‘What’s so wrong with that?’ Noah asked with a shrug. ‘Maybe we’re not supposed to know the innermost depths of everyone we meet.’
‘Perhaps not. But...don’t you want that connection?’ Eloise had to admit she did. Which might be the reason she didn’t date so much. She hadn’t met many guys over the past few years she wanted to get to know that well. But that sounded a bit too much like conceding the point, so she didn’t say it.
‘Real and deep doesn’t mean for ever, Eloise.’ There was a harshness to Noah’s voice she hadn’t heard before. ‘The most real and important relationship of my life lasted barely twenty-four hours.’
She blinked. That was definitely new. ‘That must have been...intense.’ She couldn’t imagine it. From his tone she could tell that, whatever the relationship was, it had mattered—and mattered deeply. She couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to have that and then have it taken away again. What had happened? She wanted to ask but, before she could find a way to phrase the question, Noah spoke again.
‘It was.’ He flashed her a smile that was so at odds with the conversation Eloise wondered for a moment if she’d missed the joke. ‘Enough for one lifetime, anyway. Which is why I prefer things my way these days—fun, light and easy.’
‘And never getting in too deep,’ Eloise said, frowning.
‘That way you don’t drown,’ Noah joked. ‘I know when I’m out of my depth.’
She wanted to ask more, wanted to try and understand his attitude. Not to understand Noah himself, exactly, she realised, but to try and get some perspective on her mother. Was this how she’d felt? Or had she just been incapable of real love, as Eloise had always believed?
Maybe Noah was too. In which case, it was just as well she had no intention of getting any closer to him. A fling might be his sort of thing, but it wasn’t hers. It never had been.
And she was firmly ignoring the small voice at the back of her head whispering, How will you know if you never try it? Especially as it sounded exactly like Noah Cross.
‘So, who was she?’ Eloise asked, but Noah wasn’t listening any more. And, as she followed his gaze to the doorway, Eloise forgot what she’d been asking about.
Melissa stood in the entrance, arms wide, wearing a stunning forest-green gown that left her shoulders and a great deal of cleavage bare, before nipping in at her waist and following every curve down to her knees, where it flared out again.
‘Now that is not a boring dress,’ Noah murmured. ‘Of course, it would look better on you.’
‘Liar.’ Melissa looked as if she’d been born to wear that dress, and the smile on her face said she knew it.
‘It’s true.’ Noah pressed up behind her as the crowd gathered around the bride. ‘You have the height to pull it off—your legs would look endless. And that colour...made for a redhead.’
‘Maybe.’ But she’d never have the confidence to wear it. Not in a million years.
‘Of course, you’d have to wear your hair down,’ Noah added, touching the hundreds of pins that kept her hair firmly out of her way when she was working. ‘Which would be an added bonus.’
Clearly the guy had a thing for redheads. Which was funny because she’d never seen him with any on the red carpet.
‘I thought we’d established that we weren’t going to be having any sort of fling,’ she said drily. ‘I’m pretty sure that means you can stop with the compliments now.’
Noah shrugged. ‘I figured we could be friends instead. Friends compliment each other.’
Did they? Eloise wasn’t sure she’d know. But that might just be because Melissa had always been her baseline for friendship.
‘Friends?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Friends. Think you can manage it?’
‘I’ll give it a try,’ she replied drily. Friends with another Hollywood star. Hopefully this one would go better than her friendship with Melissa.
‘Everyone! My fiancé and I are just so delighted to welcome you all here to celebrate our wedding.’ Melissa beamed around the room and Riley stepped out of her shadow, looking awkward in a dinner jacket, and gave a little wave. ‘I hope you all have just the best time—’ She cut off abruptly, her smile replaced by a sudden scowl.
Eloise tried to figure out what had changed, and followed Melissa’s gaze to...oh, dear.
Dan had his arm around Laurel and, from where Eloise stood, she could see him staring up at Melissa, a challenge in his eyes.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Melissa asked, her hands on her hips.
‘Guess we weren’t the only ones who didn’t know about Laurel and Dan,’ Noah murmured as Eloise headed into the fray to smooth over the situation.
Playtime was over.
* * *
Noah sighed, putting the script to one side again, and wished that the curtains of the four-poster bed didn’t feel as if they were closing in. He had shut them to try and give himself a cosy cocoon in which to read through the script for Eight Days After again, looking for those deeper resonances he knew he’d need to hit to get the part. But instead he just felt trapped.
Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe this wasn’t the part for him. He was a good actor, he knew that. But this role...maybe it cut a little too close to home.
He thought back over his conversation with Eloise. Now there was a woman who believed in deep and meaningful. He almost wished he could just get her to explain it to him, so he could fake it well enough to get the part without ever actually having to feel it himself. If there was a woman in the world who could do it, Noah would place money on it being Eloise. There was something about her eyes, her expressions. The way everything she felt or thought was telegraphed out to her audience in her face. He could almost see the thoughts floating across her eyes, like subtitles on a foreign movie.
She didn’t think much of him—that was certain. Which was a shame, given his body’s automatic reaction whenever she was near—but also probably just as well, under the circumstances.
No, it was just as well they’d established the ‘no fling’ ground rules. Not only was he not in the market for it right now, but she was clearly out for love, marriage, the whole shebang. And he most definitely wasn’t. Noah wasn’t the sort of guy who’d let a girl carry those sorts of hopes into bed with her, even if it was the only way to get her there. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t worth it. He was always very clear about what he was willing to offer.
And he’d only ever offered more once. Only to have it all taken away twenty-four hours later.
Suddenly restless, Noah pushed the curtains aside and jumped off the bed, heading for the minibar.
He shouldn’t have mentioned Sally to Eloise. Oh, he might not have said her name, might not have gone into detail, but Eloise was the sort of woman who asked questions. She’d want to know more and, given how much time they were likely to be spending together over the next few days, she’d try her hardest to find out. Noah foresaw a lot of time spent sidestepping questions in his future. Good job he’d had all that fancy media training. Avoiding Eloise’s questions would be as hard as any interview he’d ever sat.
He supposed he’d started it. He’d wanted to play, wanted to pick at her secrets and truths. It was only fair she got to do the same in return.
Noah poured a healthy measure of whisky into one of the glass tumblers on top of the well-stocked refrigerator, then bypassed the sofa to head back to the bed, leaving the curtains open this time. He took a sip, savouring the burn of the alcohol in his throat. This was what he needed to focus on—the here and now, the current moment. Not a woman seven years dead, or the future he had lost that day.