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Her eyes burned back at him, and desire kicked in, fast and hot. Lizzie knew exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction from him. She always had. ‘Sounds good,’ he croaked.
* * *
The siesta had come and gone — with no sleeping involved — and Nick found himself getting ready for a party. A phrase he didn’t use very often. Lizzie had said casual, but to Nick’s mind casual meant jogging bottoms and somehow he couldn’t see this LA set turning up in a bunch of shell suits. Instead he opted to wear a blue linen shirt, chino trousers and the one jacket he’d brought with him. It was part determination not to be under dressed and part armour. In a jacket, or even better, a suit, he became Nicholas Templeton, partner in a thriving accountancy firm. That man was self-assured and assertive. Confident of his place at the business table. Nick Templeton, sometime boyfriend of the glamorous supermodel Elizabeth Donavue, was an entirely different matter. It was a role he’d only ever played in his dreams before now. And in his dreams, he thought despairingly as he surveyed himself in the mirror, he didn’t look like a flaming stuffed shirt.
He let out a resigned sigh. To hell with it. There was no time to change now. Even if there was, his small holdall was hardly crammed full with hot party gear — whatever that was. Her crowd would have to accept him as he was. It wasn’t as if they’d be regularly running in to each other. Unless he moved here . . .
He gave his hair a final cursory comb and went to hunt down some Dutch courage in the kitchen.
Delving into the fridge, he smiled with relief when he found a bottle of cold beer. Easing off the top, he settled against the counter and waited for Lizzie to make her entrance. He wasn’t disappointed. Five minutes later she positively floated into the room in a soft, ice blue, silk number. He wondered why he’d wasted his energy worrying about what to wear. No one, absolutely no one, was going to give him a second glance when he turned up with that vision by his side.
‘You look . . .’ His mind fumbled for the words. Why was he so useless when it came to complimenting a woman? No, that wasn’t true. Complimenting this woman.
‘Ravishing? Amazing? Glorious?’ she supplied, giving him a twirl, eyes alight with amusement.
‘Yeah, all of those things,’ he agreed, taking her hand and pulling her towards him. ‘Add breathtaking, too.’ He nibbled the soft lobe of her ear. ‘And good enough to eat.’
Giggling, she wriggled out of his grasp. ‘Oh no, you don’t. I can see your ploy, distract her with flattery and kisses and we’ll end up in bed and miss the party.’
‘Sounds like a good plan to me.’
‘Only because you’ve not spent an hour doing your hair and make-up.’
He planted some teasing kisses along her neck. Wow, she smelt as fantastic as she looked. ‘I can be careful.’
‘I bet you can, but you’ll have to wait till later.’ Her neck was no longer in striking distance. She’d moved ahead and was pulling at his arm. ‘Come on, it’s time to party.’
Nick gave in to the inevitable and followed her out. Perhaps the evening wouldn’t be as bad as he feared.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lizzie was looking forward to the evening almost as much as she knew the man sitting next to her in the limo wasn’t. She wanted Nick to meet some of her friends and if it meant him being uncomfortable, she was sorry, but this was important to her. He was important to her. She glanced over at him as the chauffeur drove them through the exclusive tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills, and had to smother a smile. He was resolutely staring out of the window, no doubt psyching himself up. She could never understand why parties weren’t his thing. When he was one on one, he was sharp and very funny. In smaller gatherings he’d hold his own, articulating his thoughts when he considered the conversation important enough. In a party though, he faded into the background, choosing the quiet corner. As someone drawn to the dance floor and the glittering lights, it was hard for her to understand his preference, though it didn’t mean she didn’t respect it. The very fact that he wasn’t a swaggering, arrogant extrovert was part of his charm. Part of what she’d fallen in love with. That and his strength, his desire to give rather than take. His innate goodness.
She bit her lip, looking back out of the window. God, he was so different to her. So much better. She was the one always on the take. Self-centred and demanding, she pushed people into doing what she wanted them to do, irrespective of their wishes. She hadn’t even learnt from her last monumentally selfish act, despite the tragic consequences. Oh no, what she’d done to her family, now she was doing to Nick. Pestering him to come over and see her, ignoring the fact that he’d kept telling her he was busy. Heck, she was even dragging him to a party he didn’t want to go to. Because he was kind, because he cared, he was doing what she’d asked. Instinctively she reached across and squeezed his hand, her heart feeling uncomfortably tight in her chest.
‘What was that for?’
‘Does there have to be a reason?’
‘Well, no, I guess not.’ He looked so adorable, his eyes like those of a Labrador who wasn’t sure what its master was trying to tell him.
Unable to resist, she leant over and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. ‘It was just to thank you for being you.’
‘By the end of tonight you might be wishing I was someone else.’
She had no time to wonder what he meant by that because security were waving them through Catherine’s gates and up the sweeping driveway towards the white mansion at the top of the hill. A typical Hollywood style grand villa, it boasted ornate balustrades, a sweeping marble staircase, tall, Roman style columns and an immaculate lawn. Oh, and the compulsory swimming pool.
‘Just your average house in Beverly Hills then,’ Nick remarked as he helped her out of the limousine. Suddenly his attention was caught by a vision in vivid purple. ‘Oh my God, isn’t that . . .’ He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Lizzie was swept into a full on embrace by the woman in question.
‘Catherine, I’d like you to meet Nick.’ It was quite obvious Nick knew who the glamorous brunette was.
‘Nick, a pleasure to meet you.’ Catherine extended her hand, and Nick gallantly kissed it.
‘I rather think the pleasure is all mine.’
Catherine let out an amused chuckle. ‘Oh, you Englishmen have such manners. Delightful.’ She clasped both of them by the hand and walked with them up the steps. ‘Now, come on in and make yourselves at home.’ On reaching the top, she turned and smiled at Nick. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Nick. Before the evening’s over I want to find out exactly what it is about you that’s put such a huge smile on Elizabeth’s face.’ She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, studying him. ‘Though I think I can probably work some of that out for myself.’
Catherine wandered off to greet more guests and Lizzie glanced slyly over at Nick. ‘Glad you came now?’
