Star Crossed (Starlight #3) (15 page)

Chapter 17

Adam drives me to Piccadilly, and insists on walking me right inside the magazine. For a moment I think there’ll be trouble at the door, since I’m the only name cleared for security. But I’d forgotten that Adam is a world famous rock star.

Just one smile from Adam, and he’s waved through.

‘Are you going to ride with me in the elevator?’ I ask exasperatedly, realising he plans to accompany me every step of the way.

‘
Yep,’ he says, his blue eyes flashing. ‘And don’t you dare complain Summer Evans. You’re lucky I even let you out of the house.’

‘
Oh am I?’ I retort, unable to resist flirting with him when he’s in this mood.

The elevator doors slide open and we both step inside.

‘Yes,’ growls Adam as the door shuts.

It’s only the two of us inside, and the atmosphere suddenly becomes charged.

I feel Adam’s hand slide up my skirt.

‘
Should I remind you who’s in charge?’ he murmurs.

His thumb slides over the edge of my behind. I feel as though I’ve been main-wired with lust.

Suddenly the confines of the elevator seem thrillingly private. Even though our destination is ticking towards us one floor at a time.

‘
You’re not in charge of everything in our relationship,’ I say weakly, trying and failing to keep the desire out of my voice.

Adam spins me around suddenly, pressing me against the wall of the elevator.

Both of his hands hitch up my skirt. His thumbs press deep into my buttocks.

I give a little yelp of surprise and excitement.

‘I should fuck you right here in this elevator,’ growls Adam, his mouth at my ear. ‘But I’m going to content myself with spanking you instead.’

Oh no… Here?

I’m wrestling with contradictory thoughts. The first says we’re in a public elevator. The second says I am putty in Adam Morgan’s hands.

Without waiting for an answer, Adam inches down my
panties.

I know I should try and stop him.
If anyone were to see me like this. Bare-assed in an elevator. It’s too humiliating to even think about. But it’s thrilling too. And the truth is I am paralysed with lust. My body refuses to move an inch.

Adam’s palm brings a stinging slap against my behind.

Arrrgh!

It’s not painful.
Just enough to make all my nerves stand on end.

He does it again.
A swift slap to my behind.

‘
Do you like me being in charge?’ he murmurs silkily in my ear.

I grit my teeth.

‘Yes,’ I whisper.

His hand comes again.

‘Louder,’ he demands.

‘
Yes!’

His hand slides down my legs, and he pulls my panties back up.

My body trembles, begging for him.

‘
That’s enough discipline for now,’ he decides. ‘I want you to have me firmly in your mind for this photo shoot.’

He turns me around slowly.

‘Nearly at your floor,’ he says innocently, his eyes flicking to the elevator panel.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me!

I’m about ready to explode for him, and he’s leaving me hanging.

I stare at him open-mouthed.

‘To be continued,’ he adds, sliding his hand quickly between my legs and caressing my wetness. I convulse under his touch.

‘
I can’t believe you just did that,’ I mutter, as the elevator comes to rest at the hundredth floor. ‘I’m not going to be able to think straight for this photo shoot.’

‘
That’s the idea,’ says Adam.

Chapter 18

I meet George and Tammy with hugs and squeals of delight. I can’t believe how good it is to see them.

My temperature-raising elevator ride with Adam has faded slightly. But Tammy eyes my flushed face knowingly as we pull apart.

‘Still on the lust-athon?’ she asks.

I
feel my face colouring deeper.

‘
Something like that,’ I mumble.

‘
Oh, are we talking Adam Morgan?’ says George. ‘Some of the journalists were saying that they say him in the building.’

George looks a little annoyed at this. I guess she was looking forward to being
the centre of attention.

‘
He’s gone now,’ I assure her. ‘Come on, let’s go pick your wedding dress.’

George brightens up immediately at the mention of this, and begins filling us in on her husband-hunt at rapid fire pace.

In the last week, it seems George has gone marriage crazy. Even though there doesn’t seem to be a fiancé in sight as yet.

‘
You have to work hard in your early twenties,’ she assures us. ‘All the eligible men get snapped up quick. You can’t miss an event or risk not looking your best.’

‘
By eligible, I guess you mean heir to some fortune?’ asks Tammy, rolling her eyes.

‘
Well, yes,’ concedes George. ‘It’s as good a way to judge a man as any,’ she adds defensively.

‘
Sure it is,’ I say, marvelling at the transformation in George. Less than a week ago I would have sworn her sole ambition was to be a singer. Now she’s a few steps away from being a Bridezilla. Maybe there’s a lot of marriage pressure for girls of her class.

‘
How is Sing-Win going?’ Tammy asks me, clearly bored of George’s marriage plans.

I hesitate. For some reason I don’t want to tell them about being followed. It seems almost surreal now anyway.

Besides, this is George’s day. I shouldn’t get all the drama.

I decide to explain things to Tammy later, when it’s all blown over and she won’t worry.

‘Good,’ I say brightly. ‘I’m excited about my solo song.’

Tammy eyes me, clearly not convinced by my tone.

‘Everything ok with Scandelous?’ she asks. ‘Those bitches not causing you any trouble?’

‘
Um. Yeah well. They’re not much fun to be around,’ I say, relieved to have a reason for Tammy to fix on, for my odd mood.

Tammy scowls.

‘You just tell me if they bother you,’ she says. ‘I’ll come by and give them a piece of my mind.’

I smile at her gratefully.

‘Sing-Win amnesty!’ protests George, in a sudden loud voice. ‘This is my day, remember? Can we talk about Summer’s show later.’

‘
Fine with me,’ I shrug.

I’m expecting Tammy to make a snarky remark, but
her attention is suddenly arrested by the wedding shoot.

‘
Wow!’ says Tammy, as we move into the huge room. ‘It looks like a wedding fair in here.’

The studio is stacked full of wedding goods. It looks incredible.
There are towering white cakes and racks of dresses. White roses and beautiful bouquets decorate everything, and the wall and ceilings of the studio have been made entirely white.

‘
It’s beautiful,’ I say. ‘Like a real celebrity wedding.’

‘
Girls!’

We all snap to attention as a
n impossibly upper-class accent greets us.

A smiling woman comes
towards us. She’s dressed like an older version of Kate Middleton, in a tasteful designer suit, low heels and pearls, and her salt-and-pepper hair is brushed loose over her shoulders.

‘
So wonderful to have you here!’ she announces.

I blink at her accent. I thought
George sounded posh. But next to the magazine-woman, George sounds positively ill-bred.

‘
Teresa!’ sings George, her accent pitching suddenly to match.

Tammy and I exchange glances as George and Teresa air-kiss.

Guess this is a side to George we didn’t know about.

‘
So lovely to see you again Teresa,’ says George in cut-glass vowels. ‘You’re an angel to arrange this.’

I look at George
, expecting an introduction.

‘
Teresa is my second cousin,’ explains George. ‘She set all this up for me.’

Next to me, Tammy doesn’t bother to hide a snort of disdain. She never did get over the idea of English privilege.
The way that aristocrats always land the plum jobs and give their relatives advantages.

‘
This is Tammy and Summer,’ says George, shooting a warning look to Tammy.

Teresa envelops us both in a cloud of expensive smelling perfume and them beams at us happily.

‘I can’t
tell
you how pleased I am to have organised this shoot,’ she says. ‘I’ve been on at the editor for soooo long. I told her, our readers need weddings! They want to see a bride! But the editor is one of the horsey set,’ Teresa frowns mildly. ‘You know the sort,’ she continues conspiratorially. ‘Wears jodhpurs to the office, and could do with a tug of a hairbrush, and slick of lipstick.’

I laugh despite myself. Teresa has summed up a particular set of
high-born women perfectly. It’s ironic considering she’s something of a stereotype herself.

‘
But
,’ continues Teresa with a dramatic sigh, ‘the editor has
finally
seen reason, and decided that at least
some
of our readers wear dresses. So now we have this wonderful shoot arranged.’

Teresa’s attention is back on George now, and I can tell she’s
delighted in her choice of bride.

George’s long lean figure and blonde hair make her the perfect wedding model.

‘Shall we find you a dress?’ breathes Teresa.

George beams.
‘Nothing could make me happier,’ she promises.

We spend the next hour sorting through a huge rack of designer dresses. George is in her element, holding dresses up against her lean figure, and gushing over fabrics.

‘
They are
so
beautiful,’ she says, yanking forth a mermaid shaped dress decorated in gems. ‘You can really tell the difference in the quality of a designer dress.’

‘
Uh huh,’ says Tammy. She’s already getting bored. Fancy dresses are not her thing.

‘
How shall I ever choose one?’ says George, blinking at herself coquettishly in the mirror.

‘
Here’s how,’ says Tammy, launching herself at the rack. ‘You pick this one, this one,’ Tammy begins tugging out dresses. ‘This one here,’ she continues, ‘and let me see… This one.’

Tammy pushes the cloud of dresses into George’s arms.

‘Then you try them on,’ says Tammy. ‘Then you wear one.’

‘
No need to get mad Tammy,’ says George grumpily. ‘I’m just enjoying being the centre of attention for once. It’s usually Summer who’s the focus of everything.’

George shoots me a slightly bitter look and I feel a sudden uncertainty.

She certainly seems to resent my time in the spotlight.

I dismiss the thought, focusing instead on preventing an argument between Tammy and George.

‘You try some dresses on,’ I urge George. ‘Call us when you’re wearing one. In the meantime we’ll choose our bridesmaid dresses.’

I glance at a smaller rack of coloured dresses next to the bridal gowns.

George frowns.

‘
But I wanted to pick the bridesmaid dresses,’ she says petulantly. ‘It’s
my
wedding.’

‘
For God’s sake George,’ snaps Tammy. ‘You’re not
actually
getting married.’

‘
Why don’t you tell us the colour you’d like,’ I say soothingly. ‘We’ll pick a few styles and you can choose the one you want us to wear.’

‘
Ok,’ says George, pacified. Her eyes rove over us both.

‘
I’d like a baby pink,’ she says. ‘Or maybe a lavender.’

‘
Fine,’ I agree, taking Tammy’s arm. ‘We’ll go look. You call us when you’re dressed.’

George struts away into the dressing room with the pile of dresses. Tammy gives me a look and we both grin.

‘You know she will
actually
get married soon?’ says Tammy. ‘What’s she gonna be like then?’

‘
We won’t need to worry about it,’ I say, leading the way to the bridesmaid dresses. ‘George will have her cousins or fiancé’s sisters as bridesmaids. You know how it works. Families like hers stay tight when it comes to marriage.’

‘
We can only hope,’ mutters Tammy as we reach the dress rack. She pulls out the nearest baby pink dress and makes a face.

‘
I
know
George only picked this colour, because it will look horrible on me,’ she adds.

‘
Probably,’ I concede. ‘But it’s her big day. Let’s just give her what she wants.’

We both pull out dresses, laughing.

‘How’s it going with Dev.as.station?’ I ask.

‘
Good,’ Tammy assures me. ‘I’ve got my first gig with them tomorrow. Wanna come?’

‘
I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ I promise.

Unease slides through my belly, remembering the man who followed me. I guess I shouldn’t really be promising Tammy until Adam says I’m safe.

But I could hardly let Tammy down could I?

I privately resolve to get to her gig by any means necessary.

‘I guess this
is
fun,’ says Tammy, waving a strapless lavender dress. ‘Think we’ll get a slice of cake later?’

She’s eyeing a table on the far side of the room, groaning with beautiful white towers of cake.

‘Hope so,’ I say, taking the lavender dress she’s offering me. ‘Come on. Let’s go try these on.’

We’ve chosen three styles of bridesmaid dress by the time George emerges from the makeshift dressing room.

‘
This is it!’ she calls across the studio. Her voice is loud enough to cause everyone to turn around. And when they do, there’s a collective hush.

George looks beautiful.

‘Oh my God!’ I enthuse, rushing towards her in my strapless lavender bridesmaid dress. ‘You look totally incredible.’

I stop within a few feet of George, taking in the full dress.

‘It’s perfect,’ I say.

The dress George has chosen is a Basque-waist silhouette. It’s fitted right down to upper thigh, and then i
t flares out in a graceful sweep of skirt.

‘
Ivory works best with my skin,’ smiles George, smoothing the silken fabric. ‘And I think the jewels on the skirt make me look curvier.’

‘
You look stunning George,’ says Tammy. ‘Really.’

George beams, her eyes fixed on her reflection.

‘This is the one,’ she breathes.

Teresa rushes over now, and begins gushing at George’s dress and figure.

‘You’ve chosen Vera Wang,’ enthuses Teresa, ‘it’s a classic choice. Beautiful. But of course we always knew you had style George.’

‘
This is what I’m going to wear on my actual wedding day,’ promises George, still staring in the mirror. She lets out a little laugh. ‘So my fiancé had better come with a big cheque book!’

Teresa and George both laugh.

‘How much is the dress?’ I ask, curious. This is another world for me.

‘
Price is on application,’ says Teresa, ‘but,’ she adds with a knowing wink, ‘we can get George a magazine discount. So this dress will only cost her £15,000.’

Tammy’s eyes threaten to bulge out of her head.

‘You’re kidding?’ asks Tammy.

‘
I know,’ affirms Teresa with a smile. ‘It’s a great price. A Vera Wang original would usually cost you upwards of £20,000.’

Tammy glances at me but doesn’t say anything. I guess the price of the dress ha
s rendered her dumb.

‘
Maybe I’ll put the dress on reserve after the shoot,’ considers George.

‘
Don’t you need a fiancé first?’ asks Tammy rudely.

‘
It’s on my list for this year,’ George replies with a haughty smile, ignoring Tammy’s tone. ‘Get married.’

‘
The party season is coming up, so there’ll be at least five formal balls,’ explains Teresa. ‘I can’t imagine Georgina will get through those without being snapped up.’