Undone by the Star (9 page)

“I’d love to, if you’re sure she won’t mind.”

Alex laughed. “My grandmother? Nothing cheers her up more than male company. And you definitely fit the bill,” she added without batting an eye. “Grannie’s bored silly, poor dear, and even though she never complains, I think she’s still a bit uncomfortable.”

“Then I’ll do my best to distract her.” Marc knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he was just so pleased to be walking down the halls of The Sadler with Alex at his side. It felt completely natural…completely right.

When the elevator opened and they stepped inside, Marc leaned over and whispered, “I think you have to press the button at least four times to make it go.”

Alex’s eyes flew to his, ready to do battle, took one look at his face and then she choked back a gurgle of laughter. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Nope.” They faced forward, gazing at each other in the burnished reflection of the brass walls. The subdued lighting drew out the copper highlights in Alex’s hair, and the air crackled with tension. To deny their attraction was to deny nature. Marc breathed in deeply, trying to hold the essence of her within his lungs.

They stood silently, communicating in a million little ways, as the elevator hummed its way to the upper floors. A sudden jerk, followed by a grinding noise, and then…nothing.

“Damn,” Alex muttered. Her eyes instinctively rose again to meet Marc’s. He stared at her blandly, only a slight twitch showing his amusement.

“You don’t happen to know how to fix an elevator, do you?” Alex asked.

Marc shook his head. “No. Plumbing’s my specialty. This happen often?”

“Never,” said Alex. She felt flushed and angry. These things just didn’t happen at The Sadler. And they certainly didn’t happen to her.

“My advice would be to push every button in sight…repeatedly….”

“That’s not funny.” She felt close to tears.

“Hey,” said Marc softly. “It’s not the end of the world.”

She glanced up at his face. Mistake. Big mistake. “The…the fan doesn’t seem to be working either,” she managed.

Marc put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her toward him. “Are you sure that’s the problem?”

Without a second thought, Alex stepped closer, so that her eyes were level with his chin. He leaned down and brushed her forehead with his lips. Soft. Warm. The stubble on his chin rasping gently against her hairline, the bristles teasing the soft tendrils around her face. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and then Marc’s arms encircled her, pressing her hard against his chest, his mouth searching hungrily for hers. She gave a soft moan of desire, of contentment. Her arms reached up around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair. His lips pressed harder, parted, inviting, tongue teasing. Alex responded, offering everything, melting into him, breathing him, feeling him, and then.…

“
Miss Kirkwood? Miss Kirkwood? Are you in there?”
Jeremy’s voice echoed through the small space, shattering the air.

Alex froze, and after a stunned second pushed herself away from Marc’s arms.

Marc cursed softly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Jeremy.” Alex tugged her suit jacket into place. “The elevator stalled. What’s the problem?”

“
A circuit breaker tripped. It’s fixed now and reset. Just push the button and the elevator will start again.”

“Thank you, Jeremy.” Alex closed the intercom.

“Wait,” Marc muttered. His hand caressed the small of Alex’s back. She looked over her shoulder at him, feeling tears threatening to overwhelm her, and shook her head. “I can’t. Not now.” Frowning, he nodded acquiescence and released her.

All too soon the elevator pinged.

Eugenie Sadler’s eyes fluttered open at their approach. She was ensconced in a deep blue wingchair near the window with her legs resting on a matching ottoman and a cushion to support her injured ankle. A silk shawl was draped about her shoulders and she was surrounded by the memorabilia of a vibrant life, on the tables, walls, and the baby grand. It was both a picture of luxury and a private glimpse of a woman who had relished a full life. He adored her, Marc realized with a start.

Drawing on a role he had once played on stage, he crossed the room, took the elderly woman’s frail hand in his.

“Miss Sadler.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Mr. Daniels.” Her voice sparkled like champagne. “I see your ability to make a charming entrance isn’t confined to the screen.”

“You haven’t seen any of my movies, have you?”

“Not yet,” Miss Sadler said. “But Helen found you for me on the internet.”

“Grannie!” exclaimed Alexis. She’d come to stand beside him. “Where is Helen, by the way?”

“Gone to fetch my hot water bottle before the tea arrives.” She swung her attention back to Marc. “You will join us, won’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he replied. Women were fascinating at any age, thought Marc, following Alex over to a cream-coloured sofa. He sat down next to her, feigning disinterest as she wiggled closer to the corner. He gave her an innocent look. “Comfy?” he asked.

“Very.”

Helen had appeared with the hot water bottle, introductions were made, and then the tea tray arrived. Four cups, Marc noted. With tiny sandwiches, fruit and a sponge cake. “I haven’t eaten this well in ages,” he said accepting a plate from Helen. “I’ll have to jog around Hyde Park three times.”

She smiled in response, and the ice was broken.

One of his specialties, Marc thought wryly. He kept his audience in a ripple of laughter with tales of his misadventures in the film industry while they had their tea. He was careful to avoid Alex’s eyes. She had an uncanny ability to sense his next move which, at the moment was to find an unoccupied suite and finish what they had started in the elevator.

Timing was everything and theirs never seemed to work out.

“These are delicious,” he said, taking a cucumber and cress sandwich. “I haven’t had time to stock my kitchen yet. If it wasn’t for your chef and the coffee shops in Kensington, I would starve to death.”

He heard Alex snort beside him.

“In that case, have a tart,” said Alex smiling sweetly as she offered him the plate; her fingers brushed his as he took and then nearly dropped the delicacy. “Two can play this game, you know,” she murmured.

“My husband was very fond of these pastries,” Miss Sadler was saying. “He was in the foreign service, as was my son-in-law, Alex’s father, but The Sadler remained our home base.”

“For all of us,” Alex offered. “Especially when Mum and Dad were on the other side of the world, and Jamie and I were here at boarding school. Holidays were at The Sadler.”

A vision of a skinned-kneed Alexis tearing around the plush corridors brought a genuine smile to Marc’s lips. “I’ll bet you terrorized the place.”

Alex’s eyes twinkled, but she remained silent.

“And what about you Marc?” Helen stepped in.

“Upstate New York mostly, while my parents taught at several different colleges. A well-loved only child with a vivid imagination. Reading was a family pastime.”

“And do you still call New York home?” Miss Sadler eyed him keenly.

“I’m comfortable there,” said Marc, “but it’s not where my heart is.”

“And where is that?”

“Interesting question,” said Marc. He felt a surprising rush of emotion, and masked it by reaching for another pastry. Where was his home? Not the Hollywood condo; not the latest university town where his parents had settled in anticipation of their retirement. Was it England? He couldn’t help but look at the young woman beside him. As yet, home was an unknown, except maybe now he had a vague sense that Alex should be in it. “England,” he said firmly.

Alex set her tea cup down with a clatter. “We’ve tired you out, Grannie.”

“Nonsense,” came the reply. “I’m fine.” But Alex was already on her feet, coming towards her grandmother.

Marc rose as well. “I’m afraid I have to agree with your granddaughter,” he said to Miss Sadler. “Perhaps I may visit another time?” he asked.

“I’ll check my diary,” sniffed the matriarch.

“Grannie!”

“But things were just getting interesting.”

Marc went over to say “good bye”, and diffused the situation with a kiss on Miss Sadler’s powdered cheek. Mollified, she blinked back at him. “Don’t take no for an answer,” she whispered.

Alex was waiting for him in the corridor, chest out, hands on hips. On another occasion, he would have to tell her how sexy she was when she was riled. Instead he linked his arm in hers, swung her around and marched her towards the elevator.

“You’re playing right into Grannie’s hands. You know that don’t you!” she hissed trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Oh, come on, Alex…you’re the one who said she was bored silly.”

“Don’t Alex me!”

“Hey,” Marc tugged her to one side of an 18
^th
century armoire. “I was the one being interrogated, remember?”

The blood was pounding in his ears. Everything he’d ever wanted was in his arms. She didn’t give a hoot who he was, or how rich he was, or what he could do for her career. If anything, the opposite was true. The Sadler, as it had just become even more apparent, was her life, but she was missing the same thing he was. Someone to share it with.

And, after their brief exchange in the elevator, he knew in his heart that their feelings were not based on lust, their feelings were much deeper than that. Two grown-up people, at the turning points in their lives, were doing their best to avoid each other lest they upset the delicate balance they’d achieved.

And after three days of torment, hearing her voice, sensing her presence whenever he entered the hotel, he was wound tighter than a drum. “Alex…for once, I do not want you to say, ‘not here’. Because I desperately need to kiss you.”

Her lips parted.

She said nothing.

He lowered his head to hers.

It was heaven. Soft, swirling with a silky passion that spoke of love, and longing, not just for the joy of their physical attraction, but the excitement at finding a connection that promised both. He tasted her desire as he deepened their embrace, cupping his hand beneath her bottom and pulling her closer to him, savouring her response as she slid her hand around the back of his head and answered him in kind.

He wished it could last forever, but playing in the back of his mind was the fear of being interrupted. He might be frustrated by Alex’s scruples, but he had no intention of adding to her angst.

With reluctance, Marc disengaged. He gently nipped at Alex’s bottom lip until he realized he was driving them both mad with desire. Drawing back, he rested his forehead on hers. He could feel the heat rising between them, but he forced himself to ignore it.

For the first time since Alex had become the “face” of The Sadler, she’d thrown caution to the wind. Desire made him want to prolong the moment, but respect for this woman he so desperately wanted to be with, was far more important.

“I’ll take the stairs.”

Nodding mutely, Alex straightened her skirt.

He brushed her forehead with his lips. And then silently walked away, not looking back, not daring to damage the moment. He reached the stairwell, and ignoring the pounding in his heart and the throbbing in his veins, left her in peace.

Alex closed the office door behind her and leaned against it. Her cheeks were burning. She felt weak-kneed, weak-willed, and as giddy as a teenager. She heard a sliver of laughter and realized it came from her! Stuck in an elevator with the man of her dreams, how often did that happen in real life!

The stress of the last few days wasn’t going to magically disappear, she thought as she wandered over to the desk, but Marc had shown he understood her dilemma, and that alone was worth savouring. How many men either could or would try to understand that The Sadler was more than a business; it was her birthright.

She wasn’t even angry with her grandmother anymore, although Grannie had been a little too direct in her conversation with Marc. Eugenie Sadler might have been ahead of her time in many ways, but there was something very Victorian going on behind the scenes. And she, Alex, was part of the plan.

With a sigh, Alex sat down and began sifting through the papers on her desk. She worked her way through the various piles, prioritizing as she went and was, yet again, reminded of how heavy a load her grandmother had borne in recent years. Renovations, inside and out, were an ongoing problem, how to schedule them with the least disruption to guests and staff alike, and how to maintain a client base that always returned to The Sadler.

By the time Clare discreetly knocked on the door, and entered with a tray of sparkling water and biscuits, Alex was ready for a break. Her first board meeting was in two weeks. Her parents, and even her brother, were flying in, and she would be sitting in Grannie’s chair at the head of the table. No stress there.

“Shall I set the tray over here?” asked Clare indicating the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Get you away from that desk for a moment?”

“Good idea.” Alex straightened the stack of papers and put them to one side. “Did you see Grannie?”

“She was resting by the time I got up there.”

Alex smiled. “I’m not surprised. Our visit tired her out. I assume that was you who made sure the tea tray held enough for four.”

“T’was.”

Alex checked the time. “Shouldn’t you be on your way home?”

“Yes, but I just wanted to ensure that you had everything you needed.” Her assistant cleared her throat. “And to remind you about next week’s premiere.”

Alex froze. “The Funding of the Arts! It’s next week?” Her voice squeaked. “I’d totally forgotten about it.”

Clare shifted uneasily. “So did I, I’m afraid. But with all the upset….” She paused. “I sent in the usual acceptance, and now….”

“It’s up to me.” Alex dropped her head in her hands. She had no choice. The hotel was a major sponsor of the event, and had been for many years. And every time Miss Eugenie Sadler walked the red carpet, heads would turn, and fashion writers would describe her gown to the last detail.