He doesn’t respond. His eyes fix on hers. Then his hand comes up. His fingers brush her cheek as they snag a strand of hair and gently push it back. Then his hand stops, his palm flattening against her head. He is so close, far inside her personal space. His lips lower until they are just over hers.
Every particle of self-preservation, every iota of sense is screaming at Anna,Abort, abort, abort. But deep inside her, long buried, a dragon is unfurling and roaring,Yes!She hesitates, then closes the gap. Her lips brush his, tentatively, as if hardly daring to believe she is being permitted this. That tiniest touch is enough to set her body afire. His arm slides around her waist and along her spine, easing her closer. And then his mouth covers hers fully. When his tongue enters, all that heat concentrates deep in her belly, burning through restraint. He tastes of chilli and the fire in her mouth leads, like a line of petrol igniting, straight to an inferno in her belly. She presses herself against him. There’s no mistaking his response to their kiss. Ifshe has any thought they might still be in a friend-zone, that is now obliterated.
Anna doesn’t want the kiss to end, but a girl can only restrict breathing for so long. When she draws back, she feels unsteady. His breath echoes in her ear, panting as much as she is.
Then words: “I don’t know what you put in your lipstick but, wow, my lips are numb.”
And all of a sudden, the haze of desire is gone. Anna’s mind is quick and it slots into gear, pushing passion aside in favour of hard-nosed practicality.
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
He nods, his brow furrowing.
“Then let me drive and get in the passenger side.” She opens the driver’s side door.
“Whaa?”
“It’s not my kiss. Although, thanks for the compliment. It’s the shellfish. You are about to start feeling unwell. Now I can take you to a hospital, but I am aware you are a celebrity. Or I can take you back to your home and look after you there. In most cases, this will resolve with time. Don’t try to talk. Speech will already be disrupted. So, hospital?”
He shakes his head, although there is fear in his eyes.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she reassures him as she walks him to his seat. When he’s safely strapped in, she climbs into the driver’s side and starts the big car. She enters North Hangar Avenue into the sat nav, hoping she’ll recognise landmarks when she is close enough. Releasing the parking brake, she is grateful that, like many American cars, it’s an automatic and easy to drive. Then she turns out of the carpark onto the wrong side of the road.
It Happened One Night
Luckily, it’s late, with little traffic around. Anna realises her mistake almost immediately and swerves across the road, accompanied by a strangled cry from Tolly. For once, the notorious LA traffic is not a problem and she drives fast, breaking speed limits wherever she sees it is free of pedestrians. She screws up once more, finding herself in the wrong lane at an intersection and unable to make the turn, but the sat nav rescues her. Finally, she sees the road sign for North Hangar Avenue. She slows her pace, eyes searching out the guardhouse. There. She makes the turn but doesn’t wait for the guard, driving straight through and hoping he recognises the car. She follows the route Frank took the night before and finally pulls up in front of the garage. Security lights bathe the area in harsh white light. They must have been turned off for the party.
She helps Tolly from the car. His balance is already going and she realises she will never get him up the stairs. She sandwiches him against the wall as she goes through his pockets until her fingers close around his keys. Thankfully, he doesn’t have some fancy code lock. She slides the key in and opens the door. The house is dark and smells faintly of floral cleaner, probably the aftermath of the party. She finds a switch. Together, she and Tolly navigate the hall and enter the big double-height living room. The couch will have to do.
Anna helps him to the sofa. She can see the terror in his face, his eyes wide. Speech may be difficult, but he can still hear. It is time for reassurance. She assumes her calming voice.
“In most cases, this resolves without interference, within twenty-four hours.” Bang goes their drive along the Pacific Highway. “Your speech will be disrupted and your co-ordination will go, but it will be temporary. I will stay with you and monitor you. If I see anything worrying, I will call an ambulance straight away.”
She takes his hand and strokes down his wrist and up again, rather more intimately than she would normally do with a patient. “Tolly, I’m a bloody good doctor. I won’t let any harm come to you.”
His eyes relax a little. And she realises he does trust her. “If you can let go of the worry, it will be best if you sleep. This will get worse before it gets better.”
Again, she strokes his hand. “Now, I need to make a phone call, but I won’t be far away.”
Anna moves to the hallway, turning her body to reduce the chance of being overheard. She tries Bella first, but the call goes to voicemail. She curses her friend but doesn’t leave a message. At one time, she would have sworn she could count on Bella but this trip has altered that opinion. She taps the phone against her palm; it’s late but she really has no alternative. She opens the screen and calls Seth.
He answers after two rings. “Dr Mortimer,” his voice booms from the phone. “Have you got another customer for me already?”
“Afraid so,” she confirms, “but this one is a little tricky. Are you at work?”
“No. They do let me go home occasionally. Even on a Friday night.”
“I’m with a person – a film star – and he needs help.”
“Drugs?”
“No. Nothing like that. I think he has paralytic shellfish poisoning.”
“Oh, that’s different. And reportable. How film starry are we talking?”
“A-star plus.”
“What do you need?”
