Never Say Never (The Price of Fame Series) (5 page)

“Of course.”

Chloe inhaled deeply, then blew out a long breath. The unease was back, churning his stomach. He fought the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot.

“Then I’d love to come with you.”

This time her smile wasn’t the polite one he’d been treated to in the coffee shop, instead it was a full-blown beam, full of excitement, which made his chest swell. Sander couldn’t hold back his answering grin. Nor could he control the dart of heat in the pit of his gut. He stepped back. Pulling her into his arms and pressing her slight curves against him wouldn’t be a smart move.

Unable to resist completely, he leaned toward her and placed a chaste kiss against her cheek. His lips zinged and he longed to trail a path down to her mouth but pulled back.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” He winked, turned, and strolled back to his Porsche idling at the curb.

Chloe stayed on the step as he pulled away. Dammit but he’d wanted to haul her soft, pliant body into his arms and kiss her senseless. The thought made the heat in his gut arrow lower. When had a woman ever had that effect on him before? Was it because he knew she was off limits?

But she wasn’t off limits, not really. Sander grinned to himself as he turned the volume of the CD player up. If they were to convince his fans, the UK, and the happy couple of bastards who’d betrayed him they were together, kissing Chloe would be necessary. Glancing at his watch, he realized he didn’t have long to wait.

* * * *

“Bugger.”

Chloe slid the hangers back and forth along the metal pole in her wardrobe. Her heart pounded with panic as she realized she had nothing to wear. She stopped her crazed raking and eyed the zipped dress bag in the dark recesses of her closet.

No, she wouldn’t even think about that.

Chloe moved onto her chest of drawers and pulled everything out. The no-way-in-hells were dumped on the cream carpet, worse-comes-to-worsts spread across her bed. She had nothing glamorous or sexy to wear. Nothing. Why hadn’t she brought all the cocktail and party dresses back with her from LA? Even though she was over the weight limit for her luggage, the extra money would have been worth it.

She glanced at her watch. It was six-thirty. Every clothes store in London would be closed. Unless she wanted to mingle with the rich and privileged wearing a dress from the local supermarket, Chloe had to face the dress bag.

She went back to the closet and pulled the hanger out. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to remember this dress. So long since she’d looked at it. The only thing Dane ever bought for her, before the only time he’d ever taken her on a date. Still, even that had a sting in the tail she could have gone without.

Chloe took a deep breath to steel herself and unzipped the bag. Her breath hissed out and her heart galloped in her chest. The silk and chiffon red gown was as stunning as she remembered. Catwalk worthy with a price tag to match. No wonder she got the wrong idea when Dane gave it to her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered him bringing this home after he’d finished filming his latest movie. The premier for another was that night and she thought he was going with a Hollywood starlet. Of course, these dates were merely for publicity, or so he assured her. It wasn’t until later she realized how much of a mug she’d been to believe his lies.

Bubbling with excitement, Chloe had thought he was finally ready to make their relationship public. To take her to the biggest, most anticipated premier in LA. She’d been so happy she kissed him with tears streaming down her face. Her bubble of happiness had popped when he left, saying he’d call her the next day and take her somewhere private.

Chloe could only thank her lucky stars she’d never voiced her hopes. He thought she’d been happy with the present, when she hadn’t cared so much for the dress. What it represented to her, for that brief few seconds, was the reason for her joy.

And he’d shattered it as thoroughly as he’d later shattered her heart.

Chloe pulled the zipper up with shaking fingers and hooked the garment on the closet door. With a last hopeful glance at the cheap crap on her bed, she sighed and came to the conclusion she’d have to wear the dress. Or cancel.

The thought of letting Sander down, especially after he’d gone out his way to help her the other day, made her stomach queasy. For the first time in far too long, she was looking forward to a night out on the town and now he’d arranged care for her mum, she could go out without worrying.

* * * *

Chloe still wasn’t dressed when the doorbell rang, but it was only twenty to eight. Surely it couldn’t be Sander already. Pulling on her dressing gown, she headed downstairs. Every time she tried to slip into Dane’s dress she broke out in cool perspiration. She’d have to find the courage somewhere. As nice as her pink, baby doll robe was, she didn’t think Sander would appreciate having her pictured with him in her lingerie and having the images splashed all over the tabloids.

She grinned, still unable to believe he wanted her splashed all over the tabloids. With him.

Chloe pulled the door open. A woman around her mum’s age, with a soft expression and friendly eyes stood on her doorstep sporting a smile. She was dressed casually, in a pair of faded jeans and a navy blouse, holding a white, square box and a dress bag in each hand.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Freda,” she replied. “Mr. Chase asked me to keep your mother company while you were out.”

The mention of Sander made her tummy flip with anxiety. “Hi, Freda. Please come in.”

Chloe led her down the hall to the sitting room. Her mum was watching her usual Thursday night game show. Chloe rolled her eyes, but her lips kicked up in a smile. Whether Joyce thought it was now, or twenty years ago, she never missed her telly programs.

“Mum, this is Freda. She’ll be staying with you tonight for a little while.”

Joyce turned to them, her look knowing. “Will you be out with that young man tonight?”

Chloe was sure her heated face clashed with her pink robe. “Yes.”

Her mum’s eyes warmed. “I like him.”

Me too.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Butler,” Freda greeted her mum, then turned to Chloe. “Miss Butler, Mr. Chase asked that I give you these.” Freda handed her the white box and the dress bag. “He requested you wear them tonight.”

She ground her teeth together to stop her mouth popping open. “He bought me clothes?”

Freda smiled and nodded.

Chloe didn’t know how she felt about that. Grateful, yes. But it was too much like what Dane did to truly let herself enjoy the thrill. But this was different, Sander
was
taking her out. He wanted to be seen with her on his arm. Wanted the world to know they were together—even if they weren’t. Heart fluttering, she returned Freda’s smile.

It’s for show, Chloe. Remember that.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t keep your young man waiting,” Joyce scolded. She turned to Freda. “Do you watch this?”

“Never miss it.” Freda made herself comfortable on the worn sofa facing the television and both women started chatting about the show.

Smiling, Chloe ran up the stairs to finish getting ready. Her heart was ready to burst with excitement and she felt lighter knowing the dreaded dress could stay at the back of her closet where it belonged.

* * * *

Sander rang the doorbell, then tucked his hands back into his front pockets. His heart beat out an unsteady rhythm, and he was sure his unease was due to nerves. He just hoped Chloe liked the dress and didn’t think he bought it for her because he was trying to control her. Quite the opposite. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable at the club and wasn’t sure whether she had anything appropriate.

Joyce opened the door and paused in the entry. Face impassive, she looked him up and down before returning her hard gaze to his.

Sander fought the urge to swallow. He’d never been grilled by a date’s parents. Sienna lost her mother and father before they got together, and he’d never been with a woman long enough after that to take the next step.

“Mrs. Butler, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He smiled his most charming smile, slipped his hands out of his pockets, and offered one. He wondered if the gesture was too formal.

Chloe’s mum tentatively placed her hand in his and gave it a brief shake. “My Chloe’s had enough heartache in her life. Make sure you treat her right.”

Sweat beaded on his palms. Didn’t Chloe tell her mum this was for show? Or had Joyce simply forgotten?

“Heartache?” he asked, because the thought of another man hurting Chloe had anger twisting his stomach.

Joyce didn’t comment, but nodded seriously. Sander wondered what the hell had happened. Is that why she’d gone to LA? Or why she’d returned? It shouldn’t be any of his business, and her mother was still waiting on an answer.

“I have no intention of hurting your daughter, Mrs. Butler. Chloe is a wonderful woman, and I’m honored to have her by my side.”

All the truth. He couldn’t imagine asking anyone else to do this for him. Not since she’d said yes. That’s why he’d gone to so much trouble to help her.

Joyce’s lips curved, seemingly satisfied with his answer. She stood aside to let him in. Sander inhaled deeply, then stepped into the house. The hall was as small as it looked from the outside, with only three doors on the left. The staircase took up the wall on the right. Patterned, sixties style paper covered the walls, but it looked relatively new. No way had it been there all this time.

“
Family Frolics
is on. Do you watch it?”

Sander shook his head. He didn’t have time to watch much TV. Writing songs—a habit he’d not been able to kick since leaving the band—took up most of his free time.

“Mum, I’m sure Sander doesn’t watch rubbish like that.” Chloe’s soft voice sounded from above him and he automatically sought her out.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart galloped.

Descending the stairs in the blue, silk bodycon dress he’d bought her, Chloe looked like all his fantasies had come true. Her long, slim legs seemed to go on forever, and the tight material clung to her curves like a second skin. Heated blood drained from his head and rushed straight to his groin, making the dark material of his trousers tighten.

Dammit, how could he have once thought her merely pretty?

As she neared, he forced his gaze to her face to avoid embarrassing himself in front of her mother. He was sure Joyce would doubt his intentions if she saw him sporting a tent pole. That didn’t help much though. Chloe had applied minimal makeup, and instead of masking her features, it widened those delectable eyes and highlighted her sculpted cheekbones. A swarm of silky waves framed her face and flowed down past her shoulders.

He tried to smile, tried to greet her, but was frozen to the spot. Too scared to move, to breathe, in case his raging desire to pull her into his arms and ravish her was unleashed.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, Sander.”

Startled, he turned to the woman. Maybe, but he sure as hell wanted to find out.

“Mum,
Family Frolics
is the worst game show on the telly. You only watch it for the sexy host.”

Heat crept up his neck as the two women giggled. Joyce had been talking about the
show
. Not Chloe.

Trying to concentrate with very little blood in his head, he pulled himself together. “Chloe, you look absolutely beautiful.”

Pink flushed her cheeks, enhancing his opinion.

“Ready to go?”

Chloe nodded, walked closer, and wrapped her arms around Joyce. “You and Freda have fun.”

“We will, dear. You have a lovely night.” Joyce kissed the tip of Chloe’s nose before they broke away.

His heart tugged in his chest as he watched the loving exchange. Raking his brain, he couldn’t come up with a memory from his childhood where his parents had ever shown him that kind of affection. At the time he’d thought it was normal. It was all he’d known. He’d grown up with self-absorbed asshats for parents.

“I’m ready.”

Chloe’s voice broke through his thoughts. It didn’t matter. He had a sexy woman to himself for the next few hours and he shouldn’t be thinking about his parents. Had it really been so long since he’d been with a woman that he’d rather revisit his childhood than appreciate the beauty in front of him?

As they left, Sander murmured good evening to Joyce and promised to bring Chloe home safe. He held the door to his Porsche open for her, all the while unable to shake the lust seeing her slim curves barely confined in the dress. It was going to be hard as hell concentrating on mixing music tonight with Chloe by his side.

* * * *

Chloe was…star struck.

She’d met celebrities, movie stars, even some politicians, but she’d only been there to apply their makeup. Most hadn’t spoken to her, not really. But Sander whirled her around the club, his hand never leaving the small of her back, and introduced her to absolutely everyone.

And if she was really honest with herself, she also felt itchy. Her skin prickled beneath his touch and she was both thankful and ungrateful for the material covering her skin—however tight the dress might be. If his touch through silk could make her feel this…alive, then what would it be like when his strong, steady hands skimmed her naked flesh?

Chloe swallowed hard and gave herself a silent talking to. This was for show. She needed to keep her seamless knickers on.

Sander leaned down to speak into her ear over the music. She fixed her spine and fought the urge to melt into him. “I’m up soon.”

His warm breath tingled the sensitive skin on her neck and she shivered, but it didn’t take away the stab of disappointment. She was enjoying spending time at his side. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she was having fun. He was the DJ tonight in the club, and she’d known he’d have to leave her eventually. But so soon?

Ignoring her selfish desires, she rose on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his shoulders for support. His muscles bunched under her touch and she thought his eyes darkened, but that could be the dim light in the club. With heat spiraling in her stomach, she leaned closer to his ear, hoping he couldn’t feel her pebbled nipples pressed against his chest.