘Well you rescue the heroine from the bad guys and save the day. Tell me, was it a stretch to play the hero?’ Considering it’s not part of your genetic makeup?

Chloe heard a muffled cough from Miss LA behind her and wondered for a horrible moment if she had said that last bit out loud. It was one thing to want to insult him and quite another to do it while she was on the clock.

‘I don’t think there’s any character that isn’t without his faults. Even a hero, at times.’ His eyes seemed to bore into hers and then he smiled. ‘And for a while in the film Bethany’s character thought I was the bad guy and she kicked my butt. Something you might have enjoyed.’

Not half as much as she would have if it had been real. ‘True, but then you once again ended up on top.’

His smile was lethally charismatic and Chloe couldn’t have looked away to save herself. ‘I don’t think she was too unhappy about that.’

What female would be?

‘In real life or in the movie?’ Chloe could have groaned as the crass question left her lips. So much for modelling herself on Veronica Guerin. But now that it was out there she had little choice but to lift her chin and wear it.

She noticed his thick, dark lashes come down over his mesmerising green eyes and thought that, if anything, the question had seemed to score a hit of some sort. Go her.

***

Chloe’s pointy little question about his co-star made Liam frown and usually he wouldn’t even bother responding to one of that nature. Romances between actors sold magazines. He knew it and so did the actresses he worked with but it didn’t mean they had to add fodder to it.

For some reason Chloe’s question bothered him and he realised with a flash of insight that it was because he didn’t want her to think poorly of him. He didn’t want her thinking he was just a pretty face who couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag, as his father did. He also didn’t want her thinking that he was some sort of player who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Since starting in this business he’d had more offers from women than stars in the sky and he could count on one hand – okay, maybe two– the number of times he’d given into those. The fact was his career meant more to him than a quick bout of sexual release with women who would spread their legs for most any movie star they came across. ‘That’s like asking me if I really put my sword through the antagonist’s heart,’ he countered.

But Chloe was no longer the mouse she had been in high school. ‘Hardly.’ She stared him down and he wondered if she still wore those cute round glasses she used to. ‘Stabbing is illegal. Kissing isn’t.’

‘No, it’s not,’ he murmured. He found his eyes drawn to her throat as she swallowed. Hell, his eyes were drawn to every part of her and he really needed to get some control over his libido. He didn’t really want Chloe Tyler in that way, did he?

‘Bethany Lord and I were acting,’ he assured her. ‘If you thought the chemistry between us looked real then we did our jobs well.’ Which was the truth. Bethany had been great to work with but there had been nothing even slightly romantic between them.

Intrigued about what Chloe might say next Liam was disappointed when his PA interrupted again.

‘Time’s up, Ms Lane.’

***

And thank heavens for that. Now she could get the hell out of there and maybe go and order a gin and tonic from the main bar off the hotel foyer. Maybe she’d order three. And maybe she’d ask the bartender to hold the tonic on the first two.

‘Thank you, Mr Hunter.’ She stuck her hand out automatically and then wished she hadn’t because Liam took it and the warmth of his strong grip engulfed her.

Once again her heartbeat sped up and she couldn’t tear her eyes from their joined hands, his palm warm and slightly rough against her own. A tingling sensation shot along her nerve endings and caused a shiver to snake down her spine. Unfortunately he saw it. And his slow grin said that he took it for what it was. Pure sexual awareness.

When she tried to surreptitiously pull her hand free Liam gripped it tighter. ‘I’m having a party in my room later on tonight. Come.’

He ran the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand and the meaning behind his touch couldn’t have been clearer. To say that it shocked her would be a gross understatement.

Was it possible that Liam Hunter was attracted to her?

No. Not her per se – but possibly to this new version of her. He was interested in the well-groomed woman with the red lipstick and, okay, the short flirty skirt. He didn’t want the dorky country girl she suddenly realised that she still was deep down inside. The girl who preferred hot chocolate to coffee and still wore fluffy animal slippers in the privacy of her own home. The girl who still struggled with her hair on a daily basis and who wasn’t quite as over the boy she had fallen in love with as she would like to think she was.

The boy who was now a man and who was asking her to come to his room to have sex with him, if she was not mistaken, as if he was ordering a burger at a drive thru. And no doubt she would mean just as much to him afterwards.

Chloe wasn’t sure what disgusted her the most. The fact that he didn’t recognise her, the fact that he was gazing at her with the confidence of a natural born lothario, or the fact that she was so tempted to say yes she could feel the word burning on the tip of her tongue.

And maybe she should, she thought with a spurt of defiance; her earlier fantasy to show him what he had missed out on returning in a rush. Maybe she should go to his stupid party and completely embarrass him when she announced who she really was. That would wipe that lazy, confident expression from his privileged and way too handsome face. He’d probably be appalled that he’d come onto Chloe Tyler – Queen of the Dorks – and it would serve him right.

‘Come on… Candy? It will be the perfect opportunity for us to talk.’

Talk? With that hot, melting look in his eyes and the way he said the name Candy – as if he was already thinking about treating her like a sweet. Oh, yes, he wanted to do a lot more than talk, and for the life of her Chloe couldn’t control the rush of pleasure that throbbed deep inside her body. Couldn’t control the unbidden desire to have him kiss her all over.

This was the look she had always wanted to see in his eyes, had imagined that she had seen on prom night, and even though she told herself he was a rat who played women any way that he wanted to, her ego loved the attention. Loved that he found the new her attractive.

‘Put Ms Lane’s name on the guest list, Noelle.’ His gaze didn’t waver from hers as he issued his instructions to Miss LA, and Chloe nearly gasped at his arrogance.

Then without thinking too much she let her middle finger graze the inside of his wrist, enjoying the heady sensation of power that came over her when his pupils expanded and his nostrils flared. Oh yes, she could already imagine the sense of revenge she would feel when she brought Mr I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-skin Hunter down a peg or two.

She forced a simpering smile to her lips. ‘What’s your room number?’

The overhead halogen lighting made his green eyes glow like precious jewels. ‘Four two six. Nine pm. Don’t be late.’

Chapter Three

Don’t be late.

Arrogant jock. She had a good mind not to turn up and she fumed as she stalked back towards the hotel entrance, only slowing her pace as she noticed people starting to glance at her sideways. It wasn’t as if the hounds of hell were really after her. Just her own oversized insecurities and a deep desire for validation.

But how was she really going to pull this off? For a start she had nothing to wear that could be considered remotely alluring. She pictured the contents of her mostly work-related wardrobe. This skirt was the shortest and cutest thing she owned. The rest was made up mostly of tailored suits or jeans. Would jeans be enough to hold his interest?

Only if they’re so tight they leave nothing to the imagination.

Her lips twisted in disgust. What was she thinking? She’d been carried away by a moment of high fantasy and now… now reality had returned with a thump. A thump that told her she was still just as attracted to him as she ever was and that he was just as big a rat as he ever was. How, during their weekly tutoring sessions she’d managed to convince herself otherwise was still impossible to comprehend. ‘You always see the best in people, Chlo,’ her father used to say when she was a child. He’d said it as if it was a virtue but Chloe wasn’t so sure. Wasn’t that how she’d been blindsided by Liam’s mean trick in the first place?

And now you’re going to put yourself in Liam Hunter’s clutches again? Why not throw yourself under a bus while you’re at it, her brain counselled, it might be quicker.

No. She shook her head as she stopped in front of an exquisite boutique that looked like it would max out a black Amex card if she just walked through the door. No, if she went through with this crazy idea she had two things in her favour. Liam didn’t know who she was and her heart wasn’t involved in the slightest.

Noticing a beautiful pale pink halter-style gown in amongst the couture handbags, perfume and jewellery, Chloe found herself inside the boutique and fingering the exquisitely silky fabric. The dress was cinched in at the waist and then looked like it fell to the floor. Pity she didn’t have her colour swatch given to her by her aunt with the approved colours for her. Not that she’d ever have the confidence to wear a dress like that. She was way too tall.

‘It will be perfect with your hair and skin. Not to mention your height.’

Turning, Chloe expected to see some deferential shop assistant about to do a hard sell on her, when she found herself face to face with current London ‘It’ girl and wild child of the Chatsfield clan – Cara Chatsfield.

‘You’re Cara Chatsfield,’ Chloe almost stammered with her shock. ‘Sorry, that was truly gauche of me.’

Cara laughed, her voice light and musical. ‘Not at all. It’s nice to stand next to someone taller than me for a change. That dress can either be dressed up or down depending on the shoes you choose.’

Chloe glanced at her Audrey Hepburnesque black ballet flats.

‘Probably not those.’ Cara laughed. ‘Go on, try it on.’

Chloe glanced at the dress dubiously. ‘I think I’m too tall.’

‘Nonsense. It’s made for a tall girl,’ Cara said. ‘And that colour will bring out the strawberry tones in your hair. Is that natural by the way?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now I’m truly jealous. Go on. The designer is fabulous.’

As was the price tag most likely but Chloe did as the famous model bid, wondering if perhaps she’d stepped down a rabbit hole or something. Or perhaps she was just asleep in her bed and this was all just a weird dream.

Wishful thinking, she thought somewhat miserably.

But when she appeared with the dress on Chloe had to admit that it was dazzling.

‘What did I tell you?’

Cara stood beside her in the full-length mirror wearing a very daring and very short electric blue strapless dress with gladiator sandals. The outfit should have looked garish. It only looked fabulous.

‘Are you going to wear it somewhere special?’ Cara asked.

Chloe hesitated and then thought what the hell; everything about this day felt surreal anyway. ‘Liam Hunter’s party tonight.’

‘Oooh my.’ Cara’s eyes twinkled with devilment. ‘He will keel over when he sees you in that. Are you dating him?’

‘No.’

There must have been something in her tone because Cara placed a manicured hand on her arm. ‘There’s a story there. Why don’t you tell it to me over at the salon where you can have your hair and makeup done as well.’

‘Hair and makeup?’

‘Sara, be a love and put both outfits on my account.’

‘You can’t possibly pay for my dress,’ Chloe spluttered.

‘Yes I can, my father owns the hotel.’ Cara grinned mischievously and Chloe wondered if anyone could resist her when she did that. ‘Come on. Say yes, I’m in dire need of cheering up right now. What was your name by the way?’

‘Chloe, but–’

‘Great.’

Linking her arm through Chloe’s, Cara had herded her out of the boutique and across the wide hall into a discrete-looking salon before she had a chance to blink, let alone object. She’d leave a cheque for the dress at reception later, she decided.

Still… ‘I should warn you that I’m a journalist,’ Chloe pulled a face, her innate sense of right and wrong coming to the fore. ‘Not that I would ever repeat anything you said to me outside of a formal interview.’

Cara tilted her head and inspected her. Then she smiled. ‘And now I trust you even more. Charles!’ Cara air kissed a short grey-haired man with a goatee. ‘My friend Chloe here needs you to wave your magic wand and then I’ve decided to go pink.’

Chloe looked at Cara’s white blonde hair. ‘Pink?’

Cara shrugged. ‘It’s about the only colour I haven’t tried. Other than blue…’

Two hours later Chloe felt completely bamboozled as she stared at her reflection in the salon mirror. She had spent a lot of time learning how to play up her looks since her disastrous high school days but Charles had done something else. He’d made her beautiful.

Her makeup was elegant and barely there the way she liked it and he’d cut soft layers into her hair that meant that it didn’t bounce around her head when it was down. ‘Wow.’

‘Wow is right.’ Cara came to stand beside her. ‘Now where are you getting changed?’

Chloe blinked. ‘I was going to pop home and–’

‘Ruin your gorgeous hair and makeup. No.’ Cara twisted and turned in front of the mirror and Chloe wished she had a shred of her confidence. ‘You can come to the suite I’ve booked for the night. I’m having a small party myself and we can use the time to perfect your marvellous plan to show Liam Hunter what he missed out on.’

Chloe was still shocked that she’d even confided her story to the stunning model but there was something about her that had gained Chloe’s confidence. Or maybe she had just needed to talk to someone. Get some advice. She wasn’t exactly the vengeful type and what if he laughed at her inexperienced attempts at seduction? Fortunately Cara had given her plenty of ideas and added stiletto heels to her purchases so she could be sure to really leave her mark on Liam Hunter as she used him as a doormat on her way out.

Yet even as she’d told Cara how much she disliked Liam, Chloe could still feel the way his long fingers had felt wrapped around her own. Still see the chiselled perfection of his face, still smell his woodsy male scent. Part of her obviously did like him. Very much. And it had nothing to do with her brain.

Did he really find her attractive now or had it all been in her imagination? And was it pathetic of her to feel just a little thrilled at the prospect?

Chloe swallowed. The more she thought about her marvellous plan for revenge the sicker she felt.

Chapter Four

She wasn’t coming.

Liam paced around his vast hotel living area taking no notice of the lavish furnishings which were currently draped with a throng of party goers he didn’t know. When he’d first made it big in Hollywood he’d soaked up parties like this one. Parties strewn with near naked girls who were more than willing to put out even in a room full of people, and guys who wanted to bask in the glow of his overnight success.

What would they all think if they heard about the horrible prank he’d been a part of five years ago? His father would be ashamed of him if he knew the full extent of it and while Liam hadn’t been personally responsible for the romantic banner pinned to the wall asking Chloe to marry him he’d been responsible for leading her on. He’d been responsible for letting her wrap her arms around his neck and for letting her say she loved him when he could have prevented it. Yes, he’d been dumbfounded by the joke. Dumbfounded that his friends had taken things to that level. But he’d done nothing to stop it and he still hated himself for that more than anything.

His ex-friends had uploaded the secret video straightaway, calling Chloe the plain pony to his sexy stallion. A frown marred Liam’s brow. She might not have been one of those girls who played on her looks but that didn’t make her plain. Not with those striking blue eyes and wavy red hair. That lush mouth that she’d nibble on in between explaining verb conjugations and negative infinitives. The fact that he’d been able to retain half the stuff she was telling him was thanks to that mouth and the amount of time he’d spent watching it.

And she wasn’t coming.

‘Hey, dude, great party.’

Liam studied the public school guy who looked like he’d had too much to drink and whom he didn’t know. Noelle had handed him a guest list at the start of the night but the only name he’d looked for was Chloe’s – aka Candy Lane. Married or a pseudonym? He hadn’t had a minute to himself all afternoon to find out. ‘Thanks, man.’ He nodded. ‘Say, you got the time?’

Preppie swayed on his feet as he pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘Quarter past twelve. Hey man, we should totally do a selfie.’

Liam obliged and pasted a smile on his face. He was learning to manage the fame aspect of his life and he certainly didn’t resent having fans. It was just that the more people who wanted to be around him because he was famous the more disconnected he felt from them.

And now he was ridiculously close to feeling sorry for himself and – there she was. Standing just inside the main doorway looking like a vision. The sight of her made Liam’s entire being rise to full alert. Damn she was pretty.

His eyes skimmed over her curvaceous figure in a pale dress that clung in all the right places. Her hair was loose and rippled down her back like a thick blanket, the overhead lights making it look as if it was on fire.

No, she’d never been plain and if his friends pinned that corny banner up now asking her to marry him everyone in the room would think it was real.

God, he had to apologise for that. But first he had to get rid of his suddenly sweaty palms, get her a drink and just talk to her. Find out why she’d changed her name to something that sounded like it belonged to a pop star and whether she was single.

For some reason that information seemed vitally important as he crossed the room to her before some of the other men checking her out got there first.

Her eyes widened as he approached and he glanced at her ring finger. Bare. That meant she was single because he instinctively knew she wasn’t the type to play games with men. The type who thought loyalty meant dumping someone right after they’d slept with someone else. And he only just realised how sick of that type he was. ‘I’m glad you could make it.’ He grinned. Somehow he felt like a weight had been lifted now that she had arrived.

She nodded but didn’t catch his eye. Okay, so this wasn’t going to go as easily as he had hoped. ‘Champagne?’ he asked.

‘No thanks.’ She smoothed her hands down her skirt. ‘I’m not really thirsty.’

Liam felt his grin widen. The last time he met a girl who drank because she was thirsty he’d been in grade school.

‘Oh, you mean alcohol.’ She blushed as she realised her gaffe and something inside his chest pulled tight. ‘Um, I probably shouldn’t anyway. I’ve already had some wine.’

Unfortunately that bit of information made his mood instantly darken. ‘So you’ve been out already?’ He knew his voice sounded sharp but he wanted to know where she had been and who with. The bite of jealousy as deep as it was unexpected.

‘No, not really.’ She glanced around and he realised he’d made her nervous. Way to go, Casanova. ‘Great crowd you have here.’

Liam scowled. He couldn’t give a damn about the crowd. If he had his way he’d clear it at once. No doubt that would piss off his PA who had worked her tail off at the last minute to put it together. Right now he didn’t care. He just wanted to be alone with Chloe.

***

Chloe pretended rapt interest in the milling crowd to try and steady her nerves. She still didn’t really have a plan as to when she was going to reveal her big ta-da moment but Cara had proposed that she lead up to it. ‘Flirt with him first. Flatter his ego and flash your amazing cleavage and make him so hot that when you deliver your “not interested” punch line it takes him a moment to register it. Then turn away and swan out the door.’

Easy peasy, Chloe thought. Only when you had paddles for feet swanning wasn’t really something you could do that well – it would be more like clomping – and she wouldn’t know how to flirt if instructions magically lit up above Liam Hunter’s head.

There was also the not so small problem that she found him so incredibly attractive in a black shirt stretched over his torso and denim jeans riding low on his lean hips; the casual slouch in his broad shoulders that had been there even before Hollywood had scooped him up adding to his sex appeal.

He’d always been too cool for school and it made her blush just to think that she could have imagined that someone like him could have ever been interested in someone like her.

‘I didn’t think you were going to turn up.’

Chloe’s eyes cut to his. Was that apprehension she heard in his voice? For a moment she couldn’t think how to respond and then her head said ‘Flirt, flirt’ and she said, ‘Oh, really?’ and ran her hand oh-so-casually through her hair.

‘Yes,’ he said gruffly.

Wondering at the sudden roughness in his voice, Chloe decided it was a lot easier to look at the crowd than at him. ‘Why wouldn’t I? You’re a famous actor.’

‘Is that why you came? Because I’m famous?’

No, she had come because he was horrible and needed to be taught a lesson, but she could see that her attempt to lull him with flattery had fallen way short of the mark. ‘I’m here because you asked me.’

Frustration shone from his green eyes. ‘Tell me about Candy Lane.’

Chloe blinked. Tell him about Candy Lane? ‘Well, she’s a journalist and she lives in London.’ All true. ‘And she went-’

‘I meant what’s behind the name.’

He sounded churlish and Chloe had a moment’s fear that he knew who she was. ‘Do you think I could have a glass of water?’ she croaked. ‘I am quite thirsty come to think of it.’