Читать книгу Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs - Louisa George - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

JAKE HAD TO admit that flying by private jet was going to be pretty damned cool. He wasn’t easily impressed, but he was looking forward to this part of the potentially mind-numbing trip more than anything else. Somehow he’d managed to score a flight with Cameron, and he needed to find time to talk to her about his suspicions of her pregnancy and what antenatal care she should be having.

Thankfully he could concentrate on that, and then try to get some shut-eye after failing to get a decent night’s sleep for the first time in his life. Medical school then interning—being woken up at any time of day and night and expected to respond immediately with both a ready smile and a correct diagnosis—had taught him to be able to sleep anywhere he needed, any time. He could power up and down on demand as easily as his trusty laptop.

Except for the last few nights—when he hadn’t been able to get the taste and smell of Lola, along with memories of her easy laugh and mesmerising smile, out of his head. All the more reason he needed this break—mind-numbing or not—to reaffirm his work focus and equilibrium. He would approach it as he did everything else, with single-minded determination to do it to the highest standard.

It was, after all, what he’d promised his father he would do—and the only thought going through his brain right now, other than Lola, were the words he’d used at his father’s bedside in the hospital. ‘I’ll pay you back, double, triple what you’ve given me. Just get well and come home.’ His dad had paid too high a price for Jake to lose focus.

After ditching his car at valet parking, he strode into the private airfield departure lounge, which was more like a converted hangar than anything particularly luxurious, and was immediately greeted by a cacophony of shouts, hysterical screaming and wild yapping.

‘Get her, quick, grab her, hurry!’ Cameron was screaming, as a small brown dog wearing a studded diamanté collar, head down and teeth bared, scampered faster than Jake imagined a dog that size could go towards an open door that led to the tarmac. Dropping his bags, Jake set off in hot pursuit, dodging air crew, ground crew, piles of luggage, a refuelling lorry and, thankfully, but only just, a catering trolley heading straight for him.

The dog, seemingly enjoying this game of one hundred metre dash, bounded towards the steps of a private Cessna.

‘Peanut! Sit. Sit!’ From behind Jake a stern but breathless English voice bellowed through the hangar and, unbelievably, the dog came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the steps. ‘Naughty girl! Now, come here.’

Lola?

Jake took the opportunity to creep forward and grab the dazed puppy, securing it under his arm. I did not sign up for this.

Then he turned to see the cause of his insomnia, who was doubled over, trying to haul in air while simultaneously juggling two other bejewelled, yapping dogs close to her breasts. Lucky damned pooches.

And there he was again—losing himself.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d be here, but maybe she’d come to wave the Nassau-bound party off? Making sure her boss actually left the ground? Not such a bad idea. Shame she’d be stuck with those dogs, though. Nightmare. ‘Peanut? That’s a name? I thought it was something you had with beer.’

‘Sorry, it’s chaos as always. Can we do a swap? Please take Butter for a second while I secure Peanut. Yes, we have Peanut, Butter and this is Jelly. I know.’ Lola straightened up, offered one of the other dogs to Jake. He couldn’t tell whether she was glaring at him or the dogs. Either way there was no smile, and he felt guilty by association. ‘Not my choices, by the way. So, Peanut is the devil incarnate—you need to keep a special eye on her or she’ll be AWOL in five seconds flat. Butter is the glutton and Jelly is the sweetie. Take my advice, never, ever get three puppies at the same time.’

‘It never crossed my mind to get even one. Ever.’ He swapped one wriggling jiggling dog for another, which leaned in close and sniffed his face. Its breath smelt like rank dog biscuits and its claws were sharp. Then it stuck out its pink tongue. For a second he thought it was going to take a bite, but instead it began to lick his cheek with unhindered gusto. ‘Ugh. No. Er... Butter. Stop.’

He held it at arm’s length, looked over at Lola, who was now grinning at his discomfort, and then wished he hadn’t as he noticed the smooth curve of her mouth and her clipped-back hair, the soft cotton flowered top and loose skirt that blew a little round her legs in the light wind. That flight couldn’t come soon enough.

With a rise of her eyebrows Lola nodded. ‘She likes you. That’s her way of kissing.’

‘Yuck. Personally, I prefer the human way.’ The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the memories of the other night tumbled too, making him feel hot and unsatisfied all over again. It was obvious that Lola was thinking the same, as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away red-cheeked, leaving him wondering exactly where things would have ended up if he hadn’t uttered those kiss-of-death—or rather, death-of-kiss—words: Cameron Fontaine.

‘Yes. Well...’ Lola attached a lead to Peanut’s collar, took Butter from his outstretched hands and put all three dogs on the ground. ‘Unfortunately she hasn’t mastered the art of tact yet.’

‘Like her owner.’ And me. Jake threw Lola a smile, not sure if it was reassuring or what the hell it was. He didn’t know the required etiquette for talking to someone who really didn’t want to share the same air as him, and had told him as much.

Lola looked up at him through dark, thick eyelashes, solemn and serious. ‘Er...about the other day—’

‘No need...really.’

‘It’s just, you know, bad timing.’

‘It’s fine, I understand.’ Although he didn’t. Seriously, he was a surgeon, dealing with science and facts and black and white. All this chaos and acting and kissing was way beyond his comprehension.

But he did understand her reluctance to want to do it again. She’d been taking up far too much of his head space. He preferred his liaisons to be brief, satisfactory and forgettable. That way he could focus entirely on his work and paying back his dad. Just the thought of the debt he owed gave Jake a jolt in his chest.

‘Lola! Do hurry up! And you too, Dr Lewis.’ Ms Fontaine was waving and indicating that it was time to leave. ‘Don’t make us late. Lola, where are your bags?’

‘Sorry! Coming!’ Lola started towards her boss, encouraging the three yapping stooges to follow on their leads. ‘Come on, sweeties. Hurry up. This way.’

But Jake held back, suddenly off balance all over again. ‘What? Your bags?’

‘Oh. Yes.’ Lola threw the comment over her shoulder, like scraps to a hungry bird. ‘Apparently Mommy doesn’t want to leave her babies—for some reason she’s come over more broody than usual and can’t bear to be parted from them. So we’re all coming too. Normally I would be thrilled at the idea of going to Nassau for the weekend, but—’

He never got to hear the but, although he imagined what it was, as the jet engines powered into life, the noise sending thoughts and words into the wind, and that much of the but had to do with him and that kiss. Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Though the blush on Lola’s cheeks wasn’t due to make-up, and the tone in her voice hadn’t been wistful and hopeful. It had been as wary as he felt, a warning almost.

Out on the tarmac a fierce draught blew Lola’s red curls round her face, and the dogs’ mouths opened and closed with apparent indignation at the racket, but Jake couldn’t hear anything over the engine din. He was beginning to realise that whatever plans he’d made were about to crash into oblivion. He was not going to get private time to discuss Cameron’s pregnancy. The attraction to her assistant was not abating any time soon. And a decent night’s sleep was clearly going to become a thing of the past.

In truth, Lola coming on this trip was the worst possible outcome he could imagine.

* * *

Cameron had fallen asleep in one of the sumptuous red and cream leather sofas on board, and Jake was doing a good impression of the same thing. However, as he’d been seated next to her, Lola could see that even though his eyes were closed, his breathing wasn’t rhythmic and slow. He was just pretending to be asleep.

He was pretending? Just so he didn’t have to talk to her? Charming.

And the problem was, even on a plane like this where seating was plentiful and generous, he was still too close for any kind of comfort. Worse, that ridiculous urge to reach out and touch him hovered around—to just lay her hand against his chest or his arm, or something. The other night had been a close-run thing, and she’d felt mortified when Cameron had demanded she accompany them on this trip when she’d have far preferred not to see Jake again. Somehow she would have to keep her distance. The man was no good for her plans.

After five and a half uncomfortable hours of dark silence, followed by awkward conversation whilst trying to contain three excitable puppies, they landed in Nassau. So much for private flying—not one sip of champagne had passed her lips; Miss Fontaine was on a clean diet so that meant everyone else was too.

The lunch had been delicious, though—a decent serving of fresh raw taco shells with spicy vegetables, salsa and cashew cheese. Slightly strange, but far better than any economy class, ever, even if just for the real knives and forks instead of plastic ones, and real linen napkins.

‘Well, that was very acceptable. I think I’m spoiled for flying ever again,’ she whispered to Jake, just for something to say as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the top of the steps, waiting to disembark. Cameron had insisted on going first, making a grand entrance for the waiting local paparazzi, while the staff hung around in her slipstream. ‘I don’t suppose you could convince the boss that drinking buckets and buckets of French champagne is very good for you? She’s got it into her head that alcohol is very bad, but I’d love a glass.’

He shook his head and frowned. ‘A cold beer would have been great, but...not for Cameron. She shouldn’t be drinking.’

‘Why not?’

He looked pensive. ‘Er...I suppose she has to maintain her figure for continuity reasons for the film. No alcohol for the foreseeable future.’

‘Spoilsport. I thought you might be on my side.’ But, then, she supposed, she’d pushed him away the other day so why should he do anything to please her? ‘Here goes. Down the steps... Now, don’t say anything as you walk by the cameras, just keep looking ahead. Oh, and could you take one of these, please? Peanut’s very wriggly again. I don’t think she likes flying.’

‘She’s definitely not one for cattle class, that’s for sure.’ Jake didn’t look enamoured about carrying a Chihuahua, and she had to admit that a beautiful, tall, toned man carrying a tiny dog did look funny. But he took it anyway, in one hand, and with the other he steadied her down the steps, a gentle touch on her elbow. For a second Lola felt as if she were the star, but the thrumming of her heart and the hot flush to her cheeks just highlighted the shy teenager inside her. Sometimes she didn’t know how Cameron dredged up all that confidence every day, every hour. It was exhausting.

The limo journey from the airport, under a cloudless bright blue sky, took them west past candy-coloured high-rise apartments and along palm-tree-lined roads, through a maze of canals towards Old Fort Bay and the many private residences dotted along the coastline. Beyond the fancy gates and majestic buildings Lola got a glimpse of white sandy beaches and a turquoise sea. Only the rich and famous bought homes here.

One day, she thought.

Wait... Oh, wow. Actually, today... The car turned right into a long gravel driveway, meandered through lush, verdant bushes and eventually came to a stop outside a large white colonial villa clothed in bright pink creeping bougainvillea. ‘Oh, my God. It’s gorgeous.’

Stunned, Lola bundled the dogs out of the car and gave instructions to the driver as Cameron disappeared into the house. This was way beyond anything she’d imagined.

‘I wasn’t expecting this. I thought we’d be at a resort or something with the others.’ Jake looked equally impressed as he carried luggage from the car boot to the door. He peered up at the magnificent building, then at the manicured front lawn and frowned. ‘Before we go in, Lola, can I ask you something?’

Uh-oh. If it was about the other night she’d just about die.

If it was about kissing again she would do that first, and then just about die. ‘Sure. What is it?’ It was as nonchalant as she could get, in between palpitations.

He pointed to the house. ‘What the hell has this all got to do with a space warrior odyssey?’

She breathed out, a flicker of disappointment subsumed by good old common sense. Then she laughed, because she was a damned fool to even think... He wasn’t the kind of guy to try again after rejection. ‘Oh. Well, it’s a flashback scene or a dream sequence, going back to pre-apocalyptic Earth, or something. But between you and me I think it’s just a good excuse for a jolly.’

He gave her a funny look. ‘A jolly what?’

‘A jolly. It means...it means a work thing that’s really just all about play.’

‘You Brits say the strangest things.’ But he was laughing and for a moment the air between them seemed less strained. Maybe, if they kept their conversations superficial, and maintained a decent distance, they could reach some sort of friendly equilibrium after all. Maybe he could be in one wing and she’d isolate herself in the opposite one. The place was certainly big enough. Yes, distance was the solution.

A young woman appeared at the door and explained in a melodic Bahamian accent that she was Tina, the housekeeper, and to please leave everything to her. ‘Miss Fontaine has requested sole use of the house. I have put you and the... Dr Jake...’ The woman peered up at Jake and smiled. For a moment Lola thought the housekeeper was going to curtsy or kiss him, or just old-fashioned swoon. ‘Good afternoon, Dr Jake. Welcome to The Haven. I hope you’ll be happy here.’

He shook her outstretched hand. ‘I’m sure I will. Thank you, Tina.’

‘Anything you want, just go right ahead and ask,’ Tina sighed.

Lola sighed too, but hers was more through irritation. That’s right, lady, keep right on looking. I’ve kissed that mouth.

A strange and breath-sapping spike of something lodged underneath Lola’s ribcage. Must have been the raw taco shells not agreeing with her, she decided, and nothing at all to do with a fierce possessive streak that scuttled through her. Jake was not her property and she would not be jealous of women looking at him like that. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, he was dashing and charming. So what? No big deal.

She’d switched off momentarily and hadn’t heard what the housekeeper had been saying, but as she tapped behind her across the marble floors through the palatial house, then out past a huge infinity pool, Lola realised that they were being taken to a different building.

‘In here, please, Miss Bennett.’ They’d stopped outside a smaller, single-storey villa, cream and white with another deep red bush growing up the side, a small picket-fenced garden and a wrought-iron outside table for two on a deck overlooking the ocean. It was more private and secluded than the grand villa. It was, in fact, like a cosy honeymoon retreat.

No. No flipping way. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She couldn’t...wouldn’t...shouldn’t be here with him. She should be in the big house, tending to her boss’s every need. Even that was preferable to being in a honeymoon hideaway with Jake. ‘I...er...there’s been a mistake...’

‘No. No mistake.’ Oblivious to Lola’s growing panic, the housekeeper was still chattering away. ‘The Lodge is for you and the doctor to share at Miss Fontaine’s insistence. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. There are interconnecting phones to the main house in the kitchen, the lounge and each bedroom. But Miss Fontaine said, please, to let her rest for a few hours. She will call if she needs anything.’

‘Okay.’ Lola blew out a big breath. This was so not what she’d had in mind for superficial and distant. But if there was one thing she knew about her boss it was that she wouldn’t change her mind once it was made up. She and Jake would be sharing. Period. ‘Well, first, I need to get the dogs some water and some shade. It’s too hot for them. I could take them for a walk around the grounds. I saw a lovely little shaded area they could play in back near the big house.’ Anything to distract her from the fact that she would be sharing living quarters with a god.

Tina smiled as she bent to give the dogs a stroke. ‘Aren’t they adorable? The beach out front is private, so they can run around there under the trees. I have a little dog of my own over in the staff annexe, they can come play any time. I can take them now, give you a break?’

‘Thanks, but the walk will do us good after being cooped up on a plane.’ Truthfully, it was just an excuse for some Jake-free time.

But the traitorous puppies pattered quietly into the cool lodge, obviously exhausted from their first-class travelling ordeal, found a plump cushion each on a white rattan sofa and fell asleep.

The housekeeper fussed around the light, bright house, showing them the modern kitchen facilities, the menu—because, yes, The Haven had its own chef—and the well-stocked pantry and fridge. Then she left, leaving them to decide who had which bedroom, and what the hell to do next.

And then there were two.

Lola glanced over at Jake, who was staring at the beach out of a huge picture window in the lounge. ‘Er...how shall I put this? Do you want to have a look at the bedrooms and decide where you want to sleep?’

Eyebrows rising, Jake grinned. ‘Now you’re talking.’

‘I didn’t mean... No. I meant—’

‘I was joking, Lola. Don’t look so worried. Take whichever room you want and I’ll have the other.’ He bent and unzipped his bag, grabbed something from it. ‘I’m going for a swim while I have the chance. Coming?’

She imagined him in board shorts. A naked chest. Bare skin. Soaking wet. And swallowed through a dry throat. ‘Er... No. I don’t want to leave these little guys on their own and I really do need to unpack. And Cameron might call...and I’m thirsty...’ And...she was rambling again.

‘Hey.’ He stepped closer. ‘Don’t worry, Lola. It’s all under control. How about I have a swim, then take over childcare while you go and cool off? A roster system?’

‘Oh, okay, that sounds great. Thanks. It is very hot. And I could do with a swim. Later, when you get back.’

The smile slipped. ‘Sure. And that way we need never be in the same room for longer than a few moments. Just at cross-over. That’s what you want? Right?’

Her heart began to hammer—he was very forthright when he wanted to be. Direct and to the point. She supposed he had to be in his line of work—couldn’t pussy-foot around a bad diagnosis. But it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She wasn’t used to people speaking their minds quite so openly. Besides, she didn’t know what she wanted in relation to their living arrangements. ‘I just think...in light of the other night...it would be better if our paths didn’t cross so much.’

‘Understood.’ He took a step away, then turned. ‘It was only a kiss, Lola. We can move on.’

‘Of course. Yes! Only a kiss! I’ve already moved on. No problem!’ As if she kissed people she’d just met all the time.

Only a kiss, yes. But a very nice one at that. And she didn’t kiss strangers. Ever. She didn’t kiss random men. She didn’t kiss men she thought were just okay. She kissed men she liked. And she liked Jake. That was a massive part of the problem. She liked him. Too much, it seemed. ‘You’d better go get changed then.’

While she wandered into the open-plan kitchen, he disappeared into a bathroom, returning moments later with a white towel looped round his shoulders, beach shorts slung low over slender hips. She tried very hard not to look, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. He was there, walking across the room, larger than life. Her gaze travelled upwards from his hips, past a smattering of dark hair, tanned washboard abs, a broad chest, to a smirking mouth.

For a few seconds she remembered the taste of him. The heat. And she clung to the kitchen countertop as the same heat shimmered through her. How the hell would she be able to stay here with that kind of reaction going on?

And when her eyes settled on his she knew that it was going to be almost impossible. There was humour there in his eyes, and teasing, and it fired an unwanted need in her core.

She dragged her eyes away, found a voice, albeit fractured. ‘Enjoy.’

‘You look like you just did.’ He winked. ‘See you later.’