Читать книгу Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs - Louisa George - Страница 18

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE AIR WAS cooler when she woke, alone on the sofa, her body contorted, her limbs still limp, her head aching just a little. Her mouth was dry. And she was sure she was supposed to be doing something important, but all she could remember was lying in Jake’s heat and how safe she’d felt.

It was going dark too. Almost six o’clock.

She’d been asleep for hours, way too long.

Whoa, shoot. She was supposed to have phoned Evelyn Rice’s office and organised some clothes. And the beauty therapist...damn, damn, damn.

Her head was clearing now, very quickly. Unfortunately. There was no soft-focus buzz to make the neglect of her duties appear in any way warm and fuzzy. She reached for her phone.

But it was gone. As was her script. She jumped to her feet. Wobbled a little on her bad leg. Righted herself. What in hell had she been thinking, sleeping for so long as if she hadn’t a care in the world? What had he given her for the pain that had wiped her brain of any sense? ‘Jake? Jake?’

He wasn’t in the kitchen, bedrooms...the bathrooms were empty. She started to wander outside, but met him and the dogs in the hallway. He’d changed out of beach clothes and wore a navy collared T-shirt that clung interestingly to his biceps, and tan shorts that made a perfect gift of his backside. And he gripped three leads tightly in his fist. ‘Hey, you’re awake. Get down, Butter or Jelly, or whoever you are. Stop fussing. We’ve been for a walk. I think Tina was getting just a little tired of them. Cameron’s still on set.’

Lola was still a little drowsy, but her head was no longer filled with mush. She bent to stroke the dogs, gave them all the kisses they needed, then stood. Wobbled a little. ‘Why did you let me sleep so long?’

Jake held her arms at her sides and looked her up and down, steadied her. ‘You needed it. Your body told you what it needed. You’ve been working hard, you were in shock...’

‘I was drugged.’

He laughed. ‘Lightweight. Seriously, they weren’t even strong. How’re you feeling? You seem to be walking okay.’

She peered down at her leg. It was still red and swollen, but not as raw as it had been. The pain had definitely subsided and whatever cream he’d put on had helped reduce the itch. Reduce, not obliterate. ‘Better. But I haven’t time to think about that. I need to phone Evelyn Rice and arrange some clothes for tomorrow. But, damn, she’s probably left already, and I only have the workshop number.’

‘No need.’ He walked her back through to the kitchen and let the dogs off their leads, and after they’d scoffed some biscuits they scampered through the open-plan space to the lounge area, climbed onto their favourite rattan sofa and began preening. Just like their ‘mother’.

Talking of which... ‘But—I have to—Cameron asked me—’

‘Wait.’ Jake opened the fridge, lifted out a bottle and filled a glass with iced water then handed it to Lola. ‘Drink this. Okay, I’ve already phoned Miss Rice. It’s all sorted.’

‘You called her? Oh, my God, what on earth did you say?’ This was it. She was fired. Gone. Back to London. Regretting everything...except the part where she’d kissed Jake. Twice.

Whatever, she was doomed.

He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. ‘I explained what the issue was, and that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. She took pity on me. She was delighted Cameron wanted to sample her clothes and we guessed her size. She’s sending an assortment of this season’s garments over tonight, different sizes just in case.’

Lola tiptoed to kiss his cheek, but thought better of it. The last time she’d kissed him things had gone downhill pretty quickly. ‘Great, thanks. That’s brilliant. You are brilliant.’

‘I know.’

‘And very modest too. So the only other major thing I need to do today is arrange a beautician for tomorrow evening for before the dinner.’

This time he gave her a very satisfied look. ‘Done.’

‘What?’ He was a revelation.

‘Evelyn recommended someone. I called, she’s fitting Cameron in. In fact, she’s rearranged her whole day for that divine woman. Her words, not mine.’

This time she did give him a quick peck on the cheek and neither of them seemed to mind. ‘Double brilliant. Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.’

‘I know.’

‘But what I don’t understand is why.’ To think that only a few days ago she’d never even met the man, and now he was doing her job for her, tending to her leg. And not trying to sleep with her... Maybe he was just an altogether good guy.

Apart from not trying to sleep with her...

‘To save your ass. The last thing you needed was to make a drug-slurred call to a top designer. Not a great look. Now...’ He took her hand and walked her out to the deck. In the distance someone was playing soca music, light and lyrical. ‘Sit down. Chef is sending dinner over in ten minutes. Watch the sunset...or something. I’ll just check on the dogs.’

‘Oh. Wow. Yes.’ She gazed out and wondered whether the drugs were having an effect on her vision—because the view was breathtaking. It looked like someone had taken a paintbrush and daubed the brightest colours they could find right across the horizon.

The sky met the ocean in a deep molten orange that reflected across the water. A bright yellow globe dipped into the sea and shimmered almost golden. To her left, palm trees swayed in silhouette, black against the ombre haze. And there, just in front of her, were two large torches, flames flickering in the gentle breeze, and a table set for two with candles and white linen.

Her phone was there, too, next to her script. The pages were held down with pebbles at the place where he’d stopped reading. The End.

All this had happened while she’d been asleep?

‘The more time I spend here the more impressed I am.’ He pulled out a chair and indicated for her to sit. ‘The dogs are fine. Asleep. Cameron’s busy. Sit down.’

‘You read my script?’ She sat. Heat burnt her cheeks. She might as well have been naked in front of him. Worse. What could be worse than laying open her naked self to him?

Ah, yes. Laying open her heart. That was something she didn’t want to do. Flirting and fun were one thing, but she didn’t need him to know about the clutch of her heart when she’d kissed him. She didn’t want him to know how much she admired him. Some things she had to keep to herself to protect her heart from the fallout.

He sat opposite her and was about to speak when the chef arrived with a tray of food. Lobster, crab, potatoes, fruit. An amazing array of delicious local delicacies. She turned down wine and stuck to water, not wanting to mix the painkillers with alcohol and befuddle her head even more.

After a couple of mouthfuls and uninhibited groans of delight at the fresh flavours, he put his knife and fork down.

‘So, yes, I did read your script.’ He was unabashed, as if reading her words hadn’t been like peering into her soul.

‘And?’

‘It’s excellent. Really, I think you should do something with it.’ He drank some rosé wine, took up his cutlery again. ‘But what do I know? I’m a doctor. You need an expert opinion, not mine. Show it to Cameron, she’s an expert on tap.’

Lola almost choked on her lobster. ‘I couldn’t do that. I’d rather die than press it on her and beg her to read it. Believe me, she wouldn’t anyway, she has far too much to do. She doesn’t even know I write.’

‘Well, she should. That story deserves a home. You’re right, it is surprisingly funny. Although I shouldn’t be surprised—it’s just an extension of you. With all the things you are—funny, smart, witty, brave.’

‘Wow. Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She felt a surge of confidence. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever believe it’s ready to go out into the big wide world.’

‘Email it to your dad.’

This time she felt the thuds in her heart go on and on at the mention of her dad. But she wasn’t going to have that conversation with Jake. ‘Yeah...maybe.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Pushy.’

His tone got serious. ‘What are you waiting for? You want a career in this? Yes? You’ve given up everything to come out here for this?’ He stabbed his finger at the paper on the table. ‘But you’re still at first base. You won’t get on if you don’t do things. You know the old saying—if you want something to work for you, you have to make it work. Right?’

‘Right.’ She was almost carried along with his enthusiasm. Sure, she was dedicated, ambitious, hard-working...but putting herself out there? There was too much at stake for her right now. He was talking about things he had no knowledge of. ‘Are you this demanding on everyone?’

‘Usually just myself.’

‘Why?’

He looked down at his food. ‘We work hard... Look, my parents didn’t have much, but they taught me that you can achieve anything if you’re prepared to put the hours in. Now, about that script...’

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d changed the subject back to her as soon as he could. Talking about his family clearly wasn’t a favourite thing of his. Well, snap to that. ‘Yes. Okay. I’ll get it out there as soon as I can.’

‘Send a copy to me too so I can take another look at the medical scenes. Soup them up a bit. You’re in a prime position to change your life, Lola.’

‘Yes, yes, I am.’ He was good at this—voicing the feelings she’d arrived with in LA. ‘Have you always been this in control of your own life? Planning world domination?’

He grinned. ‘Like I said, my career’s fine, thanks. Going right according to plan. No need to analyse that any further.’

‘So what do you do when you’re not working?’

‘Like that happens.’

‘You must do something. You can’t work all the time.’ At his shrug she realised he really, truly, probably did. ‘You don’t have hobbies?’

‘I work out. Hike. Surf, if I get a chance. Haven’t done that for a while. I’ve been building my practice—these things don’t just happen. I—well, I work, Lola. Although sometimes to the detriment of other things—I understand that. You have to make sacrifices.’ It was almost as if he’d just realised that he didn’t do anything else—as if the realisation was finally seeping into his brain, and what exactly that meant for his life. Then he smiled. ‘Oh, and I juggle, but that’s more for relaxation. Well, I used to—it’s been a while. Years, actually. Probably a decade, if I’m honest. So, okay, I admit I’m a sad case of a workaholic—I do all the things I tell my juniors not to do. But I have to work, no one’s going to carry me the rest of my life. Where I end up is up to me. No one else.’

And she wondered what he meant by that—but sensed he was reluctant to talk about it, so she tried to keep things light. ‘So you juggle, like with the oranges earlier? That’s a strange thing to do.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Unusual, yes. Strange—not so. It’s very therapeutic, especially if your brain’s stuck in one thing and you want to move on. I was part of a study when I was at med school. We were testing whether learning a new skill could promote white and grey matter growth in the brain. It does, by the way. It also helps you focus and relax, helps posture and co-ordination...and usually makes people smile.’

‘I might have known it would have some connection to work.’

‘Of course. Plus, it’s a great babe magnet.’

She laughed. ‘Why? How?’

‘That’s my secret.’

‘Tell me?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, then, teach me?’

‘Sure. Why not?’ Standing, he took hold of her arm and they went inside to the kitchen. He picked up two oranges from the fruit bowl, one in each hand, and threw them up in the air. She was mesmerised by the fluidity of his movements, the flex of his hands, the primed, yet relaxed stance. His smile. She was mesmerised by him.

He caught the oranges in one hand, held one out to her. ‘Start like this. Just up and down. That’s right. Now, try two. Throw from one hand to the other in an arc shape. Copy me.’

She did as she was told and copied him as he threw first one orange, then added in another so they crossed in mid throw. ‘Easy!’

‘Okay... Now try using your non-dominant hand. That’s the tricky bit.’

‘Oops.’ One orange landed on the floor in a splat.

He laughed. ‘Not quite ready for flames yet...’

‘You juggle with fire?’

‘I have. I can. Try it like this.’ He stood behind her and captured her between his arms, his hands cupping hers as they threw the oranges into the air. She leaned against him and he held her weight, his breath coming easily against her neck. She could feel the hard wall of his chest against her back, could smell his scent, and she suddenly felt more alive and more clear-headed than she had all day.

Arousal snaked up her spine, through her veins. Her heart began to beat faster. She wanted to turn around and press herself against him, to feel him naked against her. Her hands shook as she held the oranges. His words were in her ear, on her neck, in her hair. ‘Lola...your turn now, on your own. I’ll stay here ready to catch them if you drop them.’

‘I think I’m getting the hang...’ She didn’t finish. Couldn’t finish because his hands were in no place to catch any falling citrus fruit. They had circled her waist and he was turning her round.

As she completed the turn she stared straight into those black pupils glittering with need. The air stilled around them, heavy with intent, like his eyes. ‘God, Lola...’

‘Yes?’ But she didn’t hear his answer, if indeed he answered at all, because his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. This wasn’t the kind of kiss they’d shared before. This wasn’t gentle or coaxing; this was pure, raw need. And she kissed him back just as hard, the oranges spinning across the floor as she dropped them to spike her fingers into his hair, to pull him closer, and ever closer.

* * *

There was only so much a guy could resist.

He’d thought earlier he was a damned saint for walking away from her—twice. But now he was going to hell and he outright didn’t care.

Because having Lola Bennett was the only thing he’d had on his mind all damned day. All damned week, if he was honest, and if he didn’t act on this he was going to implode. A mist clouded his brain as he pulled her harder to him. All he could see was Lola, all he could breathe, smell, taste was her. Nothing else mattered. Just this. And her. She mattered.

He felt her curves beneath his hands, spoke against her lips. ‘Forget what I said earlier. I was an idiot. I want you, Lola. I want you, right here.’

‘Finally. You know, I was starting to get a complex. One minute you wanted me, the next...not so much.’

‘I always wanted you. I was trying to protect you.’

He felt her body stiffen. She took a step back. ‘Whoa, mister, I don’t need protecting. I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me today, but I can manage my life just fine on my own.’

‘Hmm—I know, but you can’t kiss on your own.’ He licked behind her ear, felt her soften a little. ‘Can’t do this on your own. Right?’

‘Good point.’ She giggled—a throaty, dirty sound that stoked even more fury through his veins. Her hands were on his T-shirt, dragging it up over his head. ‘Your bedroom? Or mine?’

‘Not sure we’ll make it that far. Next time maybe. Beds are overrated.’ Right now the kitchen table looked enticing. So did the floor. He was tearing at her clothes, nipping along her throat, en route to tasting those exquisite breasts again. Luckily she still had the bikini on underneath her T-shirt and shorts—two quick tugs and she’d be naked.

Her hand stilled on his. ‘Are you sure about this, Jake. I mean, really sure?’

‘Do you have to ask?’

‘Ya think? With your track record? I’m not going to start something if you’re just going to stop and leave me frustrated. I’m over that.’

‘Come with me. Now.’ There weren’t words enough to tell her how sure he was. He slipped his hands under her legs and picked her up, carried her to the closest soft horizontal surface he could find. One of the couches in the lounge. The flickering torchlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating her full beauty. God, she was more beautiful than a hundred Hollywood actresses. More real. Just more. So much more.

Careful of her leg, he straddled her and slammed his mouth over hers, drank her in, fed on her kisses like a starving man. Her skin was soft, her kisses hot, her moans like licks of heat piercing him. There was nothing he could do to stop this. Nothing he wanted to do more.

She raked her hands across his chest, ran her fingers over his belly towards his belt. He grabbed her hand. ‘Not so fast. I want to taste you first...’

She started to undo the buckle. ‘But—’

His grip tightened. ‘Look here, Miss Independent...relax. Let me do something for you.’

‘You’ve done that all day, looked after me. Now it’s your turn. I want to show you my gratitude.’

‘Lola,’ he growled in her ear. ‘I get that you want to be your own woman—but this? This is about the two of us. I want to make you feel so damned good. You first...’

She pouted and pretended to think about that option for all of a nanosecond. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, okay...if you insist.’

‘I do.’ His mouth was on her throat, making a soft trail to her breasts. He flicked off her bikini and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Underneath him she bucked against his hardness, a soft purr coming from her throat. Her hands fisted his hair, yanking with every lick on her nipple. ‘You taste so good.’

Then things got serious as he made a slow trail down her belly, slipped off her shorts and bikini bottom. ‘You have no idea how you make me feel, Lola.’

‘Oh, I can guess. I feel it too.’ Her palm covered him over his pants and he gasped, desperate for her to free him from the restrictive fabric. But he’d have to wait.

She gave him a slow sexy smile that glittered in her eyes, the connection deepening, the connection very real. Tangible. A fist round his heart. Damn, but he’d never felt like this about a woman before—as if there’d been something he hadn’t known he’d been looking for, and now he’d found it. Like finding the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Complete.

And it should have scared him. Hell, it did, more than anything. He’d been fine before he’d met her—he’d already felt complete, goddammit. He didn’t need a woman to make him more whole...but it also spurred him on.

He nudged her thighs apart and dipped his head, tasting the hot slickness of her as she rocked against him, her moan intensifying, urging him on. She was so wet as he stroked his tongue across that tight nub of flesh, as he gripped her backside and trapped her in place. He could sense her orgasm mounting with the tightened grasp, the sob of delight. Each moan of hers elicited a groan from him. God, he needed to be inside her.

When she shuddered he thought he might explode. When she called out his name he thought he’d die.

But she was pulling him up, reaching for his zip, pushing down his shorts, finally freeing him from all constraints. He had to be inside her. To feel her around him, to feel her climax against him. ‘Condom...’

‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’

He reached down to his shorts, pulled out the packet, sheathed in record time. And then she was taking control, wrapping her hand around his thickness, making him gasp.

He looked down the length of her, saw the redness of her leg... ‘Wait...I don’t want to hurt you.’

She gave him a smile that almost broke his heart in two. ‘It’s okay. You won’t hurt me. I promise. Jake...I want you so much. I want you.’

He reached and bent her leg slowly so there’d be no danger of hurting her. Then she was pulling him into her, deep into her core, the silky softness wrapping around him, her muscles gripping him in a sweet tightness. His mouth covered hers in a desperate kiss, his gaze never leaving hers—the truth spinning between them, faster, mesmerising, intoxicating. If there was a heaven, this was it.

She rocked with his rhythm, urging him harder, faster, calling his name until he could take no more. Pleasure, need and hunger slammed into him, and he groaned out her name, caught the first shudders of her release. Felt the thin ethereal threads that connected them tighten. Then and only then did he finally let go.