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Tristan pulled his thoughts back from the brink and dug his hands into his pockets, calling himself an idiot and wondering how long he could continue like this.
The crowd gave a howl of complaint as Lily and the heart-throb walked back towards the red carpet. The actor’s hand hovered behind her protectively, and even though Tristan knew they weren’t lovers he could tell by the expression on the Latino’s face that he’d probably give up that arm to become so.
He was immensely irritated by the man’s proprietorial air—and by his own desire to possess her. Especially when she had done little to incite his attention. And why hadn’t she?
Lily Wild was turning out to be an enigma, and he was not at all happy to find that he might have been guilty of stereotyping her just as much as the next person.
‘I have to do the red carpet thing and answer a few questions from the press and then we can go in,’ she murmured over the noise of the crowd.
He nodded, but his eyes were on the actor, and Tristan found himself deliberately stepping into Lily’s personal space to let the heart-throb know she was off-limits.
Lily’s eyes widened quizzically, but the actor got the message, throwing his chest forward in a display of machismo.
They took each other’s measure for a beat, and then the actor gave a typically Mediterranean shrug.
‘Hey, man, don’t sweat it.’ He laughed, backing down when it became obvious that Tristan wouldn’t. ‘I was just helping Angel, here. You know how she gets in crowds.’
Tristan didn’t, but he nodded anyway and watched the heart-throb amble further along the line.
He put his hand on Lily’s arm to stop her following. ‘What was he talking about?’
Lily sniffed, and raised a hand to wave at her fans. ‘Nothing.’
He tightened his grip as she made to shrug him off. ‘How was he helping you?’
‘Not by feeding me drugs, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
He hadn’t been thinking that, and her comment ticked him off. ‘Then tell me what he was talking about.’
‘I can’t explain here.’ She nodded to a fellow actor who blew a hello kiss. ‘I don’t have time.’
‘Make time.’
‘Oh!’ She huffed, and then leaned closer to him, her delicate perfume wafting into his sinuses. ‘I used to have agoraphobia. Now can we go?’
Tristan frowned. ‘Fear of open spaces?’
‘Do you even know how to whisper?’ she complained, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter. ‘Most people think of it as that, but in my case it’s a fear of crowds and being trapped in a situation I can’t control.’
‘That’s what the therapy was about?’ he said.
She glanced at him sharply. ‘How do you know…? Oh, your special investigator’s report. Well, it’s nice to know he got some things right.’
‘How do you know it was a he?’
‘Because from the little I know of what’s in it he’s made snap judgements on very little evidence at all—just like a man.’
Tristan bit back a response and refocused. ‘How bad is your phobia?’
Lily sighed. ‘It’s not bad at all. Jordi Mantuso and I swapped stories on set and he was just being kind.’
Tristan was shocked by her revelation. ‘And are you okay? Right now?’
She looked taken aback by the question and he gritted his teeth, realising that his behaviour towards her had given her a very negative impression of who he was.
‘Y-yes. I’m okay. It’s not like I can’t go out in a crowd—it’s more a fear of being trapped by them.’
‘Like when you were a child and surrounded with your parents’ crowds of fans?’
