Starstruck, p.2
Starstruck, page 2
My God!
Her entire body tingled with excitement and her eyes hadn’t even reached his face yet.
Get a grip, girl. He’s a man, remember? So what if he’s buff? The better they look, the cockier they are.
She braved another look just in time to see the corner of his mouth rise. He’d slipped off his sunglasses and, going by the quiet laugh that escaped his lips, found her reddened cheeks quite amusing. She had the sneaking suspicion he may have also noticed where her eyes had lingered.
He caught her gaze and held it.
God, he is just…insanely beautiful.
His face was smooth, freshly shaven and there was strength in his high cheekbones and perfectly symmetrical jawline. The slight dimple in the bottom of his chin was more pronounced when he smiled, revealing brilliant-white straight teeth. His seductively shaped lips curved a little to the left and the imperfection made him even more attractive. His sandy-blond shaggy hair peeked out from beneath his New York Giants baseball cap. Her fingers twitched in her lap and she fought an odd, overwhelming compulsion to touch, to confirm whether those locks were as soft as she imagined.
“Hope you don’t snore.” His grin turned sly. “I need sleep before we land.” He turned and flopped into the seat in front of her and to the right.
Sam fished a gumball from the open packet and pegged one straight at his head. The moment it left her hand she realized what she had done, but it was too late to take back.
She gasped when the candy bounced off his baseball cap, glided through the air and popped down the front of the attendant’s blouse just as she walked up the aisle.
Emily flinched and strode straight to the man in front of Sam.
“Can I trust you to behave at least until we take off, Mr. Maurello? I believe this is yours.” She laughed quietly, handing him the lolly from the front of her bra.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good, Em, promise. How’s Nate? Is he treating you like the princess you are?”
“Yes, thank you, Jesse. Eight months in and we’re still on our honeymoon. He’s just wonderful.” A moment later, the laughter left her eyes. “Ah, I was really sorry to hear of your latest news. Just broke my heart.” She offered him a consoling smile.
“Don’t sweat it, Emily. I’m doin’ just fine, really.”
A few minutes passed before Sam registered who the man in front of her was. She should have recognized his face sooner. Jesse Maurello—lead singer of the rock band Jerico and Charli’s favorite rock star of all time. Her friend had posters of him and his band plastered all over her bedroom walls when they were teens, and Charli was still obsessed with the man even though she was thirty-one. If only she could see Sam now. Sam would love nothing better than to rub this into Charlotte Dwyer’s face.
She brought her attention back to Jesse, lazing in his seat. He’d taken ownership of the lolly she’d thrown at him and thankfully hadn’t made a scene. In fact, he went about his business as if nothing had happened, not even glancing her way after Emily left the cabin through the thick blue curtain.
Sam sat silently, pondering her childish spontaneity.
What the hell. I’ve already embarrassed myself.
She leaned forward until she was close to his ear. “Thanks for not ratting me out,” she whispered. “Sorry about the flying missile. It slipped from my fingers.”
He turned his head and looked at her through the gap between the seats, taking off his baseball cap. “Sure it did,” he grumbled.
Her eyes widened and she fumbled for words to return, but he put her out of her misery when the corner of his mouth turned up in a wicked smile. “Let’s just say you owe me one…and I’m confiscating the candy. You can’t be trusted.” He rose over the back of his seat and swiped the bag right out of her hand. “This flight might actually be fun.” He popped a musk stick into his mouth and sat, facing the front of the plane.
Sam stared at her now-empty hand in disbelief.
Did he really just do that?
The chuckle inside her belly started low and soft, and the more she tried to hold it in the worse it became. She let out a puff of air, followed by a roll of giggles, and when she tried to take a breath she snorted and sputtered a riotous guffaw.
Passengers nearby glared at her, apparently not amused with her less-than-first-class behavior. She held her stomach and managed to get her laughter under control, letting out a slow, satisfied sigh. She hadn’t laughed in quite a while and it was as if a magic button had been pushed, releasing all the tension she’d bottled up.
Jesse chuckled quietly but continued to face forward, allowing her to deal with her embarrassment in peace.
“Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” a rich, melodious voice spoke through the intercom. “I’m sorry to report severe snowstorms have descended near Heathrow Airport and all scheduled flights have been grounded until further notice.”
The voice droned on, but she stopped listening. Her mood had fired back up to level “pissed”.
Great!
Just when she thought she’d be able to get some shut-eye. At least her first-class tickets came with admission to the private lounge inside the airport.
Sam grabbed her coat and the bag containing her laptop from above and quickly exited the plane.
* * * * *
Jesse scanned her from head to toe as he stepped into the aisle behind her and they shuffled toward the open door of the plane. He soaked in her curves, her wavy blonde hair and the way her tight butt swayed ever so gently beneath her fitted dress pants.
Damn, the woman has a sexy walk. No arrogance about her at all.
Her reaction earlier had amused him and he was curious to find out if there was anything behind those bright emerald-green eyes. In his extensive experience with women, he’d discovered the pool was pretty shallow. He rarely found brains behind beauty. And she was a natural beauty. He found that enticing in itself, a far cry from the kind of women he usually bedded. Starlets and groupies had been his main diet for over eighteen years. Quite frankly, he was sick to death of those women. Shallow, materialistic…airheads even. Stunningly beautiful, yes, but airheads all the same. He was looking forward to re-boarding the plane and continuing his banter with this jewel-eyed vision.
He quickly put on his jacket and curled the collar up around his neck, replacing his cap and sunglasses as he left the plane and headed toward the private gate reserved for VIPs. Being a well-recognized rock star had its perks—like never having to wait in line…anywhere.
* * * * *
Sam hadn’t bothered to put on her jacket for the short walk, but now regretted her haste. She shivered, holding the edges of her black woolen sweater closed tightly together at her chest. Good thing she’d taken her hair out of the French chignon she usually donned when in business mode. It provided a small amount of warmth to her neck and back as she quickened her step.
The heat from the fireplace in the center of the room made her shudder with delight as she entered the elaborate lounge. She wound through the crowded tables to a stool at the bar and placed her bag and coat on the vacant seat beside her.
“I’ll have a glass of champagne, please.” She nodded to the bartender who placed a folded napkin in front of her. She didn’t ordinarily drink champagne, but she had never flown first class before either so it seemed fitting for the occasion.
A wave of lightheadedness swept over her. Nearly 7:00 p.m. and she hadn’t really eaten since breakfast. She looked up when her drink arrived and thanked the dark-haired man serving her. His aura slowly changed from pale pink to a clear red. This usually meant one thing—he was interested in more than just filling her glass. He was handsome enough, but she wasn’t searching for love.
He winked, a playful smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Just give me a holler if you’d like anything else and I’ll come runnin’.”
She returned his smile and his eyes brightened, his blazing aura vibrating around him before he hesitantly stepped away to serve another customer, glancing back at her over his shoulder.
She’d been out of the dating game so long, she wasn’t sure she even knew how to flirt anymore. Though in the name of harmless fun, she was more than willing to give it her best shot. Couldn’t hurt…right?
She and Tom had been together since she was sixteen and he was eighteen. He’d been the only serious boyfriend she’d ever had. As a thirty-one-year-old woman in the prime of her career, she didn’t need a man to be successful and had decided since arriving in London last week she would focus most of her energy on her job. Tom and Charli could go to hell. Sam was officially single and it was high time she injected a little spontaneity into her life.
Just thinking about dating again made nervous tension flutter around in her stomach, but a few innocent flirtations with a man she had no hope of seeing again was okay…wasn’t it?
Swallowing the champagne in one gulp, she beckoned the bartender with a wave. He came running just like he’d promised and placed a fresh glass in front of her. As he poured her drink from the chilled bottle, his gaze followed her every move.
She fidgeted in her seat before clearing her throat. “Would you have a piece of paper I could write on?”
He opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut and happily obliged, sweeping his hand underneath the bar and emerging with a small notepad and pen.
“Thank you so much. That’s perfect.” When she accepted the items from his hand, her finger unintentionally brushed his palm and he gave her a silly grin. She shot him a wink this time and he chuckled, running his fingers through his dark hair.
Huh. Perhaps flirting wasn’t so difficult after all.
* * * * *
Jesse Maurello quietly sipped his red wine, slumped in the dimly lit corner at the far end of the bar. He’d kept his eyes riveted to the woman from the plane since the moment she walked through the doors at the other end of the private lounge. And he wasn’t the only man in the joint who had her full attention. Her stride swiveled the head of every Y chromosome she passed, though her admirers’ adoration was wasted on her.
Her eyes were set straight ahead, black-heeled boots quickening when a couple vacated two of the high-backed barstools.
Surely she knows how beautiful she is…doesn’t she?
He could’ve sat and watched her for hours, though there was one part of the picture he would have liked to erase. The gravitational pull the bartender seemed to have toward her made Jesse’s good mood spike with irritation. The younger man’s eyes barely left her, even when he tended nearby patrons. If Jesse were canine the ridge of hair on his back would have been standing on end, a growl of warning rumbling deep inside his chest.
When the bartender moved farther down the bar, finally leaving her the fuck alone and getting back to doing his actual job, Jesse was able to relax and enjoy the untainted view.
The fair-haired goddess leaned forward and rested her elbows on the bar, her eyes cast down to the notepad in front of her. She slowly twirled the black pen balanced between her index and middle fingers, her brow slightly furrowed.
It would have been cute had she not glanced up, had he not witnessed the great sorrow that swept into her eyes before she tilted her head and placed pen to paper. The lump that rose in his throat took him by surprise.
A wave of her long hair crept over her shoulder and fell across her cheek, a golden curtain of silk obscuring his view. His agitation built every second her flawless face remained hidden, but she didn’t torture him for very long and for that he was grateful.
She kept her writing short and then quickly tucked her wayward locks behind her ear before tearing the page free and folding the paper several times. When she’d finished fiddling, she had something resembling a small makeshift pouch.
She placed it beside her drink and then brought the back of her hand closer to her face, staring at the ring on her finger—her ring finger. After a minute or two, she suddenly attacked her own hand, pulling and twisting at the ring, her lips pursed tight with frustration when the band wouldn’t slip easily over her knuckle.
She won the battle in the end and it brought a sweet, satisfied smile to her lips.
I wanna make her smile like that.
After dropping the ring inside the paper pouch and closing the flap, she rummaged through her bag and produced an envelope. She tucked the small package inside and addressed the front before returning her attention to her champagne.
Jesse decided then and there he wanted to speak to her again, sooner rather than later.
Chapter Two
The rock star from the plane walked the length of the mahogany bar in her direction. And with his every step in those sexy-as-hell boots, her heart raced a little faster. She stared straight ahead at the mirrored wall when he maneuvered between the two empty stools beside her and held his index finger in the air, prompting the bartender his way.
The dark-haired man walked quickly back in their direction but stopped in front of Sam. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Don’t happen to have a mailbox under that bar of yours, do you?” She unleashed what she hoped was a cheeky grin, picking up the envelope and waving it back and forth.
“No, but the airport does have a mailroom. I’d be more than happy to add this to tomorrow’s outgoings for you.” He plucked the envelope from her fingers and flashed a seductive smile before addressing Jesse. “What can I get you, my friend?”
A hint of recognition flashed in the bartender’s eyes, but he didn’t let on if he knew who Jesse was.
“I was wondering if you could find out when my flight will be re-boarding. I’ll be in the dining room, if that’s okay.” As Jesse relayed his flight number, she wished for somewhere to hide, not quite over her embarrassing encounter with him earlier.
“I’d be happy to find out for you, sir.”
Jesse slowly turned toward Sam, so close she couldn’t ignore him any longer without appearing rude. She turned her head to the right and was met with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She could have sworn they weren’t that blue on the plane.
Looking at him now, she understood why Charli was so infatuated with him. He was not only insanely good-looking but carried an air of confidence that exuded pure sex appeal. He’d aged extremely well considering the lifestyle he surely led. Father Time had been very kind to this man…very kind indeed.
With a mouth suddenly as dry as the desert, the best she could summon was a shy smile. She sipped from her glass and averted her eyes back to the bar. What in the world had possessed her to throw a lolly at the man’s head?
The bartender disappeared through the doorway near the wall of shelved spirits. He couldn’t have been gone more than sixty seconds before he returned, but to Sam those moments seemed much longer. She was all too aware of Jesse, still standing in her personal space, and couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him.
“If you would like to go on through the double doors at the back, Mr. Maurello, they will lead you into the private dining room. I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as I have the information on your flight.”
“Thank you.” Jesse handed the bartender a one-hundred pound note.
“Thank you, Mr. Maurello.” The man pushed the crisp note into his apron pocket, nodded appreciatively, and then rushed off to serve a customer at the far end of the bar.
She sensed Jesse’s eyes on her skin…and her suspicions were confirmed with another glance in the mirror behind the bar. His unabashed gaze lingered on her throat before lowering to the opening of her blouse. Her nipples were unusually responsive, tightening almost to the point of pain, her skin prickling just beneath the surface.
If his eyes alone were capable of drawing such a strong reaction from her, what could he achieve with his hands?
The old Sam—committed and loyal to Tom—would have allowed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pass her by. She would have offered a forced smile and an air of disinterest, so attuned to Tom’s dislike of other men giving her this kind of attention. But she was now free to take the initiative and make a move of her own, let Jesse know she wasn’t opposed to continuing their banter while they waited for their flight.
Gathering her courage—and her wit—she finally faced him again. “Nice tip. You’ve made his day, I’m sure.”
He tilted his head back and laughed. “I think his day was done, darlin’, when he got that wink out of you. I was hoping you might let me buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do considering I stole your sugar haul.”
Jesse smirked again, the one where his lips curled more to the left. He leaned closer, placing his chin on his knuckles as he put his elbow on the bar. His eyes shifted over her face and the corner of his mouth twitched as she digested his invitation.
Did he just invite me to dinner? What planet am I on? Shit, he’s still looking at me…say something fast before he changes his mind!
“I’d like that.” She sipped the last of her champagne. “But only if you promise to keep your hands off my plate. I’m an only child. I don’t like to share.”
“Ah, feisty, beautiful and a sense of humor. I’m impressed.” He casually raised one eyebrow as he held out his arm in invitation for her to join him.
“Who says I’m joking?”
“Darlin’, I promise to keep my hands off your plate…but that’s all I’m promising.” He grinned.
She grabbed her bag and leather coat and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm as he led the way to the dining room.
They walked through the tall wooden doors and were instantly greeted by the maître d’ of the restaurant hidden within.
“Ah Mr. Maurello, so nice of you to join us again. Your usual table?” The distinguished man slightly bowed his head.
“Yes, thank you, Harold.”
They were led to a secluded table near the back where they would be assured some privacy. Jesse pulled one of the deep-brown leather armchairs away from the table and offered her a seat, then casually strolled to the opposite chair so his back faced the majority of the room and—more importantly—the entrance.
