Close Up and Personal (18 page)

“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” she says. “I’ve never seen James this smitten before. And don’t worry. I’ll tell him to take care of you. Such a beautiful girl.”

Take care of me. If only she knew.

She stands, smiling. “I’ll see myself out,” she says. “Perhaps when I’m less jet-lagged
, you can come over to my place sometime and we’ll eat some cookie-dough ice-cream.”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll see myself out.” And with a last charming smile, she’s gone.

I sit back on the couch
, star struck and reeling from all of this. Part of me is a little annoyed with James. What sort of man sends a Hollywood A-lister to petition for a girl to take his phone calls?

But the thought takes my heart in a happy warm hold, and I grin to myself. Ok I’ve been stupid and I’ve ove
r-reacted. Yes I’m embarrassed - mortally embarrassed - that a famous actress has just seen me red-eyed on the couch. But despite all of this, I don’t care.

James likes me.
Madison said so. And he hadn’t lied to me. His marriage isn’t real. I hug the thought to myself, grinning.

Lorna appears in the doorway, her face a picture.

“So, all good in tinsel-love-town?” she says, a huge smile on her face. “Did a certain person get the wrong end of the stick?”

I laugh. “Yes. Yes. Ok, you were right. I was wrong. There is nothing between him and his wife. It’s just for show.”

Lorna collapses next to me on the couch.

“Phew! Issy Green. Your life! You could be a movie all of your own. I knew you were a good actress, but I didn’t think I’d be welcoming in Hollywood royalty
quite
so soon!”

I laugh again, and Lorna joins me.

“It’s crazy, huh?” I admit, still trying to assess things myself.

“
Yeah,” says Lorna. “All these years you’ve been holding out on us. Then, wham! You have enough love life drama for three people.”

She looks at me intently.

“So, I take it lover boy is off the hook?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Then you best go call him, Miss Leading Lady.”

I raise myself to my
feet, my face still plastered with an idiot grin, and take my phone.

“Just go
ing to make a call in my bedroom,” I say.

“Of course you are.” Lorna picks up the remote and flicks the channel. “I’m going to try
and find something more interesting than your life to watch on TV, but I think I’m out of luck.”

I leave the room, heading for my bedroom, and collapse on the bed, clicking on my phone.

It takes five minutes to inform me of all the missed calls, voicemails and messages. Then finally my phone is functional and I press the contact. James Berkeley. I take a deep breath as it rings.

For a terrible second
, I think he’s not going to pick up. Then his voice is loud and relieved over the phone.

“Isabella.”

“James.”

I wonder if he can hear the embarrassment in my voice. “You didn’t have to send
Madison over,” I mumble, part shame, part amusement.

“When you have an important person to win over
, you pull out all the stops,” he says. “That’s my attitude to business. It’s not different in my personal life.”

“And I’m an important person?” I tease, delighted to have drawn this confession out of him.

He sighs down the phone, and I can almost hear his eyes close.

“You have no idea how important,” he says. “Can I come up?”

“Come up?”

“I’m outside,” he says.

“You’re outside?”

“If you’re going to keep repeating everything I say then this relationship is never going to work.”

Relationship? He wants a relationship?

I stop myself from repeating him again.

“Why are you outside?” I manage.

“I’ve been here all day,” he says. “I was hoping, since you’re not answering your phone
, you might venture out. But I was disappointed.”

“Sure,” I manage, not sure what to make of that. “Come up.”

He’s at my door in moments, and this time I answer it instead of Lorna. She sits grinning from the couch, rolling her eyes at my sudden dramatic romantic life.

“Hi,” I say shyly, as I open the door.

“Hi.” He takes my chin in his hands and stares into my eyes.

I am conscious that Lorna is only a few metres away in the next room, and take his hand.

“Come through.” I lead him to my bedroom.

“The second time I’ve been in here,” he murmurs, seating himself on my bed and drawing me down next to him. “And yet it feels like we’ve known each other so long.”

The truth of it surprises me. I realise we’ve
been dating each other – if you could call it that - only a matter of days.

His proximity comes with the familiar allure. I can
smell him, feel his warmth.

James
leans towards me, catching me in his arms.

We kiss and I feel the world melt away. My body is writhing with the familiar electric
current which he manages to spark in me. Our lips are hot, fervent, and his hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer.

“God
, Issy,” he says, “what have you done to me?”

“I cou
ld ask you the same,” I breathe.

In answer
, he slides his hands up my body, caressing my breasts and pressing his thumbs gently into my nipples.

I push forward into his hands,
eager for his touch.

Then h
e reaches a hand up under my skirt and tugs down my panties.

It feels too sudden, too intimate, but at the same time incredibly hot. I haven’t the
force of will to stop him. I don’t want to.

He
roughly pulls away my underwear, leaving my lower half naked beneath my dress.

Then he’s pushing me back, and he’s rested on top of me.

“I. Want. You. So Badly.” He’s kissing me hard between each word, and then I hear a foil packet tear as he frees his erection from his jeans and rolls a condom onto himself.

I tear at his shirt, ripping it open and exposing the taut muscles of his chest.

He waits for a moment, poised between my legs, and it’s agonising. Every part of me is screaming for him. Then he plunges in, taking my mouth in a deep kiss as he thrusts inside.

This time
, it’s hard, fast. But I want it. I want him to take me roughly.

I moan
as he moves, pushing strongly against me, his hardness penetrating deep and then deeper. I claw at the strong muscles of his arms as they circle around and under me.

This time
, the feelings of fear and pain have gone. There’s nothing but the smell of him, his mouth on mine, and him, taking me completely.

I feel myself letti
ng go, opening myself up to his strength.

Then I feel the orgasm begin to build. He moves harder, and then repositions himself so he’s hitting a new place on intense pleasure deep within.

It’s so intense, this sudden physical reunion after a day of trying to push him from my mind. The feelings of relief mingle with my desire for him.

I moan again, and he thrusts hard. It’s too much, and I gasp as the feeling grows to the inescapable climax of pleasure.

I cry out, shattering into the warmth of my orgasm. He groans and makes two more deep hard thrusts. The sensation raises me into another exquisite spasm and he groans as he comes inside of me.

He lies on top of me, both of us still half-dressed, taking in the sudden pulse of lust which brought us together. James pulls out of me, rolling to one side, and wraps his arms around me.

He pushes his mouth against my ear.

“I take it you’ve forgiven me,” he says.

I laugh. “For the time being,” I say.

He sits up, looking troubled for a moment, drawing me upright with him.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. His face looks chastised. Sad.

I look at his features in puzzlement, trying to work out what he needs to be sorry for.

“I was so angry when I saw those pictures in the newspaper,” he says. “I… I failed to protect you, Issy. I know this industry. You don’t. It’s my duty to protect you from those vultures. I thought I’d done that, but I hadn’t. I let your picture make it to press. It’s unforgivable.”

He looks so sad, and I put my arm around him. His words have taken me completely by surprise. He was worried about protecting me?

“What are you protecting me from?” I say, trying to understand.

He turns to me. “The paparazzi, of course. There’s no way I’m going to let you become fodder for their newspapers.”

“I… I don’t mind if a few pictures appear,” I say. From what I remember, they were nice pictures.

James is shaking his head.

“You are new to this,” he repeats, “and trust me, Issy, if you let me direct you in this movie, you’ll be a big star. Soon. But you have to keep out of the press. They only want to run bad news.”

Ok, so all the news stories I read on celebrities in the English press tend to be about scandal. I think about this.

“I’ve got my best lawyers on this,” he says. “I’ve got every one of those paps scared for their jobs. You’re protected, for a time at least.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” I ask. I can’t help myself.

He smiles. “Of course I’m not. But my life is complicated. Madison and I have an arrangement. Believe me, if I hadn’t taken strong action today, tomorrow’s papers would be running stories of you as a marriage wrecker. That’s why Madison has flown in. We’ve worked out a story to limit the damage and keep you safe.”

My mind is wheeling.

“What story?” I manage.

“That you’re a dance teacher, and I’m learning
to tango for a vow renewal which Madison and I are planning.”

Oh. This hurts me more deeply than I would have thought.

He sees my expression.

“It’s for the best
, Issy,” he murmurs. “Nothing is more important than keeping you safe. My lawyers have informed all the papers that any more pursuit of the dance teacher will be dealt with under the utmost power of my legal team.”

“So I’m just a dance teacher,” I mumble. All my earlier feelings are starting to return. I’m nothing to him. His image is more important.

“Oh, Issy,” he says. “You’re so much more than that.”

“Then what am
I?” I demand, suddenly angry again.

He gives me an impish grin.

“You’re the girl who ran barefoot out of my house rather than wear a pair of shoes I bought you. You certainly have a lot of spirit.”

I flush at the memory.

“Did you think that I’d lied to you?” he asks gently. “About Madison?”

This is too embarrassing. I did, but
now that the facts are in front of me, I have to admit I had no reason to think it.

“Yes,”
I admit, looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I took her call when I should have been explaining things to you,” he says. “But I was so frantic to protect you. It had to be done quickly.”

He’s staring intently into my face.

“I admire your spirit
, Issy, but this tendency to over-react might need to be managed.”

I stare back at him, not knowing what he means. He sighs.

“Have you thought about my suggestion, Issy?” he says. “Wouldn’t you like me to take that tempestuous nature in hand? It would be so much easier for both of us.”

“I… I don’t know.” It is true that my temper has gotten me into scrapes in the past. But that doesn’t mean I w
ant to be led by a man.

“Think about it,” he says. “I think that being ruled by me would do you more good than you know. That and a well-timed beating now and again.”

I take a breath.

He gives a roguish smile.

Is he serious? I can’t tell.

“Are you really saying that you want to beat me?” I ask, swallowing at the thought.

“I want you to submit to my authority,” he says. “And when you over-react as you did today, a punishment would be needed to keep you in line.”

“
What sort of punishment?” I am curious despite myself.

His eyes flash. “Something pre-agreed by both of us.”

James lowers his voice and takes my chin in his hand.

“I think that a part of you wants very badly to be taken in hand,” he says, fixing me with a steely gaz
e. “Your rebellious nature wants to be subdued.”

He releases my chin, and I feel strangely disappointed.

“Only time will tell,” he says. “And as you know, Isabella, I would never do anything you hadn’t agreed to.”