When he didn’t answer, she looked across at him. There was a decidedly dangerous twinkle in his eyes that stopped her heart. She’d seen that look a hundred times and it couldn’t be from any movie. Why did he seem so familiar?
“Yes. I had a mishap with a dress shirt last night. Could you please arrange a replacement?” He opened his door and climbed out, then leaned back in to look at her. “Enjoy your date, but don’t stay up too late. We work pretty long hours in the movie business and you don’t want to burn yourself out.”
She nodded and he closed the door. He remained at the hotel’s front entrance until she disappeared from sight. Only then did her gaze leave the rear-view mirror.
“What do you mean you have a job?”
She hadn’t been sure Stefan was listening but now she knew she had his undivided attention. “It’s just a temporary thing, to help out my father.”
This was her ace. Stefan admired her father, though his respect was tempered with a healthy dose of fear.
She flipped her mobile to her other ear and reached for her wine glass. She’d never needed a drink as much as she did tonight. It had certainly been a rollercoaster twenty-four hours, and the crash course Anna had given her in how to be a PA had left her with a nagging headache.
“Are you working with him in Intelligence?”
Trust Stefan to find that impressive. She sighed. “Not exactly. I’m hand-holding a visiting celebrity.”
“Anyone I know?” There was a moment’s pause and she could easily picture Stefan on the other side of the line running through the list of visiting dignitaries – US state senators, ambassadors…
She sighed. “I doubt it. He’s an actor called Christian Taylor.”
Stefan whistled.
“You’ve heard of him?”
“Of course I’ve heard of him. Who hasn’t? That film where he single-handedly saves an entire city from terrorists was awesome.”
Awesome? She frowned. “I didn’t know you liked action movies.”
She worried her lip, pleased she hadn’t Skyped and he couldn’t see her face. Maybe knowing someone all your life didn’t mean you really knew them. And their courtship had been something of a whirlwind…
She shook her head, shaking off the niggling feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She was just tired, and there was still so much to do. When the wedding was over, this terrifying feeling of being suffocated would go away. She sipped her wine.
Stefan laughed into the silence. “I don’t work all the time. And spending as much time away from home as I do, sometimes the only way to relax is to tune in to a mindless movie.”
Mindless. Her point exactly. “What was the name of that film?” she asked.
“I can’t remember. Does it matter? I’ll check the internet for you… ” and that was Stefan, always willing to make the extra effort.
“It doesn’t matter.” She’d made her point. That was the thing with a movie. A couple of years later and the viewers could barely remember its name.
What Stefan did was much longer-lasting. As a policy consultant for Westerwald’s foreign affairs ministry, he had the power to shape the future, to affect people’s lives. Just as her father did, as the Archduke did. This was the world she was raised to be a part of. The world where what people did mattered.
Not the frippery world of make-believe in which people believed in their own importance and chased shallow dreams. And when those dreams couldn’t deliver, they invariably ended up dead. Or worse.
“He has a terrible reputation,” Stefan said.
“Who does?” Tessa asked, trying to back-pedal through her scattered thoughts.
“Christian Taylor. Apparently he’s something of a magnet for women.”
She shrugged. “I guess I can see the attraction.”
“Should I be worried?” though Stefan didn’t sound in the least worried. Another of the things she loved about him. His faith in her. And she trusted him. He was steady, dependable, rock-solid. They were going to make a good team.
“I don’t know. Should I be worried about what you’re up to in the Big Apple?” she teased back.
“Never.” There was a smile in his voice. “It’s just back-to-back meetings. I can’t wait to get home. And I promise when I return I’ll have something from Tiffany’s for you. It can be your something new for the wedding.”
She smiled. If there was one thing she knew about Stefan it was that when he made a promise, he stuck with it. He was noble down to the core. He would never let her down. He would never abandon her.
“I look forward to it,” she said. “Take care.”
Christian was so not a morning person. It usually took a cold shower and two espressos before he could even think straight. So it was a surprise when his alarm sounded and he opened his eyes without swearing.
For the entire decade and a half he’d been in the movie business, even when he’d still loved what he did, every morning had been a battle to get up and ready for set.
It was getting harder these days. What had Teresa said to him the night they met? When you’ve seen one action movie, you’ve seen them all. Her words had cut deeper than Dominic’s sword blade because he’d begun to feel the same.
All the movies he’d made had begun to merge together into an indistinguishable mass. He needed a new challenge. He just didn’t know yet what it was.
He rolled his legs off the bed and sat up. Maybe the fact that he’d gone to sleep stone-cold sober made the difference. He and Dominic had gone out clubbing, but his heart hadn’t been in it. He’d left the club before midnight. Alone. Something else his heart hadn’t been into.
He must be getting old.
He stood up and padded over to the windows, flinging open the heavy curtains. Beneath him, the gardens lay dark and silent. This city had more green space than any European city he’d visited before.
He looked up. The sky was still dark but clear, with the crisp, wintry feel he so loved about Europe. And he could see stars. That was the one thing missing in LA – the kind of stars you had to look up to see.
The night sky was the only thing he remembered fondly about Los Pajaros – that vast, empty sky with the entire Milky Way on display. How many times had he looked up at that sky and wished for another life? He’d got it, too.
He hadn’t been home to the Caribbean since he’d left as an angry kid. Had it changed as much as he had? In four short weeks he would find out.
He turned away from the window and headed to the bathroom, resisting the urge to dive back into the warmth and comfort of the vast hotel bed.
Once he’d showered, he dressed in jeans and a rumpled sweatshirt, stuck a beanie on his head, grabbed his coat, and headed downstairs.
He was early.
Teresa was earlier still.
She sat at one of the tables in the elegant dining room, sipping tea from a porcelain cup. There were no other hotel guests in sight.
And on the table before her stood the double espresso he’d instructed her to have ready and waiting. He should have been pleased. But instead, the unusually good mood he’d woken with evaporated at the sight of her.
She