Chapter Nine
Dina
We sprang back from each other at once, so quickly that I almost dropped my glass of champagne in the process. I didn’t recognize the person standing in the door, but it didn’t matter – they looked as though they’d just observed the most exciting thing they had ever seen in their lives. And, if they were anywhere near the gossip industry, they probably had. I didn’t dare look up at Will now that the moment was gone – I couldn’t believe that I’d allowed myself to get all swept along with it like that. After all I had told myself, everything I had promised, and now this.
“Sorry, sorry,” the man who had entered backed away as quickly as he’d come in, leaving us alone to deal with what had just happened.
“Uh…” Will turned to me, uncharacteristically quiet compared to how he usually was. It was like he couldn’t find the words to explain what had happened, and I knew precisely how he felt.
He moved back towards me, and every fiber of my being wanted to go along with it. But this wasn’t right. I couldn’t handle the way that people had looked at me all night – the knowledge that me, my dress, my attitude, would be analyzed by thousands of die-hard fangirls by the time I got my shoes off that evening. The thought of all of it was just…too much. I probably should have turned this down in the first place, but I couldn’t resist the chance to see how things worked out between us. I couldn’t play that game again. Leading him on was unfair, and I could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted me, maybe even more than I wanted him.
I held my hand up and placed it against his chest, stilling him in his tracks. He covered my hand with his, and pulled my knuckles up to his mouth, brushing his lips along them gently and looking at me with an expression that told me how badly he wanted this, wanted me. I frowned, brow furrowing as I tried to remind myself of what I had been so sure of just a second before. His lips were soft on my skin, his mouth warm and tempting and practically begging for more. I pulled my hand away, a Herculean effort, and shifted so that I was looking back out over the railing once more.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, and I nodded, not sure I could actually speak without coming out with anything that was complete garbage. He leaned over, and I could tell that this was his last-gasp attempt to get me alone with him. I couldn’t blame him if he felt even a crumb of the chemistry that I felt, he would have been stupid not to pursue it with every fiber of his being.
“You want to come back to my place?” He flashed me an oh-so-tempting grin. “Leave these guys behind. They’re boring the shit out of me now, anyway.”
Finally, I turned to him, looking him in the eyes and knowing that I had to deliver this next part with sincerity. I pulled up every bit of acting talent I had in me, all the stuff I’d picked up from working on movies for so long, and let out a long sigh.
“Will, it’s not…” I trailed off, the words stalling in my mouth almost instantly. “I like you. I do. I just think that I need some time…”
He held his hands up, not wanting to push me.
“Anything you need,” he replied reassuringly, reaching out to lightly touch my waist. I couldn’t help but smile. Who would have thought that a guy with a playboy reputation as intense as Will Derry’s would have proved to be such a gentleman in the face of rejection?
“Thank you,” I bowed my head, and felt a flush of nervousness ricochet through me. Why did I still feel the sweat in my palms, the blood thrumming in my head? I needed to get my shit together, to force all these thoughts of dragging him back to my place out of my brain, once and for all. I grabbed my champagne and drained it, and instantly realized that booze probably wasn’t the answer here, as I looked at him with a renewed sense of looseness. Shaking my head, I turned away.
“I should get going,” I announced to no-one in particular, and walked as quickly as my killer heels would allow away from Will and into the buzzy, social atmosphere of the party that was still taking place next door. Brushing straight through the crowd and towards the door, I thanked God for my complete anonymity without Will next to me.
No heads turned, nobody glanced in my direction – there wasn’t an ounce of attention paid to me as I made my escape, and thank God for that, because otherwise I might have had to explain to someone why I was leaving one of the hottest, most charming men in the world to spend the rest of the evening stag.
I dumped my glass on the bar as I went by and hurried for the door, flagging down a cab outside and hearing the flurry of clicks of cameras as the paparazzi waiting outside for a scoop mistook me for someone who actually mattered. I slipped into the back seat, gave the driver the address of my apartment, and leaned my head back against the leather, heart thumping in my chest. I had to stop doing that. I seriously had to stop doing that.
Because it felt as though I had escaped some inevitable doom – not that going to be with Will would be anything close to bad, but because I knew I shouldn’t do it. I knew I’d regret it if I ended up spending a night with him, because he was the kind of guy every woman wanted something to do with, and the kind who would never be able to resist the lure of something or someone new.
And I was…I was starting to feel something for him. Not a lot, not love, but more than lust, more than just attraction. Watching the way he had worked the room, the way he had gone from struggling with an investor down to soaring with a socialite on his team, was incredible. He was passionate, intelligent, talented – in almost any other situation, I’d be throwing myself at him, but something was holding me back and I couldn’t put my finger on precisely what it was.
Fear of being hurt? Worry about our affair affecting my place on set? Panic that the industry wouldn’t take me seriously if it found out that I’d been running around with a movie star? So many times, back home, people would make cracks about me getting into this job so I could get my hands on any number of sexy men who populated the industry; the last thing I needed was to prove them right by hooking up with the most high-profile one.
I arrived back at my apartment, pulled off my shoes, and carefully hung up the dress to deliver back to Irina first thing tomorrow. I wasn’t sure whether it was the champagne or Will that was making me feel as giddy as I was, but a combination of the two had me practically bouncing off the walls as I tried to get ready for bed. How was I meant to sleep when I knew I could have been sleeping with him? I could have woken up next to him, strolled around in one of his shirts, made him breakfast…
And then what? A little voice in my head added the last part. I’d get to play house, but after that, where did we go? Back to set, where everyone would know what had happened between us? Or would he kick me out, embarrassed to be seen with me now that his conquest was won? Was he only chasing me as hard as he was because he was used to getting everything he wanted and was thrown by the fact that I didn’t seem all that interested in him, or that I blew hot and cold seemingly at random?
I flopped back into bed and stared up at the ceiling. Why was I getting so up in my own head about this? Ninety-nine percent of the time, I was pretty cool about dating – I didn’t really give much of a damn one way or the other how things turned out, as long as I was happy. But for some reason, Will Derry had me running circles in the dirt, trying to figure out what I actually wanted.
When it came down to it, I just couldn’t handle the scrutiny. Even the way people had looked at me when I was at that gala was enough to tell me that being out with Will made me a person of interest in a way that I’d never been before in my life, and I kind of hated that level of attention. What was I meant to do with it, the knowledge that everyone in the room likely wanted to take me aside and ask me how in the hell a chick like me had landed one of the hottest men on the planet?
I flipped on to my side, the night already tinged by my panicked overthinking, and closed my eyes. How many days of shooting left? Twenty? Thirty? It wasn’t all that long to wait, and I was a grown-ass adult who didn’t have to throw herself head-first at every guy she thought was cute. As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a new surge of resolve. Yes, I would stick to my guns and keep Will at arm’s length. I could do it. It’d be easy now that I had made the decision. And I managed to stick to my guns – well, until the night two weeks later.