Starstruck (2 page)

The heat from the fireplace in the center of the room made
her shudder with delight as she entered the elaborate lounge. She wound through
the crowded tables to a stool at the bar and placed her bag and coat on the
vacant seat beside her.

“I’ll have a glass of champagne, please.” She nodded to the
bartender who placed a folded napkin in front of her. She didn’t ordinarily
drink champagne, but she had never flown first class before either so it seemed
fitting for the occasion.

A wave of lightheadedness swept over her. Nearly 7:00 p.m.
and she hadn’t really eaten since breakfast. She looked up when her drink arrived
and thanked the dark-haired man serving her. His aura slowly changed from pale
pink to a clear red. This usually meant one thing—he was interested in more
than just filling her glass. He was handsome enough, but she wasn’t searching
for love.

He winked, a playful smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.
“Just give me a holler if you’d like anything else and I’ll come runnin’.”

She returned his smile and his eyes brightened, his blazing
aura vibrating around him before he hesitantly stepped away to serve another
customer, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

She’d been out of the dating game so long, she wasn’t sure
she even knew how to flirt anymore. Though in the name of harmless fun, she was
more than willing to give it her best shot. Couldn’t hurt…right?

She and Tom had been together since she was sixteen and he
was eighteen. He’d been the only serious boyfriend she’d ever had. As a
thirty-one-year-old woman in the prime of her career, she didn’t need a man to
be successful and had decided since arriving in London last week she would
focus most of her energy on her job. Tom and Charli could go to hell. Sam was
officially single and it was high time she injected a little spontaneity into
her life.

Just thinking about dating again made nervous tension
flutter around in her stomach, but a few innocent flirtations with a man she
had no hope of seeing again was okay…wasn’t it?

Swallowing the champagne in one gulp, she beckoned the
bartender with a wave. He came running just like he’d promised and placed a
fresh glass in front of her. As he poured her drink from the chilled bottle,
his gaze followed her every move.

She fidgeted in her seat before clearing her throat. “Would
you have a piece of paper I could write on?”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it
shut and happily obliged, sweeping his hand underneath the bar and emerging
with a small notepad and pen.

“Thank you so much. That’s perfect.” When she accepted the
items from his hand, her finger unintentionally brushed his palm and he gave
her a silly grin. She shot him a wink this time and he chuckled, running his
fingers through his dark hair.

Huh. Perhaps flirting wasn’t so difficult after all.

* * * * *

Jesse Maurello quietly sipped his red wine, slumped in the
dimly lit corner at the far end of the bar. He’d kept his eyes riveted to the
woman from the plane since the moment she walked through the doors at the other
end of the private lounge. And he wasn’t the only man in the joint who had her
full attention. Her stride swiveled the head of every Y chromosome she passed,
though her admirers’ adoration was wasted on her.

Her eyes were set straight ahead, black-heeled boots
quickening when a couple vacated two of the high-backed barstools.

Surely she knows how beautiful she is…doesn’t she?

He could’ve sat and watched her for hours, though there was
one part of the picture he would have liked to erase. The gravitational pull
the bartender seemed to have toward her made Jesse’s good mood spike with
irritation. The younger man’s eyes barely left her, even when he tended nearby
patrons. If Jesse were canine the ridge of hair on his back would have been
standing on end, a growl of warning rumbling deep inside his chest.

When the bartender moved farther down the bar, finally
leaving her the fuck alone and getting back to doing his actual job, Jesse was
able to relax and enjoy the untainted view.

The fair-haired goddess leaned forward and rested her elbows
on the bar, her eyes cast down to the notepad in front of her. She slowly
twirled the black pen balanced between her index and middle fingers, her brow
slightly furrowed.

It would have been cute had she not glanced up, had he not
witnessed the great sorrow that swept into her eyes before she tilted her head
and placed pen to paper. The lump that rose in his throat took him by surprise.

A wave of her long hair crept over her shoulder and fell
across her cheek, a golden curtain of silk obscuring his view. His agitation
built every second her flawless face remained hidden, but she didn’t torture him
for very long and for that he was grateful.

She kept her writing short and then quickly tucked her
wayward locks behind her ear before tearing the page free and folding the paper
several times. When she’d finished fiddling, she had something resembling a
small makeshift pouch.

She placed it beside her drink and then brought the back of
her hand closer to her face, staring at the ring on her finger—her ring finger.
After a minute or two, she suddenly attacked her own hand, pulling and twisting
at the ring, her lips pursed tight with frustration when the band wouldn’t slip
easily over her knuckle.

She won the battle in the end and it brought a sweet,
satisfied smile to her lips.

I wanna make her smile like that.

After dropping the ring inside the paper pouch and closing
the flap, she rummaged through her bag and produced an envelope. She tucked the
small package inside and addressed the front before returning her attention to
her champagne.

Jesse decided then and there he wanted to speak to her
again, sooner rather than later.

Chapter Two

The rock star from the plane walked the length of the
mahogany bar in her direction. And with his every step in those sexy-as-hell
boots, her heart raced a little faster. She stared straight ahead at the
mirrored wall when he maneuvered between the two empty stools beside her and
held his index finger in the air, prompting the bartender his way.

The dark-haired man walked quickly back in their direction
but stopped in front of Sam. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Don’t happen to have a mailbox under that bar of yours, do
you?” She unleashed what she hoped was a cheeky grin, picking up the envelope
and waving it back and forth.

“No, but the airport does have a mailroom. I’d be more than
happy to add this to tomorrow’s outgoings for you.” He plucked the envelope
from her fingers and flashed a seductive smile before addressing Jesse. “What
can I get you, my friend?”

A hint of recognition flashed in the bartender’s eyes, but
he didn’t let on if he knew who Jesse was.

“I was wondering if you could find out when my flight will
be re-boarding. I’ll be in the dining room, if that’s okay.” As Jesse relayed
his flight number, she wished for somewhere to hide, not quite over her
embarrassing encounter with him earlier.

“I’d be happy to find out for you, sir.”

Jesse slowly turned toward Sam, so close she couldn’t ignore
him any longer without appearing rude. She turned her head to the right and was
met with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She could have sworn they weren’t
that blue on the plane.

Looking at him now, she understood why Charli was so
infatuated with him. He was not only insanely good-looking but carried an air
of confidence that exuded pure sex appeal. He’d aged extremely well considering
the lifestyle he surely led. Father Time had been very kind to this man…very
kind indeed.

With a mouth suddenly as dry as the desert, the best she
could summon was a shy smile. She sipped from her glass and averted her eyes
back to the bar. What in the world had possessed her to throw a lolly at the
man’s head?

The bartender disappeared through the doorway near the wall
of shelved spirits. He couldn’t have been gone more than sixty seconds before
he returned, but to Sam those moments seemed much longer. She was all too aware
of Jesse, still standing in her personal space, and couldn’t think of a single
thing to say to him.

“If you would like to go on through the double doors at the
back, Mr. Maurello, they will lead you into the private dining room. I’ll be
sure to let you know as soon as I have the information on your flight.”

“Thank you.” Jesse handed the bartender a one-hundred pound
note.

“Thank
you
, Mr. Maurello.” The man pushed the crisp
note into his apron pocket, nodded appreciatively, and then rushed off to serve
a customer at the far end of the bar.

She sensed Jesse’s eyes on her skin…and her suspicions were
confirmed with another glance in the mirror behind the bar. His unabashed gaze
lingered on her throat before lowering to the opening of her blouse. Her
nipples were unusually responsive, tightening almost to the point of pain, her
skin prickling just beneath the surface.

If his eyes alone were capable of drawing such a strong
reaction from her, what could he achieve with his hands?

The old Sam—committed and loyal to Tom—would have allowed
this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pass her by. She would have offered a
forced smile and an air of disinterest, so attuned to Tom’s dislike of other
men giving her this kind of attention. But she was now free to take the
initiative and make a move of her own, let Jesse know she wasn’t opposed to
continuing their banter while they waited for their flight.

Gathering her courage—and her wit—she finally faced him
again. “Nice tip. You’ve made his day, I’m sure.”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “I think his day was
done, darlin’, when he got that wink out of you. I was hoping you might let me
buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do considering I stole your sugar haul.”

Jesse smirked again, the one where his lips curled more to
the left. He leaned closer, placing his chin on his knuckles as he put his
elbow on the bar. His eyes shifted over her face and the corner of his mouth
twitched as she digested his invitation.

Did he just invite me to dinner? What planet am I on?
Shit, he’s still looking at me…say something fast before he changes his mind!

“I’d like that.” She sipped the last of her champagne. “But
only if you promise to keep your hands off my plate. I’m an only child. I don’t
like to share.”

“Ah, feisty, beautiful
and
a sense of humor. I’m
impressed.” He casually raised one eyebrow as he held out his arm in invitation
for her to join him.

“Who says I’m joking?”

“Darlin’, I promise to keep my hands off your plate…but
that’s all I’m promising.” He grinned.

She grabbed her bag and leather coat and slipped her hand
through the crook of his arm as he led the way to the dining room.

They walked through the tall wooden doors and were instantly
greeted by the maître d’ of the restaurant hidden within.

“Ah Mr. Maurello, so nice of you to join us again. Your
usual table?” The distinguished man slightly bowed his head.

“Yes, thank you, Harold.”

They were led to a secluded table near the back where they
would be assured some privacy. Jesse pulled one of the deep-brown leather
armchairs away from the table and offered her a seat, then casually strolled to
the opposite chair so his back faced the majority of the room and—more
importantly—the entrance.

Even though her parents weren’t super-famous, they had a few
friends who were. Sam recognized what Jesse had done by purposely seating her.
He was trying to remain mostly unrecognized.

Harold handed them each a menu and Sam hesitated before
opening hers. Jesse didn’t even know her name.

As the thought popped into her head, he snapped his menu
closed and stretched his hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Jesse. It’s a pleasure
to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She shook his hand. “Samantha
Raven…but please call me Sam.”

He slowly raised her hand to his lips, brushing his mouth
across the backs of her fingers. At the gentle contact of his lips on her skin
a spark traveled up her arm and headed southbound past her stomach. She lowered
her eyes with a smile, removing her hand from his and shifting in her chair.

“Would you like me to order for you?” He flipped open his
menu on the table.

“I’m accustomed to ordering my own food, thanks very much.
Besides, I intend on having the most expensive item on the menu. Those lollies
were priceless.” Sam laughed under her breath as that sexy smirk crossed his
face once more.

“Go right ahead. Order whatever you like. It’s on me.” He
propped one elbow on the table and rested his chin on his closed fist. He
ceased smiling, but his glistening blue eyes danced with laughter.

She opened the black leather folder and looked down at the
lines of fancy calligraphy flowing elegantly across the page, the weight of his
gaze warming her from the inside out. Such a pity she couldn’t read a word.
Finally giving up, she tossed the menu aside. “Ah…maybe I’ll let you order
after all.”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter when amusement flickered
across his face. “Just make sure it’s cooked and nothing of the slug variety.
You didn’t warn me this was a French restaurant. I don’t do well with snails.”

She sipped some water from the crystal glass while Jesse
returned his attention to his menu, a chuckle escaping his lips.

A waiter approached their table with two white linen napkins
over his arm, held against his waist. “Is sir ready to order?”

“Yes.” Jesse cleared his throat, darting a swift glance
across the table at her, a hint of that smirk returning. “We’ll start with Noix
au Roquefort for two, accompanied with a bottle of ’89 Muscat. Then the lady
and I will both have
poulet au citron
,
au miel et au thym
with a
bottle of your finest Beaujolais. Hmmm…and for dessert, I think we’ll have the
glace
au miel et au saffron
with a glass of Port.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter retrieved their menus and
tucked them under his free arm. Shaking out each napkin in turn, he placed the
fine, crisp linen across their laps.

The fluid hand action of the waiter amazed her. His
movements were so quick and precise the napkin sat perfectly arranged on her
lap. This place was certainly of a higher caliber than the restaurants she
frequented.

Sweeping over the elegant antique furnishings and crystal
chandeliers, her eyes fell upon the individuals seated closest to their table.
The room was full of money and people who made lots of it. She was a little
fish out of her depth, but quickly squeezed her apprehension aside, deciding instead
to enjoy the company this rock star was cheerfully providing.

“What are you thinking about?” Jesse crossed his arms and
leaned on the table.

She met his blue eyes and pondered her answer for a moment.
“I was just wondering what in the world you’ve ordered. I understood the drinks
part…though do you think it wise to mix drinks? I’ve already had champagne. Not
trying to get me drunk, are you, Mr. Maurello?”

She tried to re-create his sexy trademark smirk, but it only
melted into her own natural smile as she raised her glass of water to her lips.
She needed something to busy her hands. Butterflies flew a figure eight
marathon inside her stomach each time he looked at her and, to top it off, she
was
starving
.

Jesse gulped down the last of his water and set the glass to
his right, keeping his eyes riveted to her. “Okay, to answer your questions,
I’ve ordered appetizers that are kind of like tasty cheese puffs. If you are
going to eat like the French, each dish needs to be accompanied with a
complementary wine or Port. Roquefort cheese should be tasted with a sweet
wine. I prefer the Muscat. Wait until you try it, you’ll see what I mean.”

He straightened his arms out on the table and clasped his
hands.

“I see. Please…continue.” She mimicked him, placing her elbows
and hands on the table. She was intrigued.

“For the main course, I’ve ordered lemon chicken with thyme
and honey. It’s a classic French dish and goes well with a glass of
Beaujolais.”

She nodded. With each sentence he spoke his hands inched
closer to hers.

“As for dessert, you can’t beat their honey and saffron ice
cream with poached peaches. And for that, a small glass of Port is needed.”

As he ended his detailed speech, his calloused fingertips
brushed her hands. He slowly explored her palms with his thumbs, and then made
tiny circles near her wrists.

She raised her eyebrows. “Sounds delicious. You sure you
don’t work here?” His knowledge of the cuisine was impressive though it wasn’t
what she’d expected from this publicly renowned bad boy.

A flutter raced straight to her pussy as he locked his gaze
to hers, stroking her hands. His was such a simple light touch, but it sent her
heart racing nonetheless. It may have been considered quite innocent to an
onlooker, but the lust in his eyes and that cheeky smirk of his told a
different story.

“What can I say? I love my food. My dad’s a chef and he and
my mom have an authentic Italian restaurant in New York. Whenever I’m home,
you’ll usually find me there around dinner time. I’m the guinea pig of the
kitchen.” He paused for a few moments and released her hands as the waiter
returned to their table with the first course.

The stout man placed a white china plate of hors d’ oeuvres
between them and another waiter followed behind with their wine. He reached for
one of the clean wineglasses, but froze when Jesse raised a hand to stop him.
“Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

Jesse filled Sam’s glass halfway with Muscat, and then
proceeded to do the same for his own.

“Now take a bite of this and tell me what you think.” He
selected an encrusted puff off the plate and brought it to her lips.

She was hesitant to eat from his fingers. He was practically
a stranger, really. They’d only met an hour ago and already he was trying to
hand-feed her. Even during her fifteen-year relationship with Tom, she’d never
had a man place morsels of food to her lips. Tom would have disapproved. He
didn’t like to show much affection, especially in public.

She refocused on Jesse’s face as he coaxed her to take a
bite, gently brushing the hors d’oeuvre over her bottom lip.

What the hell. It can’t hurt.

She parted her lips and bit the appetizer in half. He smiled
and popped what remained into his own mouth. He seemed to enjoy watching her
eat, his eyes sparkling with liveliness as he fixated on her lips.

“They’re really nice. You did good.” She reached for
another.

He slapped her hand away. “Hold your horses, darlin’. Take a
sip of wine before you taste it again.”

She decided to humor him and did as he asked, but instead of
just a sip she drank a large gulp. As she brought her glass away, he held
another cheese puff to her lips. “Take a bite while the wine is still on your
tongue.”

She nipped at his fingers and he dropped the whole thing
into her mouth to avoid her teeth. They burst into laughter. Jesse licked the
tips of his fingers then splayed and fanned them back and forth near his
shoulder, pretending they’d been bitten.

“Think I’ll have to keep my eye on you. Not that that would
be a task, mind you, but a pleasure.” He bit his bottom lip, emphasizing his
amusement.

“You were right. The food does taste better this way. Not
just a pretty face, huh?” she joked.

Polishing off the small plate, they sat quietly, sipping
their wine. The short silences between conversations were not uncomfortable in
the least. In fact, the tension in her shoulders eased more and more with each
passing moment. She was no longer compelled to avert her eyes from his whenever
he intently held her gaze.