Читать книгу What the Paparazzi Didn't See - Nicola Marsh - Страница 9

TWO

LIZA LITHGOW’S STYLE TIPS

FOR MAXIMUM WAG WOW IMPACT

The Lips

For the height of sophistication and glam wow, the perfect pout is where it’s at.

Having a palette of colours for various looks is essential.

Co-ordinate colour with outfits.

Go bold with fire engine red for an awards ceremony or pastel pink for the season opener.

Keep lips soft; that means no lip liner!

For a fabulous femme fatale pout, preparation is key.

1 Gently exfoliate lips with a soft-bristled toothbrush.

2 Moisturize with a specialized lip balm.

3 Use a lip-fix cream which prevents colour bleeding.

4 Apply lipstick once. Blot with tissue. Re-apply.

For a subtle look, pat lipstick on with a fingertip.

For bold lips, apply with a lip brush.

Blot.

Reapply.

If you want a plump pout without the injections, try lipsticks with inbuilt ‘plumpers’. These innovative ingredients are proven to increase lip volume by forty percent. Amazing! They also hydrate and restore collagen over time.

A dab of gloss in the middle of the lower lip is a subtle touch that adds real wow!

Liza couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out on a date.

One that hadn’t been orchestrated as some huge PR stunt, that was. She’d attended the Logies, Arias and Brownlow Medal galas on the arms of a TV personality, a rock star and an up-and-coming footballer respectively. And on each occasion had been bored witless within the first ten minutes.

So what was it about this guy that had her laughing and fluffing her words and interested in spending some one-on-one time with him?

She’d made her required appearance at the book launch; she should head home, get out of this designer dress she’d been begged to wear and curl up with her e-reader and the latest juicy romance.

Instead, she watched him place their martini orders, shocked she didn’t know his name, thrilled she didn’t particularly care.

She never had fun or did anything on a whim. Ever.

Her life for the last ten years since her mum had absconded when she was eighteen and left Cindy in her care had been about weighing decisions carefully to see how they would affect her younger sister.

Everything revolved around Cindy and while Liza never begrudged her sis anything, knowing tonight would be the last time she’d have to put on her fake face had lifted a weight from her shoulders.

She could be herself from now on and Mr Martini had been in the right place at the right time. More than that, he’d intrigued her, and she couldn’t say that about many men.

She’d watched him morph from uptight and judgemental to cool and a little goofy, with a hint of underlying sexiness that made her long-neglected hormones sit up and howl.

When was the last time she’d had sex? Probably not since she was with Jimmy, because while Henri had paid for her arm-candy status for a year, she wouldn’t go that far as part of their deal.

And if she couldn’t remember exactly, it meant it had probably been during the good period with Jimmy, which hadn’t been the last year of their relationship. The year he’d progressively withdrawn, establishing emotional distance before the final break.

Her mum had done the same over the years. In both cases, their abandonment hadn’t come as any great surprise but had hurt all the same. Hurt deeply.

But tonight wasn’t the time to dwell on her issues. Tonight was perfect for something else entirely.

She did a quick mental calculation.... Could it really have been four years since she’d been with a guy?

Maybe that explained her irrational urge to push the limits with Mr Martini. He’d be ideal for a celebratory fling, a little fun on a night where she felt like dancing down Swanston Street with her arms in the air.

Not that she’d had a one-night stand before but the way she was feeling right now? Edgy. Dangerous. A little outrageous. It could very well be a first tonight.

He stalked towards her, his ebony suit highlighting lean legs, broad shoulders, impressive chest, and she squirmed a little.

What would it be like to explore beneath that suit? To feel the warmth of a man’s skin next to hers? The heat of passion? The yearning to lose herself in pleasure?

Cindy was her world and Liza never regretted assuming responsibility for full-time care, but it was at times like this she wished deep down for something she’d never have: a guy to come home to, a guy to warm her bed, a guy who wouldn’t abandon her when the going got tough.

‘You must really have a hankering for a martini,’ he said, taking a seat next to her, far too close as a few synapses zinged with the need to touch him.

‘Why?’

‘Because you have an odd look on your face, like you want it real bad.’

Uh-oh. He could see her desperation? Not good.

‘I’m thirsty,’ she blurted, wishing the waitress would hurry up and deliver their damn drinks so she wouldn’t have to stare into his knowing dark eyes.

‘And I’m curious.’

That made two of them. She was curious as to why she’d agreed to this and why the hell she wanted him to be part of her freedom celebration tonight.

‘How could two intelligent people like us, about to having a scintillating conversation, still be strangers?’

‘Not anymore.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘Liza Lithgow.’

‘Wade Urquart. Pleased to meet you.’

As his palm touched hers and his fingers curled around her hand, Liza could’ve sworn every sane reason why she shouldn’t indulge in a night of incredible sex with this guy melted clean away.

‘Your name sounds familiar.’ He frowned, releasing her hand after lingering too long. She wasn’t complaining.

‘I’m hoping the next words out of your mouth aren’t, “Haven’t we met some place before?”’

He laughed. ‘No need for glib lines. You’re here, aren’t you?’

‘True.’

And with the dim lighting, the smooth jazz spilling softly from discreet speakers behind them and a gorgeous guy eyeing her speculatively, she was right where she wanted to be.

For tonight. Tonight, she was in the mood for celebrating. Shedding her old life felt amazing.

‘Why did you agree to have a drink with me?’ The waitress deposited their drinks and he raised a martini glass in her direction. ‘You seemed to be in your element at that party.’

‘Haven’t you ever faked it?’ She clinked her glass to his. ‘What you see isn’t always what you get.’

He stared at her over the rim of his glass, a slight groove between his brows. ‘Have to say, you’re an intriguing woman, and I can’t figure you out.’

She shrugged. ‘What’s to figure out? We’re two people who wanted to escape that party; we’re having a drink, end of story.’

‘Is it?’

His gaze locked on hers, potent and smouldering, and her breath hitched.

She took a sip of her martini, needing the alcohol to loosen her tightened vocal cords. ‘You’re expecting an epilogue?’

‘A guy can always live in hope,’ he said, downing his martini and placing the glass on the table in front of them. ‘Honestly? I’ve had a crappy six months, my dad’s business is under threat and I haven’t met anyone as captivating as you in a long time. So excuse me if I don’t BS you.’

Liza valued honesty. Most people didn’t know the meaning of the word. How many times had friends, who’d hung around under the misguidance she’d take them places because of her lifestyle, vanished when they’d learned she had a disabled sister?

Stupid morons acted as if cerebral palsy were catchy. And they didn’t stay to be educated either.

Even Jimmy had been awkward and stilted around Cindy, despite Liza explaining cerebral palsy was a physical disability caused by injury to the brain before birth.

Cindy had a milder form, with only the left side of her body affected by the debilitating spasticity that left her hand, elbow, hip and knee clawed, and some speech problems. She had been lucky in escaping ataxic—uncontrolled—movements and athetosis, the writhing movements.

Sure, the spasticity in Cindy’s elbow, wrist and fingers made daily tasks like eating, dressing, writing and manipulating objects difficult, but they’d learned to cope best they could. Countless occupational therapy sessions had seen to that. And the ongoing physiotherapy to prevent deforming contractures made Liza eternally grateful for the job she’d had for the last few years.

After tonight, not anymore.

Having Wade clearly articulate what he wanted impressed her. Scared the bejeebies out of her, but definitely impressed her.

‘Want to talk about the crappy six months or the business?’

‘Hell no,’ he said, loosening the knot on his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to reveal a hint of deliciously tempting tanned skin. ‘The only reason I’m in Melbourne is to sort all that stuff out, but considering I arrived this morning it can wait ’til tomorrow.’

‘Then why show up at the party at all?’

‘Because sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to.’

His frown reappeared and she had a feeling he did a lot of that. He’d been frowning when she’d first seen him on the balcony, deep in thought, incredibly serious. It was what had made her approach him. Because she used to look like that all the time when she didn’t have her game face on, the one she donned along with her make-up before a public appearance.

She’d frowned a lot over the years, worrying about Cindy. About her care long term should anything happen to her, about her sister’s health, about her financial security.

The latter had driven her to go to great lengths. Heck, she’d tolerated posing as Henri Jaillet’s girlfriend for twelve months when most people couldn’t stand longer than a few minutes in the egotistical soccer star’s presence.

But those days were over. She’d invested wisely over the years and tomorrow, when her investment matured, financial security would give her the peace of mind she needed to get more carer help, leaving her more time to sort out her own future.

Why wait until tomorrow?

The thought wasn’t exactly out of left field. She wouldn’t be sitting here if she hadn’t already contemplated celebrating her newfound freedom tonight.

But how did this work? She couldn’t take Wade home; she’d never expose Cindy to that unless the guy meant something to her. Even Jimmy had hardly visited and she’d known him since high school.

Though that had been more due to Jimmy’s unease around Cindy than not wanting to see her. She hadn’t pushed the issue with him, content to protect Cindy from any vibes she might pick up from Jimmy. But it had hurt, deep down, that her boyfriend wasn’t more open-minded and didn’t care enough about her to accept Cindy as part of the package while they dated.

‘Another drink?’

She shook her head. ‘No thanks. After the champers I had upstairs, any more of this and who knows what I’ll do?’

‘In that case, maybe I should insist you try every martini mixer on the menu?’

She smiled, glad his frown had disappeared, but a little intimidated by his stare, the probing stare that insisted there was intention behind his teasing quips.

‘You could try, but you’d have to carry me out of here.’

‘Not a problem. I have a suite upstairs.’ He winked. ‘You could recover up there.’

Guess that answered Liza’s question about how she’d go about celebrating with Wade.

The old Liza would’ve laughed off his flirtation and changed the subject.

The new Liza who wanted to kick up her heels for the first time in for ever? Surely she couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this?

‘Is that an invitation or a proposition?’

‘Both,’ he said, capturing her hand between his, the unexpected contact sending a buzz shooting up her arm. ‘Am I in the habit of picking up women I barely know at parties? No. Do I invite them back to my place? Rarely.’

He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles, making her yearn for more. ‘Am I hoping you’ll say yes to spending the night with me? Absolutely.’

Liza had a decision to make.

Do the sensible thing, the responsible thing, as she’d done her whole life.

Or celebrate her new life, starting now.

‘Do I accept offers to spend the night from guys? No.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Have I had a one-night stand before? Never.’ She slid her hand out of his. ‘Do I want to spend tonight with you?’

She took a steadying breath and laid her hand on his thigh. ‘Absolutely.’