“Sorry,” Holly said firmly, “I love this outfit, but I draw the line at cartwheel hats.” She looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled. “You’re right...it’s absolutely, perfectly…perfect.”
An hour later, bathed and perfumed and dressed in the beige sheath, Holly was almost ready. Jamie had left, off to get his new restaurant ready to open its doors; so Chaz had agreed to stay and let Ciaran in while she got ready.
“Keep him waiting,” he informed her. “It’s never good to appear too soon. Take your time.”
“Right,” she agreed, and lifted her brow. “Leaving you to chat – alone ‒ with the object of your affection in the meantime.”
“Whatever. Go get ready.”
Ten minutes after Ciaran arrived, Holly took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. The sound of Chaz’s voice drifted down the hall from the tiny hotel sitting room.
“‒so pleased to meet you last night,” he gushed. “Like I said, I’ve seen all your movies, except that last one about the veterinarian. It didn’t do so well at the box office, did it?”
“No,” Ciaran said a trifle stiffly, “but it earned me a BAFTA nomination. Rather proud of that.”
“As well you should be.”
“Listen, I don’t mean to pry, but...do you and Holly live together?” the actor asked, puzzled.
Chaz let out a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. “God, no! I just offered to stick around and let you in while she gets ready. Her fiancé’s normally here,” he added, pointedly, “but he’s working.”
Chaz glanced up as Holly appeared in the doorway. “Holly – there you are. Mr Duncan’s been waiting, and very patiently, I might add.”
Ciaran stood up, and his eyes swept over Holly from her ladylike heels to her upswept blonde hair. He blinked. “You look stunning, Miss James. And very grown-up.”
“Thank you,” Holly said. She could barely form a coherent sentence at the sight of Ciaran, so handsome in his impeccably tailored suit. “Shall we go?”
“By all means,” he agreed, and held out his arm. “First, we’re off to have lunch at The Russian Tea Room.”
“Excellent choice,” Chaz approved, “if a bit...touristy. But that’s the point, isn’t it?” he added hastily as Ciaran cast him a flinty look. “Have a blini for me. And enjoy yourselves!”
“Thank you,” Ciaran replied. “I solemnly promise to have her back before midnight, Mr Williams.”
Chaz shook a finger playfully. “See that you do.”
They emerged from the Midtown Hotel and onto the busy sidewalk five minutes later. “What’s this?” Holly asked as Ciaran drew her towards a black Lincoln Town Car waiting at the curb. A chauffer in a peaked cap and gloves slid out from behind the wheel and held the rear door open for Holly.
“Our limo,” he replied. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
“And generating the most publicity possible at the same time,” Holly couldn’t help adding. She glanced at the gleaming black vehicle and back at Ciaran, who was already attracting a knot of onlookers. “This should definitely do it.”
Without another word, she slid onto the back seat and made room for Ciaran, and they were off.
“I thought we’d go for a carriage ride around Central Park. After we have lunch,” he added firmly. “I’m really hungry.”
She looked over at him and smiled. “I’m impressed. The Russian Tea Room...a chauffeured car...”
“And the pleasure of my company,” he finished as he grinned at her. “What more could a girl want?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Holly said as she settled back and the car glided into the stream of traffic headed towards West 57th Street. “A little humility, maybe?”
“Humility is vastly overrated, Miss James. Spend enough time with me, and you’ll soon agree.”
Well, Holly couldn’t help thinking, if this is a typical day out with a film star...I could certainly get used to it.
The Russian Tea Room was as rich and opulent as the inside of a Fabergé egg. They were escorted to a quiet table in the back, where Ciaran ordered appetizers of caviar and salmon gravlax; for their main course they had the most amazing Chicken Kiev. Dessert was a shared plate of cheese and cherry blinis topped with vanilla ice cream.
“That was incredible, Ciaran,” Holly said with a sigh as she pushed her plate away. “Thank you.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” he assured her as he stood up and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
New Yorkers – being New Yorkers – noticed the famous British actor and his date, but pretended they didn’t. Holly saw the covert glances cast their way as they left, and the excited whispers behind hands. She suppressed a smile. Thank goodness she’d listened to Chaz and worn this outfit. As always, he was right – otherwise, she would’ve looked like an over-dressed teenager in the publicity photos their outing would generate.
“Where will we go after our carriage ride?” Ciaran inquired as he slid in next to her on the back seat. “We’ve all of Manhattan at our disposal.” He nodded imperceptibly at the driver, and the car glided forward.
“Well,” Holly said, studying the colorful blur of taxis as they flashed past the Town Car’s tinted windows, “we could take a walk through Times Square.”
“We could,” he agreed. “But I’d be mobbed. Perhaps instead,” he added as he leaned forward, his eyes intent on hers as he took her hand, “we could go back to my hotel room, and get to know each another better.”
Holly stared at him, her lips parted in outrage. “Mr Duncan!”
“Kidding,” he said, and laughed as he let go of her hand and relaxed back against the seat. “Your expression was priceless, Miss James. What would you have done,” he added as he glanced at her in amusement, “if I’d been serious? Would I have lived up – or should I say, down – to your already low expectations?”
She glared at him. “You would’ve ensured that I’d never watch another one of your silly rom-coms again. Especially not the one about the English veterinarian,” she added.
“Indeed?” He wore a hurt expression. “What about the one where I meet the store owner’s beautiful daughter, but I can’t get past her initial bad impression of me?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen that one.”
“It’s a good one, actually, one of my best. Except–” he leaned forward once again, and reached out to tilt her chin gently up to his “–I don’t know how it ends, yet.”
Then he was kissing her, and his lips were warm and persuasive, and all of her resolve...dissolved. A kiss was just a kiss...unless it was Ciaran Duncan doing the kissing. Just as she almost lost herself completely in Ciaran’s arms and the heated dazzle of his lips, reveling in the scent and taste and feel of him, she pulled away.
“We have to stop,” she said, her voice shaky. “I can’t do this, I’m engaged. And this isn’t a date.”
His expression was contrite. “You’re right, and I apologize. It’s just that you’ve bewitched me, Holly,” he said huskily. “But I promise I’ll be on my very best