‘Apparently so,’ she agreed. ‘But I’m sure I’ll be far too busy with all the wedding arrangements—’
‘Oh, I doubt it,’ Noah interrupted, but he still didn’t sound entirely happy about the idea, which surprised her. Perhaps she’d misread his flirting earlier. Maybe he really was like that with everyone and, now the reality of having to spend time with her had set in, he was less keen on the idea. ‘Melissa has quite the packed schedule for the wedding party, you know. She’s right—you’re going to have to find someone to take over most of your job here.’
Eloise sighed. She did know. She’d helped Laurel plan it, after all.
And, now she thought about it, every last bit of the schedule involved the maid of honour and the best man being together.
Noah smiled, a hint of the charm he’d exhibited earlier showing through despite the frown, and Eloise’s heart beat twice in one moment as she accepted the inevitable.
She was doomed.
She had the most ridiculous crush on a man who clearly found her a minor inconvenience.
And—even worse—the whole world was going to be watching, laughing at her pretending that she could live in this world of celebrities, mocking her for thinking she could ever be pretty enough, funny enough...just enough for Noah Cross.
Eloise felt the blood drain from her head as she gripped the edge of the reception desk to try and conquer the dizziness that overcame her at the idea.
Ten years on and Melissa Sommers had just delivered her into hell all over again.
Perfect.
‘YOU LOOK LIKE you need a drink.’ In Noah’s experience, that was a good line with stressed out women. But in this case it wasn’t a line—well, it wasn’t just a line. Eloise looked as if she might keel over at any moment. Her already pale skin had faded to the same white as the expensive sheets on his four-poster bed and her bright eyes were huge in her face. Most women he knew would have loved to have been tagged to play maid of honour for Melissa Sommers, and few of them would have objected to spending more time with him as best man either.
But Eloise, he was learning quickly, wasn’t quite like all the other women he knew.
Maybe he couldn’t indulge in the sort of fun he’d planned with her—not if he wanted that part, and he did. But they were going to be spending a lot of time together, it seemed. The least he could do was help her out, and get to know her a bit.
If not in quite the way he’d like...
‘I’m fine.’ Eloise’s voice was faint and not at all believable.
‘Sure you are.’ Noah didn’t bother hiding his sarcasm as he took her elbow. ‘Look, at least come and sit down for a few minutes.’
‘With you?’ Eloise’s gaze shot to his face, then she shook her head and looked away again. ‘I’m working. I can’t sit down and I definitely can’t drink.’
‘Yeah, well, you look like death—no offence. So you kind of need to do something if you don’t want to scare the guests.’
Eloise scowled at him, a little colour finally coming back into her cheeks. ‘If I’m so terrifying, why aren’t I scaring you away?’
‘I don’t scare easily,’ Noah said. ‘Haven’t you seen all my horror movies?’
‘No,’ Eloise said, but he was pretty sure she was lying. Maybe she was a closet star-struck fan. Except in that case he’d kind of expect her to be nicer to him. ‘Look, I’m fine. I just need a moment alone.’ She stepped away, towards the other side of the lobby. Noah followed, pausing at her side as she fiddled with the latch on the glass doors that led out to some sort of terrace. ‘You don’t need to watch me, you know.’
‘You’re nice to watch,’ Noah said with a shrug. Looking was still okay, right? Looking was discreet. He hoped. ‘It’s not exactly a hardship.’
‘I meant...I just need to get some air.’
‘Fine by me,’ Noah agreed. Then he followed her out onto the terrace, ignoring her heavy sigh.
‘What is it with you?’ Eloise snapped as he shut the door behind them.
‘Me? Nothing at all. You, on the other hand, looked like you were about to pass out, all because some blonde asked you to wear a pretty dress. I mean, I know it’s probably stupidly expensive, but still. Formalwear doesn’t usually cause fainting fits, in my experience.’
‘Yeah, well, clearly you’ve never experienced formalwear around Melissa Sommers before.’ She stalked to the edge of the terrace, leaning on the stone wall as she stared out over the river beyond. Noah gave her a moment then rested his arms beside hers, enjoying the view.
Despite the bitter cold, the air felt fresh on his face, waking him up after a long night of travelling. He felt...alive, somehow, in this place. More alert, more open to the world around him.
Or maybe that was the anticipation of his video call with Stefan, the director of Eight Days After. It was strange, but it felt as if that script and this place had become intertwined in his mind, as if being at Morwen Hall would help him become the actor he needed to be to do the part justice.
‘Why are you following me around?’ Eloise asked eventually, after long moments.
‘Honestly? I’m not sure.’ Noah shook his head, trying to make sense of it himself. ‘There’s something about you. The moment I saw you this morning, I wanted...’ He broke off.
‘I’ve seen the photos and read the reports,’ Eloise said drily. ‘I know what your sort wants when it comes to women.’ Of course she did. Because, apparently, he wasn’t at all discreet about that. He wondered what people would make of the truth—that most of those women on his arm were there to be seen, the same way he was. Often, that was as far as things went.
Noah gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Reports of my promiscuity may be greatly exaggerated. Besides...that wasn’t what I was thinking.’
Colour flooded Eloise’s cheeks, the pink clashing with the vibrant flame red of her hair. ‘Of course not. I didn’t mean...I wasn’t assuming that you wanted to...’
Time to put her out of her misery. ‘Not because you’re not attractive. You’re gorgeous.’ Her cheeks turned a deeper pink at the compliment. ‘And don’t get me wrong. I’m totally planning on flirting with you some more later.’ If he didn’t at least flirt, the world’s media would think he was sick or something, and that publicity could be even worse. Maybe.
‘You mean you’re not now?’ If she thought this was flirting, he could have totally snowed her if he had the chance. He sighed at the idea of the lost opportunity.
‘Right now, I’m just making sure you’re okay. And wondering what the deal is with you and Melissa.’
‘That’s why you’re following me around? Because you’re nosy?’
‘Not nosy exactly.’ Men weren’t nosy, were they? Curious, perhaps. Nosy was for old ladies and people on the neighbourhood watch. ‘I just...you intrigue me. And I can’t explain why. Except that maybe it has to do with this movie I might be making... Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I’m interested. I find myself wanting to know more about you, which is unusual for me, I assure you. But, since I do... I’m a good listener, really. If you wanted to talk about why the idea of being Melissa’s maid of honour makes you want to throw up or pass out, I’ll listen.’
‘You mean you’ll stand there until I tell you, whether I want to share or not.’
‘Basically, yes.’
‘Great.’