He frowned, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “What exactly did you expect?”
“I expected to walk out into a busy arrivals hall, find the exit and then catch a shuttle to my hostel.”
He snorted. “Daisy said you were naive.” But he’d pay to remember she was also cold and calculating.
“Did she?” Holly could well imagine what other lies her drama queen sister had fed him. It wasn’t like they’d actually been a major part of each other’s lives since Daisy had moved to Tinseltown at twenty-one. She shouldn’t care, but something about this man—she didn’t even know his name—made her want to stand up for herself. Still, he’d made it pretty clear he and Daisy had been close. She didn’t think he’d take it kindly if she launched into her side of their sordid sibling rivalry.
Not wanting him to actually answer her question, she rushed in with another. “I guess you know who I am. What’s your name?” She hoped he’d tell her a lot more, like why he’d decided to meet her at the airport in the first place.
But she was disappointed.
“Nate. Nate Devlin.” Short, sharp and to the point—she got the impression he was like that in action as well as name. For some bizarre reason it fascinated her.
“Well, pleased to meet you, Nate. I won’t offer you my hand since you’re driving.” As soon as the words were out she cursed their futility, but this situation was so unnerving, she wanted to fill the uncomfortable silence with meaningless small talk. Anything to pass the time until she could escape into her hostel, find a bed and crash for a couple of hours.
She made the mistake of looking at him again and caught the bemused rise of his eyebrows. Or was it disdain? She wished he’d say something. Anything.
But perhaps hoping he’d return the “pleasure” was a bit much.
Although never in the popular crowd at school and not a person who had a mammoth circle of friends, Holly mostly got on well with people and she’d certainly never come across someone who had disliked her on sight the way Nate seemed to. It wasn’t fair that, even from the grave, Daisy was orchestrating the path of her life.
She turned back to the window and tried to take in the sights as they flashed by. She hadn’t imagined Los Angeles, Hollywood to be more specific, would have much she’d find appealing. But every person, every building, every palm tree all added up to offer this fabulous, carefree existence that made it hard not to smile. It seemed so alive, so fresh.
And then there was Nate. Guarded and grumpy but still as toned, tanned and gorgeous as the rest of them. More so.
She refused to give in to the urge to look at him again but her body couldn’t be fooled. His mere presence filled the car, taunting her nose to the extreme as she tried not to inhale his unique male scent. She sniffed, failing dismally, and recognized something citrus, something woody and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.
Get a grip, Holly. Since when have you had nothing better to do than agonize over men’s cologne? She’d barely even looked at a man in three years.
“Not long now.”
At the sound of his voice, she almost jumped out of her skin. Recovering, she asked, “To the hostel?”
“No, to the moon.”
How could one man be so dangerously sexy and so irritatingly rude at the same time? Well, she’d had enough biting her tongue for propriety’s sake. “You do know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?”
“Really? And you learn something new every day.”
Before Holly could concoct a witty reply to that cliché, he turned a corner and she forgot about their inane conversation, instead gulping hard as he pulled up in front of what had to be her accommodation.
She could barely make out the front of the hostel, which was crowded with yet another mob of hyped-up cameramen, every one of whom stood to attention the moment they saw her in Nate’s car. He swore.
Her heart sky-dived into her stomach. Had they put some kind of tracking device on her? Or was that over-effusive travel agent who’d booked her flights and accommodation as dodgy as she’d suspected. She guessed the latter but it still perplexed her that anyone even cared.
Nate, true to form, didn’t feel the need for further conversation. She hadn’t expected him to leap out of the car and rush to open her door but…
Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t think straight when her pulse was beating so damn fast she could practically hear it.
Neither her Bachelor degree or her Masters in Cultural Anthropology or her years of tutoring younger university students had schooled her for being stalked by paparazzi. She allowed herself the luxury of one deep breath, undid her seatbelt and then forced her hand onto the door handle. Somehow she managed to speak. “Thank you, Nate Devlin, for looking out for me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” The car doors clicked locked.
She looked into his eyes—her stupid, juvenile heart flipping over at their irresistible intensity. She couldn’t speak.
“How long are you here?”
“Six days,” she managed. If only her parents weren’t relying on her to make this connection to Daisy, perhaps she could forget the Awards and flee back to Australia. If only…
“You can’t stay here with the cameras camped out.” Closing his eyes for a split second, Nate hissed air out through his teeth, ran a hand up through his thick dark curls and said, “You can stay with me.”
Chapter Two
“No way.” Holly almost sounded convincing as she leaned forward and gripped her laptop bag, but Nate was skilled enough in the ways of the fairer sex to know her bravado was all show.
After years looking after his younger sisters, he generally made a point never to rescue damsels in distress—especially reluctant ones—but as angry as it made him, Daisy wouldn’t want him leaving her kid sister in this mess. Besides, fate had delivered her right into his hands and he’d like a proper chance to grill her over her treatment of his friend. What kind of sister holds a grudge and cuts herself completely out of the other’s life? Holly needed to know how her actions had almost ruined Daisy. Sure a car accident had technically done the deed, but Holly’s refusal to even email had slowly eaten away at Daisy’s soul, taking the light and spark out of her vibrant eyes.
Her downward spiral had been devastating to watch. He’d wanted more than anything to pull her out of the black hole but, once again, him being there hadn’t been enough.
Still, he’d hear Holly out, pretend like he was going to take her opinion into consideration. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Why not?”
“Why not?” This time she sounded nearly hysterical. She glanced fleetingly out the window and then back to him. “I don’t know you at all. It was insane enough accepting a lift from you. But accepting a room…you could be a crazed, psycho serial killer for all I know.”
“I could be.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his tone. “Is that it?”
“No, of course that’s not it,” she snapped. “I was only just getting started.”
“Then please, go on. I’m sure your reasons are fascinating.”
She huffed a breath, took a moment as if trying to draft a half-logical argument, took another moment to eye the media throng, and then finally said, “That reason trumps them all. Thanks for the offer but I have to decline.” She hugged her laptop bag to her chest but made no move to try and unlock the passenger door, which confirmed his suspicions she didn’t actually want to leave.
“I had you pegged for a smart, intelligent woman.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Really? And what gave you that impression?”
“Male intuition.” When she rolled her eyes, he added, “And Daisy mentioned you were a teacher.”
“Obviously the grapevine failed her.” She spoke caustically but her grip loosened on her bag nonetheless. “I’m not a teacher. I’m a cultural anthropologist and I tutor first year university students.”
He shrugged. In other words, her world was light years from his. “Either way I’d have thought you sensible enough to see I’m offering nothing sinister—just a room to the sister of an old friend. If you’d rather share quarters with ten people and the media, suit yourself.”
He told himself his insistence had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that, beneath her plain attire, she was one of the most attractive woman he’d come across in a long while and everything to do with some twisted sense of duty. He had standards and although Holly more than met them physically, her values left lots to be desired. He’d spent the first half of his life with a man who treated his nearest and dearest like dirt and although Holly didn’t appear to resemble his father in any way, shape or form, he couldn’t ignore what she’d done to Daisy.
She eyed him again as if she were trying to read a page of hieroglyphics. “My gut instinct is telling me to get out this car while I can and brave the welcoming party out there.”
His chest tightened stupidly at the thought. “But?”
“I no longer trust my gut.” She reached for the seatbelt, scraped it back over her chest and shoved it in till it clicked. “I don’t know why you’re doing this for me and I’m thinking I’m highly likely to regret this decision at some point in the near future, but if you’re serious about offering me a room, then I’ll take it.”
Nate glanced in his rear view mirror and turned the Viper back into the traffic. He drove fast at first and detoured down side roads he didn’t need to take to ensure he lost any persistent followers. Most of the people behind the cameras would recognize him and it wouldn’t take long for them to find Holly at his place, but at least he had high-tech security to give her some kind of privacy.
During the twenty minutes it took to drive from central Hollywood to his house in Bel Air, neither of them said a word and it wasn’t what you’d call comfortable silence.
He summoned all the resolve he could not to turn his head in her direction but, almost home, he couldn’t help a quick glance sideways. She took his breath away. Sitting as if she were perched on a bed of nails rather than soft, plush leather upholstery only served to accentuate the perfection of her upper half. His throat tightened as his gaze dove from her pale, smooth neck to the vee between her breasts, slightly visible thanks to her top button having come undone.
“Watch out!”
Her voice snapped his eyes back to the road and he swerved to avoid a large, primly groomed poodle and its owner trotting down the side walk. Holy Hell…he’d almost driven off the road. His heart thundering, he glanced backward to see the middle finger of the dog owner standing at attention, aimed right at him. He couldn’t blame the man. Nate prided himself on steely determination and the ability not to get distracted by anything, especially women. It was this willpower that had given him the guts and resolve to stand up to his deadbeat father and make something of himself.
It wasn’t that he ignored women. He was one hundred percent American male and indulged in sensual recreations on a fairly regular basis, but he never let himself get completely affected. Part of his mind was always firmly rooted in his goals. Rooted in maintaining his success so he never had to go back. But something about Holly had him forgetting simple things such as road rules. He tightened his fists on the steering wheel.
Acting as if nothing had happened, he turned down his street and fished the security remote from the compartment between the two front seats. As his two wrought-iron gates peeled open in front of them, he heard the breath leave Holly’s lungs.
“You live here?”
He knew from the tone of her voice that her eyes would be wide and her mouth likely gaping open. It was the standard reaction he got whenever he brought a woman new to Hollywood back here. Locals were accustomed to the glitz and glamour and realized that most men in the area had properties twice the size and twice as elaborate and luxurious as his.
But truth was he still got a kick every time he pulled into his driveway. It had been over fifteen years since he’d escaped the hovel of his father’s home but he never forgot. Every time he came home, every time he took a photo, every time he dated a fabulous woman, he thought about what his life could easily have been. It was this memory that drove him.
“Yep, this is me.” And he pushed his foot onto the accelerator, cruising the car into his open garage.
* * *
Holly didn’t wait for Nate to walk round the car and open her passenger door. She was positively certain he wouldn’t and she’d be left sitting in the car like the unwanted guest she obviously was. It wasn’t that he’d said anything downright rude or directly stated that he didn’t want her here but his tone, the way he held himself, his mostly short sentences and his reluctance to chit-chat spoke volumes.
Getting out of his car, she shook her head—it wasn’t worth trying to decipher his reasons for inviting her. Her own motivations for accepting were shocking enough. But she couldn’t lie to herself. Although the masses of people waiting to snap her photo had been daunting at first, she had every faith she’d have been able to handle the attention once she’d gotten her head around it all. She’d have handled it differently than Daisy would have, but she’d have held her own.
Yet something about Nate had her wanting to go with him.
She’d accused him of possibly being a crazy psycho but perhaps she should point the finger closer to home. She fancied the pants off him…that was the problem. It was purely physical of course, but some insane fantasy inside her sick little head had her imagining that he’d offered her a room in his house so she could spend her week perving on his tight behind in those delicious fitted jeans. Much like she was doing now while she trotted along behind him as he took her suitcase up the vast entry stairs two at a time. Offered her a room because on some level he felt the same about her. Hah! She wiped her mouth in case of drool.
They got to the top of the stairs and the door opened before Nate slipped his key into the lock.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Nate. I thought you were at the office this afternoon.”
Innately nosy, Holly peered around Nate’s broad frame to see a small, plump, rosy-faced, middle aged woman with a feather duster in her hand.
“Change of plans,” Nate replied, his voice so much warmer than whenever he spoke to Holly. “But I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes and Holly won’t get in your way, will you.” He turned back to face her but his tone indicated his words hadn’t been a question.
“Of course not.” She offered him a smile that felt like it would split her face in two.
But if she’d expected an introduction to the pint-sized woman, she was sorely disappointed. Instead, he ordered her to, “Follow me.”
Not taking kindly to being ordered around but at the same time not feeling in much of a position to refuse, she skipped along behind, trying to focus on her surroundings—his gorgeous house and very tasteful art—rather than on the man himself. His place was massive. Granted, he was a large man with an even larger presence, but surely he didn’t live here on his own?
They swept through a living area bordered with wrap-around, chocolate-brown, suede couches that looked as if they’d been custom made to fit the room, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a sea-green swimming pool and then, in the distance, a lush, manicured golf course. No doubt membership cost more than double her annual salary.
Finally they arrived at the bottom of the grandest spiral staircase she’d ever seen outside the television. She looked up and up and up, wondering how many floors his mansion had.
“I’ll put you on the third floor,” he said, as if some kind of mind reader. “I’m on the second at the opposite end of the house.” His undertones couldn’t have been clearer. She was to stay out of his way.
She nodded and then breathed a sigh of relief when he turned around and began to climb the stairs. Unfortunately due to the stairs being curved, there were no large pieces of art to commandeer her attention as they trekked upward. She kept her eyes down, focusing on each step and moving one foot in front of another, but it didn’t make one iota of difference. Nate and his perfect physique were already imprinted in her mind. Simply knowing he was taking the stairs only a few steps ahead had her insides tangling and her hormones in a tizzy. It made her feel girly and silly like one of the bimbo heroines in the romantic comedies Daisy had starred in.
Although only three floors, the climb took forever. She breathed in deeply as she stepped onto level tiles and her eyes snapped once again to the walls, all splattered with large and truly amazing photographs of sunsets. They’d also been the subject of choice on the ground floor. She frowned, wondering if Nate just had a thing for golden, burnt-orange skies or if… “Did you take these?” She gazed up at a photo of the sun setting over the Golden Gate Bridge.
He stopped and swung around to see what she was looking at. He rested her suitcase on the floor and shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”
She considered this and then moved along to the next sunset. A beach, not one she recognized but beautiful nonetheless. She got the feeling he could make anything look beautiful. “Just a hobby? These are amazing.”
He almost smiled. She’d swear that’s what she’d seen lurking at the corner of his mouth but he clamped his lips together annihilating the possibility. Instead, he raised his eyebrows and gestured down the corridor. “I’ve got to get to work, so…if you don’t mind.”
Actually she did mind. So, he’d done her a favor by taking her in but there was no need to be so damn narky. It figured he’d taken these photos—he had moody artist down to a tee. Well, she was a woman who liked good conversation and she wasn’t about to spend six days in his house being inflicted with the silent treatment. “Of course, and what is it you do for a living, Nate?” She added a sugar-sweet smile for affect.
He started to walk and then must have realized she hadn’t acquiesced to his request. She heard him breathe out like it was a real hassle to do so. He turned back. “I’m a portrait photographer and I also teach. Photography that is, not anthropology or anything academic.”
The last line sounded like a personal insult. Against himself. But looking at his photos, looking about his house, he had nothing to feel inferior about. She ignored his self-deprecation, moving on to the next spectacular image and this time smiling because the photo had that kind of effect. “And let me guess, if I wanted to do one of those courses, it would cost a bundle and there’d be a lengthy waiting list?”
“Something like that.”
He didn’t look at the photo but rather at her as if he was trying to see beneath the surface. If he took some time to get to know her, he’d realize she was an open book whereas he was an enigma. “So, are the courses on portrait photography too or are they more general?”
He cleared his throat. “We offer courses in every type of photography—portrait, landscape, creative. We also teach digital imaging and how to enhance and alter photos once they’re taken.”
“Wow. I think that’s the most you’ve said to me since we met.”
He raised his eyebrows with apparent distaste. She’d been trying to lighten the mood, show him she wasn’t as boring and stiff as Daisy had likely painted her, but her “joke” had only worked to widen the canyon between them.
“As I said, I have to get to work.” He turned, then retrieved the suitcase and charged down the corridor. He pushed open a door. She walked briskly to catch up and found him laying her luggage on the kind of rack you see in flash hotels. She stopped two steps into the room and then slowly turned around, taking in every detail of her plush surroundings. Although the decor was very masculine, all dark browns and modern furniture, there was a strange warmth making her feel as if she were in a home rather than the presidential suite of a five star resort, which is what the room looked liked.