After removing her helmet, he removed his own. With his feet firmly planted on the ground to maintain the bike’s balance, he reached for her arm and pulled her beside him. “Twilight is my favorite time to ride. I’m glad I got to share it with you.”
He imagined lifting her up to straddle him on the bike, leaning her back over the handlebars then kissing her deeply and suckling on her peaked nipples. Heat rushed to his groin and he hardened even more. Going by the look on her face, the lovely Lauren was as affected by their ride as he was. “Let’s go inside.”
When she stepped back and turned toward the restaurant, he pocketed the keys and adjusted himself. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Although he hadn’t spotted any paparazzi as he’d driven into the parking lot, these days, everyone had a camera at the ready. The last thing he needed was more front-page photos of himself sporting a hard-on.
He climbed off the bike and stowed both helmets away in the saddle bags. When he slipped on a pair of black-framed Oakleys, she gaped. “You wear glasses?”
“No. But for some reason, when I wear these, people don’t recognize me.”
“Like Clark Kent?”
Nic nodded. Although he was no Superman. If he could make time go backwards and change the past, he certainly would have used the ability back in eleventh grade.
The wonderful spicy scents of oyster sauce and fried noodles teased his senses as they stepped inside the Thai restaurant. Lauren closed her eyes and inhaled, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Look at the beautiful pergola.” She pointed to the ornately decorated wooden structure in the center of the room. Nic was amused. He’d had no idea what the thing was called, but he had to admit it did add to the garden-like atmosphere of the restaurant.
Nic led Lauren to a table in a back corner, separated from the others by a low wooden wall. Several colorfully decorated pots of exotic flowers and leafy green plants lined the top of the partition. From his seat, he had a perfect view of the door and the large windows, but was well hidden if any paparazzi showed up.
The hostess handed them menus and took their drink orders. A few minutes later, a waitress arrived with an MGD for him and a chardonnay for Lauren. They placed their orders: two-star cashew nut chicken for him and five-star pad thai for her. Another delicious surprise; he loved women who liked it spicy.
Lauren took a sip of her wine. “I want to ask you something, but maybe it’s not appropriate.”
Nic grinned as her cheeks colored. “The inappropriate questions are always the best.”
“At the photo shoot, didn’t it bother you when Vivian oiled you up?”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “I keep forgetting you haven’t been tainted by Hollywood yet. On set and for most photo shoots, there’re people who do my hair and makeup. If the costumes are complicated, they dress me. If I have to be bare-chested, I get waxed, painted, and oiled. And I won’t even mention the fans. Anyway, to make a long story short, wherever I go, people touch me.”
“If I ever get somewhere as a freelancer, I’ll keep that in mind. I want my clients to feel respected, not molested.”
“Not if, when.”
She smiled. “I’ve been wondering, why Nic The Lover?”
“I earned it.”
She blinked. He laughed. “It’s the English translation of my name. Lamoureux means The Lover.”
“So it’s not a reflection of your abilities… on screen… or off?”
“The name stuck because I acquired a certain reputation with the ladies… on screen… and off.” He loved teasing her but kept it gentle. She seemed somehow fragile and innocent, even when she was trying to get in his pants.
The waitress arrived with their entrées. As Lauren ate, he watched her. She was nothing like the women he usually dated. Okay, so this wasn’t a date. Whatever. She was intelligent and funny, reserved yet unpredictable. The sparkle in her ever-changing eyes made him smile, and he wanted to kiss the small heart-shaped freckle below her right ear.
What he’d grown up around and what attracted him were petite curvy women, women like Lauren. But his life was the opposite of hers. Whereas hers was simple and safe, his was chaotic and, now, dangerous. Even if she could see beyond the ugliness of his past, who knew what the stalker would do if they got into a serious relationship? He couldn’t afford to get involved with her.
Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to know more about the beautiful Lauren. “Did you grow up in Seattle?”
“I moved there when I got a scholarship to study photography at the Art Institute of Seattle.” She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her wine. “You’re from Montréal, right?”
Nic watched her lick a stray drop off her lips. He stared as she swallowed. He wanted to kiss her lips and lick the long expanse of her throat.
Christ
. He spread his legs a little wider under the table, easing the pressure against his fly. What had she asked him? He shook his head and tried to focus.
Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re not? Every article I’ve ever read about you said you were from Montréal.”
Nic slugged back his beer and forced himself to concentrate on her words and not on her mouth. “No. I am from Montréal.”
“Do you go back there often?”
He grimaced. “Whenever I can, which isn’t often enough. Vivian keeps me pretty busy.”
“Don’t you miss your family? I’ve only been here a few days, and I miss my son already.”
How could he answer her question without revealing anything? She leaned over the table and placed her hand on his. “That’s too personal. Please forget I asked.”
Great. She probably thought he was hiding something. Which he was, but he didn’t want her to know that. “There’s nothing to talk about. Hollywood is my only family.”
Using a redirection technique he’d picked up from Kaden, he changed the subject. “Tell me about your son.”
“Jason is eight going on eighteen.” Her face shone with pride, making his heart ache. He missed seeing that look on his own mother. “I think he’s your youngest fan. He’s seen all your kid-friendly movies and knows the dialogue by heart.”
“What’s his favorite?”
“He has two.” She counted them off on her beautifully shaped fingers. “One is
Lost Treasure
. He loves all the action. Last Halloween, he dressed up as your Jonathan Buckley character.” Her eyes twinkled as she laughed at the memory.
Leaning back in his chair, he took another sip of his beer and stretched his legs out under the table. “What’s the second?”
Nic admired the view as Lauren crossed her legs. His heart thudded in his chest when he saw her feet again. The thought of Lauren in nothing but those black leather stiletto boots and a smile was enough to kill him.
“His second favorite is also my favorite.” She raised her eyebrows.
Still slightly dazed, he mentally shook himself and accepted her challenge. “
Days of Fire
.”
She snorted. “Not even close.” When he frowned, she added, “But I liked that one too.”
He was very proud of the work he’d done on that film. “Okay, so which one is it?”
“
Small Town Blues
.”
“Why?” In
Small Town Blues
, he played a father in a rural town whose farm is bought out by a large dairy corporation, prompting the family to move to the big city to start a new life. It was a musical with lots of singing and dancing, and since he wasn’t particularly talented at either, the movie had bombed in theaters and gone straight to DVD.
She picked up her napkin and started twisting it between her fingers. “The situation of the family in the film is like ours. They’re starting a new life too, and it brings him hope that someday we’ll be happy.”
He pulled his feet in and leaned forward to ask in a low voice, “When you lent me the dog tags, yesterday, you mentioned your husband…”
“…died five years ago,” she finished, lowering her eyes. “Todd worked on a medevac team in Afghanistan, rescuing downed soldiers. Until insurgents with RPGs shot down their helicopter. There were no survivors.”
Her husband had died a hero, protecting his country, whereas Nic had destroyed his family. She would be disgusted if she ever found out.
Nic took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. Too many good men are dying in that war. It must have been very difficult.”
She nodded. “Jason was only three and didn’t really understand. Each time he asked me, ‘When’s Daddy coming home?’ in his little baby voice, my heart broke all over again.” Her expression suddenly brightened, and she looked up, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “But whenever we watch
Small Town Blues
, he’s happy again.”
He answered with a smile of his own. It always surprised him how much his movies affected people, people he didn’t even know.
Mick Jagger’s
She’s the Boss
blared out, startling both of them. Grinning sheepishly, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, it’s Vivian.” He answered the call.
“Darling. I’m here, in your room, and you are not.”
Uh-oh
. He knew that tone very well. “I went out to get some dinner.”
“When we spoke this afternoon, I told you I’d see you tonight.”
“Hey, sorry about the mix-up. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Never mind, we have something more important to discuss. Fifteen minutes ago, our friend posted another sighting on CelebrityStalker. It says you’re at… what was it? Here it is. Thailand Delight on Stanley Street. Is that where you are?”
Nic met Lauren’s gaze. “Yes, but I didn’t tell anyone.” A sudden pinch in his palm made him relax his death grip on the phone.
How did NicsBitch know where he was?
To protect Lauren from the paparazzi, he’d kept his plans for the evening secret from everyone, including Vivian. The bike belonged to a friend and couldn’t be traced back to him. The clothes he wore were pretty much the opposite of his usual Nic The Lover style. And, with the helmets, he and Lauren should have been incognito. He leaned forward so he could see around Lauren and checked the entrance to the restaurant, including what he could see of the parking lot through the front windows.
“I’d suggest you get your dinner to go and leave as quickly as possible. Let me know when you’re back in your room.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He flipped his phone closed and put it back in his pocket. This was bad. If the paparazzi showed up, Lauren would be angry. But he didn’t want to leave before they had a chance to discuss the photo shoot. Could he risk staying a while longer?
Lauren’s brows furrowed. “Do we need to leave?”
“It’s nothing.” He’d keep an eye out for the paparazzi and sneak her out through the kitchen if they showed up.
“I have an idea for a photo shoot,” she began as he picked up his fork and took another bite of chicken. “I read somewhere that you like hockey.”
He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I have season tickets for the Los Angeles Kings, and I catch as many Montréal Canadiens games on TV as I can.” He’d also been on the high-school hockey team back in Chicago. Even though he’d only been a junior at the time, the college scouts had already started showing an interest in him. And the school newspaper often printed funny action shots of him—preparing a slap shot, celebrating a goal, taking a tumble.
He’d had such a crush on the cute photographer from the school paper. Chuckling ruefully, he remembered how many times he’d purposely taken a fall so she’d take a picture of him. He seemed to have a thing for cute photographers named Lauren.
Just as he was about to ask Lauren where she’d gone to high school, a glint in the parking lot caught his attention. He leaned sideways to get a better view. Only a few people remained in the restaurant and the parking lot stood nearly empty. Shaking his head at his overactive imagination, he returned his attention to Lauren.
She turned to look over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
“I thought I saw something outside.” He slumped back against his chair. At this point, he couldn’t decide what would be worse—a single stalker showing up or an entire army of paparazzi. Both had the potential to ruin his night. “So, what’s your idea?”
“I want do the next part of the shoot at an arena.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “We’d do a few outfit changes and get some shots of you in and out of the goal. Yesterday’s shoot was posed and serious. With the arena shots, I want to capture your joy and spontaneity.”
She picked up the paper napkin beside her plate and proceeded to shred it into tiny pieces. He reached forward and clasped her wrist. “
Chérie
, don’t be nervous. I trust your instincts. The results will be perfect.”
“I’m worried Vivian will reject hockey photos because they aren’t sexy.”
Captivated, Nic watched her nibble her lower lip and had to stifle a groan as heat arrowed straight to his groin.
Lauren looked up. “She said the shots had to be sexy, not artistic. Magazines want photos that will get women to pick up their latest issue at the checkout counter in local grocery stores. I think the hockey photos could be both artistic and sexy, and women would want to buy the magazines so they could take the photos home and enjoy them in privacy.”
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of women lovingly gazing at his photos, tracing their fingers over his jaw, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his… The image of Lauren doing just that flashed through his mind, arousing him further. Nic shifted uncomfortably. Next time he saw Lauren, he’d have to wear looser pants.
“Why does that make you smile?” she asked as she took a sip of her wine.
“You have passion and talent.” A frown continued to mar her otherwise smooth forehead, so he tried another angle. “Yesterday, during the photo shoot, could you envision how the photos would turn out?” She nodded. “And they turned out great, didn’t they?”
She acknowledged his words with a quick jerk of her head. “I need to trust myself.” Lauren cleared her throat and ducked her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to have a meltdown.”
Was she embarrassed to share her concerns because of who he was? Celebrities were no one special. He should know. “You should have seen me the first time I went on stage. I had the role of Joseph in the school Christmas play. Half-way through, my nerves got the better of me. I ran offstage and threw up in the boys’ bathroom. Poor Mary had to deal with the three wise men alone.”