About the Authors

Having tried a variety of careers in retail, marketing and nursing LOUISA GEORGE is thrilled that her dream job of writing for Mills & Boon means she gets to go to work in her pyjamas. Louisa lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, two sons and two male cats. When not writing or reading Louisa loves to spend time with her family, enjoys travelling, and adores eating great food.

Born and raised just outside of Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. After the birth of her second child, Amy was lucky enough to realise her lifelong dream of becoming a romance author. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer, she’s a mum to three wonderful children who use her as a personal taxi and chef.

After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her awakening. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters toward their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing, Robin’s life is filled with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.

Hot Docs on Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs

Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc

Louisa George

Perfect Rivals…

Amy Ruttan

The Prince and the Midwife

Robin Gianna

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09716-1

HOT DOCS ON CALL: HOLLYWOOD HEARTTHROBS

Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A. Perfect Rivals… © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A. The Prince and the Midwife © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Perfect Rivals…

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

The Prince and the Midwife

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

About the Publisher

Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc

Louisa George

Behind the scenes...

Top-of-his-game neurosurgeon Dr. Jake Lewis has thrown himself into work in a bid to forget the past. Now, used to high-octane medical emergencies, he’s furious to be temporarily assigned to pander to LA’s biggest diva!

Yet when he meets headstrong assistant-to-the-stars Lola Bennett, their instant chemistry makes his new job much more tempting! He’s working with her on set in the sultry Bahamas, and it’s just a matter of time before that chemistry reaches the boiling point...

To my Zumba buddies Jackie, Sue, Roisel,

Yenny and Avril, I can’t think of a better way

to start the day than dancing and having fun

with friends. I’m very lucky to have you guys

in my life. Thank you xx

CHAPTER ONE

‘LOLA! WHERE ARE YOU? Lola!’ The sing-song screech came from inside the trailer.

Outside the trailer, Lola Bennett came to a halt and took a long calming breath. When that ran out she took another one. And...

So, it seemed calm would be eluding her today.

Behind her she heard muttered grumbles between the director, the assistant producer and the leading man. Irrational though it was, she felt guilty that the woman who employed her was ramping up the film budget and delaying filming because of mild stomach cramps, no doubt brought on by an overdose of her large kale and wheatgrass breakfast smoothie.

Lucky, Lola told herself. Dream job. Steps to the stars. Foot in the door...

Phooey. Being personal assistant to A-lister Cameron Fontaine was probably some poor misguided soul’s dream job, but for Lola the constant demands were fast turning into a nightmare. Sometimes she thought the waitressing job had been preferable...but then all she had to do was look around her and breathe in the hallowed Hollywood air, see the actors going over their scripts—scripts like the one she was working on—and feel the shiver of excitement course through her. And she knew she was exactly where she wanted to be: Los Angeles. She was here, finally here. The only place on earth where she could achieve her crazy, wild dreams. The City of Angels.

All would be well, if only Cameron Fontaine could be remotely angelic. Once? Too much to ask?

‘Lola!’ Clearly there was nothing wrong with Miss Fontaine’s vocal cords.

‘Yes, Miss Fontaine?’ Lola swung open the trailer door, letting the heavily perfumed air—a perfect blend of cedarwood, frankincense, sandalwood and lemon balm aromatherapy for clarity and focus today—disperse enough for her to enter without risk of asphyxiation. Then she took a risk and stepped in, with her usual fixed smile. It would all work out well. Smile and work. Smile and work. ‘Hello! I hope you’re feeling better? Here’s the paracetamol you asked me to get. And your single-shot decaf latte with cashew milk.’

‘You are such a honey.’ The leading lady lay on the white leather couch, a hand at her brow, and gave a brave me smile. Lola had seen her working on that particular grimace in her large gilt bathroom mirror more than once. ‘Tell me, sweetie, what’s the gossip from the set? Are they panicking yet? I’ll bet that old maid of a director is sweating. Tell them I’ll be out soon. I just need to get my strength back.’

‘Maybe you should eat something solid, rather than just juicing?’

‘You’re joking, right? I have to get into this teeny costume every day for the next few weeks.’ Cameron mopped at her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘And get hold of that doctor...what’s his name? Kim? Get him on the phone. Tell him I need to see him again.’

‘Oh?’ Maybe Cameron really was sick, instead of acting or just plain attention-seeking? Before taking this job, Lola had seemingly been the only person in the whole world who had had trouble trying to work out the difference between her boss’s award-winning talent and her award-winning time-wasting. She’d stopped short of calling her a diva, but that didn’t stop the glossies naming her as one. Having got to know her a little more, Lola was reframing Cameron as a hard-working actress with high standards, who wasn’t afraid of asking for what she wanted. She could learn something from that. Although the diva did sometimes take centre stage. ‘Of course. Yes. I’ll get him right away.’

First, she cracked the seal on a fresh bottle of mineral water and poured it into a glass tumbler.

‘Lola, what are you waiting for? Phone him.’

‘I’m getting you a drink so you can take your tablets. Let’s get them into your system and starting to work.’ It was going to be a very long day, and Lola would be very glad when she fell into bed later with a good book to whisk her away from the reality of her life. Which hadn’t turned out exactly how she’d hoped. No studio had optioned her script, no director had even read it so far. More than once she’d thought about returning home to London...but she needed to give herself a fair chance here, not risk the humiliation of going home and admitting she’d not just failed, but lied to her family too. And, God knew, even though some days she hated it, she needed to keep this job to pay the exorbitant rent on her shabby apartment. And eat. ‘Would you like me to get the studio nurse? She’s here and available, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind—’

‘A nurse? A nurse? Honey, I’m award-winning. I need a doctor. I need that Kim doctor.’ And with that Cameron closed her eyes. Conversation over.

Lola observed her for a few seconds. It didn’t need any kind of medic to see that the actress was in fine health. Her blonde hair shone, she was beautifully pink, breathing normally with a small secretive smile on those camera-ready lips. But Lola was nothing if not dutiful. She pulled out her phone and dialled.

‘Hello!’ She’d been briefed by Cameron to always converse with a smile in her voice. ‘Is this The Hollywood Hills Clinic? Yes? Great! I have Cameron Fontaine here and she needs to see the doctor. Wait, I’ll just ask.’ Lola cradled the phone to her shoulder and whispered, ‘Is it an emergency, Miss Fontaine?’

A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose on a serene, pain-free face. ‘It depends what they mean by emergency. I would like to see a doctor—so, yes, they should act quickly.’

‘But is it a matter of life or death?’

‘I suppose...’ A reluctant pout. A dramatic pause. ‘Not really.’

‘Are you dying, Miss Fontaine?’

‘Oh. No. No. Of course I’m not dying. But don’t tell them that, obviously.’ Cameron sat up elegantly and straightened her space desert warrior costume, putting little strain on the perfectly honed abdominal muscles that had been on the front of every magazine last month as she’d frolicked in the waves in Hawaii—while Lola had been left in LA to supervise a spring clean of Cameron’s Bel Air home, take the dogs for grooming, organise a lunch for fifty for Cameron’s return...yada, yada...

Lola sighed—inwardly, of course—and spoke to the receptionist. ‘Please ask him to come as soon as you can. Thank you...I will, yes.’ Lola passed along the message. ‘The doctor will be here soon. He’s in the middle of a surgery, but will pop over when he’s finished.’

‘Pop over. You’re such a sweetie. Say it again...’ Cameron gave a real smile now. ‘Say it again.’

‘Pop over.’

‘Pop! Oh, my, I do love your English accent. Just heavenly. Teach me?’

‘Yes! Of course!’ Clearly, whatever ailed Miss Fontaine would have to wait. But Lola had no doubt that the pain would resurface at exactly the same time as the doctor.

* * *

‘Excuse me, Dr Lewis, there’s another call for you.’

‘Another one? Not now,’ Jake Lewis barked across the OR at his surgical assistant. ‘I told you, I don’t want to know until I’ve finished here.’

‘But it’s the studio. They won’t—’

‘Not now.’ Jake sucked in the antiseptic air and steadied himself. Refocused on his patient, a nineteen-year-old quarterback with a diagnosis of type-two neurofibromatosis: an incessant ringing in his ears, increasing left-arm numbness and a sudden penchant for falling over. All pointing to a large tumour on his vestibular nerve, which had been confirmed by scans.

With enough luck and Jake’s skill, the boy might well be able to catch and pass a ball after this surgery. He would, hopefully, also be able to hear again—although, he might not. He would also probably never fulfil his lifelong dream of playing at a high level in the NFL. The disease process was slow, but there wasn’t always a great prognosis long term. This kid’s future was on the line and someone wanted Jake to see an actor about, what—an irritating cough?

And, yeah, maybe he was being an assumptive ass, but in his experience there hadn’t ever been a need for a neurosurgeon on a film set during the normal day-to-day scheduling. Emergencies—yes. But this wasn’t an emergency, they’d said so already. The first time they’d called. And the second...

The assistant hesitated, the phone still in his outstretched hand. ‘But...they...you...’

‘Didn’t you tell them last time? If it’s an emergency they need to call 911 and I’ll meet them in the ER, otherwise I will be there as soon as I’ve finished this complex neurofibroma surgery. If they don’t understand what that is, explain, in words of less than two syllables, that I’m a brain surgeon, and ask them to guess what I’m busy with right now.’

When James Rothsberg had head-hunted him for his Hollywood Hills Clinic it had been the biggest boost to Jake’s career, the opportunity to work with the very best California had to offer. And it had promised a decent living with money to spare to pay back his parents every cent and more for the sacrifices they’d made for him. Money, too, to pay for healthcare for his father’s failing health.

That they wouldn’t accept a dime from him was another issue altogether, along with the fact that even though Jake worked in one of the best hospitals in the state, his father refused to set foot through the door. Not that it stopped Jake from trying. Again. And again.

But the job came with the proviso that he’d fill in when necessary on the clinic’s film studio roster. In extremis. And Dr Kim’s sudden and necessary absence due to family problems meant they were in extremis. He’d have to live with it, along with all the tender egos who demanded nothing less than a qualified doctor to apply a plaster.

‘Okay, everyone. Back to work, concentrate, this is the tricky bit. We have to...’ he manipulated the probes ‘...isolate and expose the tumour... There it is... Pretty tough guy, this one, will take some clever dissecting...’

Three hours later, after a distressing conversation with his patient’s parents, when he’d tried to be as honest and hopeful as he could about the boy’s future, Jake pulled into the film studio, showed his security pass and was directed to the set.

Seriously? His whole life he’d been working towards neurosurgery and now, just because one of his colleagues was away, he was here. In... The spool of annoyance on repeat in his head jerked to a stop. He looked around. Stared. What the hell? Outer space? The set was a mock-up of a crashed spacecraft on a sandy planet. All around him were creatures with three eyes or two heads and, strangely, holding very Earth-like guns... Plus a lot of cables that could easily trip someone up, and a few worried-looking humans huddled around a large film camera, watching something on a screen.

‘Hey?’ He stopped a man carrying a ladder as he walked by. ‘Cameron Fontaine? Where can I find her? I’m the doctor. She rang, more than once, to request my assistance.’

‘In her trailer. Again. Out there, take a left.’ The man pointed wearily across the set and beyond. ‘Biggest trailer, you won’t miss it. Do us a favour and wave a wand, bring her back? They’re all going nuts here.’

Jake wandered through the set and out into a car lot where there were around a dozen trailers. One, in the far corner, was very definitely, pointedly, larger than the others.

‘Excuse me? Can I help you?’ A very cross English voice, out of place in...outer space...had him spinning round. The owner was another angry-looking human with wild fiery red hair that appeared to match her bad humour, and a smattering of freckles in a pale complexion. It was the frown that stood out most, though.

‘I’m looking for Cameron Fontaine. She called for me. I’m Dr Lewis.’

‘You’re the doctor? But you’re not Kim. She usually sees Kim.’

Believe me, lady, I don’t want me to be here either. ‘Dr Kim is away at the moment. I’m the fill-in. For the duration of filming.’ But he’d be having words with James when he eventually got back to the clinic. Surely someone else could do this? Someone less busy, less qualified, someone who actually cared about all these Hollywood theatrics?

The woman in front of him shook her head and the mass of red curls bobbed around her shoulders. Man, her hair was shiny, and she had dark chocolate eyes that were huge and...condemning. She was wearing a top that was a similar colour to her eyes. And why he even noticed that he had no idea. Standard issue black skinny jeans clung to... No, he wasn’t going there. He was not going to look at her and assess her attractiveness like everyone else in this city where looks were king. No doubt she was just the same kind of blinded-by-the-lights airhead wannabe actress. She was pretty enough. Not like the tall willowy brunettes that breezed in and out of his life, but there was something about her that set her apart. A fragile beauty.

So, okay, he had a quick peek and she had a damned fine body. Curves. Something you didn’t see often around here. Nice curves.

And a disappointed glint in her eyes that made him feel as if he’d let her down. ‘Well, that’s just perfect. Brilliant. We’ve been waiting for you for hours and everyone’s starting to get very grumpy and for some reason it’s all my fault and you’re not even the right guy.’

‘Whoa.’ It was fine for him to feel bummed out about this, but no way was it okay for her to join in. ‘I can leave right now, if you prefer. I have plenty of real patients to keep me occupied.’

‘No. No. No. Stay right there. You’ll have to do. The director’s getting on my back, Cameron won’t go outside, and we all need her seen as soon as possible. Please.’ Her eyes narrowed for a moment. Then she seemed to pull herself together. Smacking her lips, she clasped her hands in front of her as if steeling her nerve. She found him a smile. It wasn’t terribly convincing, but it was there. ‘Sorry. I’m Lola Bennett, Miss Fontaine’s PA.’ He could have sworn she also uttered the word ‘dogsbody’ under her breath, but he couldn’t be certain.

‘Jake Lewis. Neurosurgeon to the stars. Apparently.’ He stuck out his hand.

Which she took in hers and gave a short firm shake. Her hand was warm and petite and just touching it gave him a weird jolt through his skin. She looked down at where their hands touched, then back at him with a question in her eyes. Then she blinked. ‘Okay! Well! Let’s do our best, shall we? Miss Fontaine’s trailer is right here. Be warned, though, she may not be exactly chuffed to see you.’

‘Chuffed?’

‘Sorry, I mean pleased. Delighted. English, you see. As in I’m from England... Obviously you speak English too...just a different sort...’ And then she smiled for real, the chocolate eyes blazed and her mouth curled into a pretty curve. Which had a very strange but real effect on his cardiac rhythm as he followed her into the trailer.

He put it down to the whole bizarre scenario, the extra-terrestrial vibe, the raised blood pressure caused by harassment during complex surgery. The drive through relentless traffic. It was nothing to do with the very talkative Lola Bennett, of that he was sure.

‘Hello!’ There was a forced joy to her voice that was just a little panicked as they stepped into the trailer, and for a fleeting moment Jake felt sorry for her. ‘Miss Fontaine? The doctor’s here!’

‘About time too. Kim? Oh, Kim, I’m so glad—’ The beautiful blonde actress Jake had seen on billboards around town and on movie screens countless times sat up and glared. ‘You’re not Kim.’

Lola was by her side in a second, talking as if to a small child, eagerly soothing and endlessly optimistic. ‘No, Miss Fontaine, this is Dr Lewis. Jake. He’s here to see you. Dr Kim is away at the moment.’

‘Well, bring him back. I can’t see...’ she waved her hand at Jake as if shooing away an irritating dog ‘... Jack here.’

‘It’s Jake,’ Lola said smoothly, as she offered a silent apology to Jake in the form of a shrug and a roll of the eyes. ‘He’s from the clinic, so he’s bound to be good. Excellent, I’ll bet.’

Unable to take this fawning any longer, Jake stepped forward. ‘Miss Fontaine, I’m Dr Kim’s stand-in. There is no question of bringing him back. What’s the problem?’

‘I can’t discuss it with you. Kim knows everything.’

‘Oka-a-ay. It’ll be in your notes then? I’ll remote-access them from here.’ He put his laptop bag on the table next to her and unzipped it. Pulled out his computer and fired it up. ‘Please be assured that I am bound by the same confidentiality as Dr Kim. I am as capable as he is.’ If not more so. And more highly qualified. ‘If you can just tell me what’s wrong, then we can try to fix it.’ Soon. And, yes, he realised his tone was just a little annoyed. But he had very sick patients, a young man with his whole future in doubt—his whole life—and instead of being where he was needed, he was here. Doing this.

The actress began to shake and blink quickly. ‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I need health advice and I have the wrong doctor in my trailer, that’s what’s wrong. Please go. Now. I won’t see anyone but Kim.’

What the hell? ‘I can assure you—’

‘It’s Kim or no one.’

‘Then it’ll be no one. He’s not going to be back for months—’

‘So go.’

Jake bit back a curse. ‘I came all this way and you won’t even let me talk to you? Just like that?’

‘Just like that. Now go.’ And with a final flourish she flung herself back against the cushions and closed her eyes. He presumed this meant that the consultation was over.

‘Sorry to have wasted your time,’ he growled, not sorry at all as he slammed down the laptop lid, snatched up his bag and stalked out of the door. Wasting her time? Wasting her time? His fist curled around the bag handle as he strode back towards the set. What a joke. He was definitely going to talk to James about this.

‘Dr Lewis? Jake? Wait, please.’ That English accent again. He swivelled on his heel. Lola was standing at the bottom of the trailer steps, wringing her hands. ‘How about I find you a cup of tea? Would that help?’

‘I doubt it. It certainly won’t get me the last hour of my life back.’

‘But it might help to sit for a while. Calm down before you head back into the traffic.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s almost rush hour, it’ll be a nightmare.’

‘I think I’ve just had one already. Tell me I’m going to wake up soon.’

Lola raised her shoulders. ‘She has a habit of changing her mind.’

‘So do I. From right this minute. I’m not coming back. I’m not surgeon to the stars.’

‘She may ask to see you again. Soon. Like in five minutes.’

‘I’ll be busy. With patients who actually want my input and expertise. I have better things to do with my time than pander to hypochondriacal celebrities.’

But for some reason he couldn’t really understand, he followed Lola towards a truck dispensing snacks and drinks and waited until she’d ordered two English breakfast teas. Tea—the great soother of tempers, according to the Brits. No serial or costume drama was ever made where the mention of tea didn’t happen at least twice. He hated it.

Then, taking the tray of drinks, he let her lead the way to a marquee and a plastic table and chair set-up. Lola looked dejected while desperately trying not to appear so. ‘I’m so sorry, Jake. Can I call you Jake? Or do you prefer Dr Jake? Dr Lewis?’

‘Jake’s fine.’

‘She’s a bit temperamental, she’s spent her life telling people what to do. And they do it. Just like that.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘I’m guilty of doing it too—but, then, I get paid to. She’ll come round, you just have to let her calm down and think logically.’ She bit her bottom lip, gave a conciliatory smile that lit up her eyes and whispered, ‘She will, eventually.’

‘Whatever she pays you isn’t enough. Leave. Get another job.’ So it was curt, but damn...how could Lola let her boss talk to her like that?

The smile and the light vanished. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘It’s not healthy to be around self-obsessives. Actually, it’s really not worth it. Just because you want to be noticed, a career in Tinsel Town, right? She’s your ticket? Actress, right? Like all the others who come here because they want the bright lights. It’s not worth it, Lola. Find another job. That kind of person will suck you dry, drive you mad.’

Now Lola frowned, eyes wide. ‘And this is your business because...?’

Good question.

He didn’t usually make assumptions and feel the need to sort someone else’s life out. In fact, he usually steered as far away as possible from involving himself in anyone’s life. Particularly women’s. The only thing interfering had ever achieved was a damned headache, and sent out a message that he cared...or was interested...or wanted to commit. He wasn’t. He didn’t. ‘I’m just saying, there are better careers than being someone’s assistant or a Z-list actress. Most don’t get very far anyway, it’s only the top tiny percentage who can make a living at it. If you want my opinion—’

‘Actually, I don’t. But thanks for making my day a whole lot worse.’ She stared at the steam rising from her tea, then stirred two packets of sugar into her cup. Which was refreshing, because most women he knew in this city would rather have eaten dust than sugar. It was the new axis of evil...or something. She looked dejected, and there was a simmering behind her eyes that signalled danger.

There was also a cloud of coiled anger hanging over them and, if he was honest, it was probably due to him. He’d started off this whole debacle in a lousy mood and things had got worse from there. If she was right and Cameron did ask him to return, it would help if he smoothed things between them. Plus, he didn’t want word of this to get back to James, who was insistent that all patients be treated with kid gloves...and that was usually Jake’s mojo. The patient came first—always. But also...and this was the weirdest thing...he felt bad at adding to Lola’s troubles. He’d seen a glimpse of her smile and, strangely, he wanted it back again.

‘Lola—’

‘Oh? There’s more? Which part of me do you want to pick apart now? You’ve done my job and my pathetic-sounding future—how about you move on to my face or my body?’ The joy in her voice had been replaced with irritation. The happy bounce that had seemed to live in her bones—gone. Yes, she was pissed at him. Very. No one ever spoke to him in that tone, and there were flashes of gold sparking in her eyes now. It was...well, it was all very interesting. She leaned forward, waving her teaspoon at him. ‘You don’t know the first thing about me but somehow think you can storm in here and give me life advice?’

‘Er...’ He began to explain. ‘It’s—’

But she jumped right on in. ‘Well, seeing as we’re handing advice out so liberally today, let me give you some, Dr High and Mighty. I don’t care who you are or what qualifications you’ve got, you don’t get to condescend me as if I am worthless. And you don’t get to make assumptions about anything I do or who I am. Okay? I was trying to be nice to you because she can be a bit of a B-I-T-C-H. And I totally understand how you can be angry with her for being a diva too—and now I’ve said it and I promised myself I never would—because she is a very good actress and she can be thoughtful sometimes. Rarely, but it does happen.

‘I thought a cup of tea and a chat would help because in my experience they usually do, but you know what? Forget it. There are plenty of doctors in Los Angeles who would give their right arm to be here in this privileged position, doctors who care. Who want to help. Who are actually nice. So I’ll go phone one of them, shall I? I think we’re done here.’

And with that she scraped her chair in the gravel and stood. Her previously pale face was now a bright beetroot red. The sunny smile a mere figment of his memory. And to his chagrin, he realised Lola Bennett had done what no woman had ever done to Jake Lewis—she’d brought him to a point where he had to chase after her and grovel.

CHAPTER TWO

‘LOLA.’

God give me strength. Some days she really, really wanted to change her name. She hesitated on her path back to the trailer, slowed and then stopped, wishing her burning cheeks would cool down. The doctor may well be dashing and delicious to look at with his cropped dark hair and startling blue eyes, and so what if he had a body that the leading man on set would die for? Jake Lewis was a pompous jerk in a suit and she didn’t want him to think he’d got the upper hand.

But he was the only doctor here so she needed to be nice to him because finding another one might take another couple of hours. And she was pretty sure Cameron would change her mind, again, and insist on seeing a doctor before the day was out. So Lola was stuck between the two of them trying to find a happy place. ‘Yes? What now?’

Dr Lewis’s lips twitched at the corners, but he kept his distance. ‘You didn’t finish your tea.’

‘I don’t want it any more, thank you.’ She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, she really did, but it shone through regardless.

He stepped forward and beckoned to her. ‘But I’m told on good authority that it might help. And it’s going cold.’

‘So?’ She stuck her hands on her hips and waited for his apology.

‘So, they’re going to clear it away if we don’t go back.’ The jerk jerked his head towards the canteen seating area. Two forlorn cups sat on the empty table. And, God, she was parched. With all this running around she hadn’t had a chance for a drink in ages. Dr Lewis just carried on as if an apology was the furthest thing from his mind and that he hadn’t just insulted her every which way he liked. ‘Come on, come back and finish it before they take it away.’

But no way would she sit with him again until— ‘No, Jake, I’m waiting for an explanation.’

‘I see.’ The twitch at the mouth turned into a thin line as he pondered her words. He really was very lovely to look at—but, then, so was everyone in LA, even the set carpenters were beautiful and always screen-ready. It was like living in a magazine or on an episode of Entertainment Daily.

This guy, though, he had an arrogance that shot through the better-than-good looks, a haughty jaw and a manner she didn’t particularly understand—it was as if he really didn’t want to be here. Who wouldn’t want to be surrounded by all this wonderful Hollywood chaos?

She tapped her foot. ‘Still waiting...’

‘Ah. Well, I haven’t ever waited tables, Lola, but I think it generally works like this: when customers leave a table—or rather stomp away—it indicates that they’ve finished and it’s okay to clear their used cups away.’

‘Too clever for your own good.’ She couldn’t help the smile. ‘And I didn’t stomp.’

His gaze ran from her face, down over her body and lingered a little at her backside. Which made her face heat even more. Her stomach suddenly started with a strange fluttery feeling and she wondered if she was coming down with the same thing as Cameron.

He nodded. ‘You so did. Little angry stomps.’

‘Condescending too? Great.’ He’d been watching her that closely? ‘Well, it’s hardly surprising given the circumstances. And I meant I’m waiting for an explanation of why you were so rude.’

‘Oh.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘That.’

‘Yes. That. An apology would be nice.’

He actually looked surprised, as if saying sorry was something he’d never ever thought about, let alone done. But he walked back towards the table and she felt intrigued enough to follow him. She just about caught his words, more of a mumble really. ‘I apologise if my words upset you.’

‘Not sorry you said them. Not sorry you jumped to conclusions. You’re just sorry I was upset? Where did you learn the art of apologising?’

‘You’re supposed to learn it? Is that what they teach in British schools? The art of apology?’ He stood at the table while she sat down—no doubt a play for power. ‘Figures.’

‘By which you mean?’

He lifted his cup to his mouth and took a sip. Grimaced. Put it back down again. ‘Look, things got a little heated back there. I think we need to start over.’

Hallelujah. Because she didn’t dare face Cameron and admit she’d scared the doctor away. Even if he did deserve it. ‘Yes, yes, we do.’

‘Excellent. First things first.’ He turned and walked over to the café truck, chatted briefly with the chef—even laughed! Laughed. The man had a sense of humour...but clearly had no intention of sharing much of it with her. Then he returned with a steaming cup of coffee. He sat, sipped and smiled. ‘Great. Now, where were we?’

‘You don’t like tea?’

‘No.’

‘So why didn’t you say anything before?’

‘You ordered and assumed I’d want it. I was being polite. It is possible.’ He leaned back in his chair and smirked. ‘I admit, I was an idiot.’

Still no I’m sorry. Interesting. ‘To be honest, Cameron can be difficult. I have to bite my lip an awful lot.’ She didn’t tell him about how she screamed into her pillow when she was so frustrated and utterly exhausted by her demands, or had fantasised about a jellyfish attack on that Hawaiian beach, while she had been knee deep in doggy-do with three over-excited, totally over-pampered Chihuahuas at the grooming salon.

An eyebrow peaked. ‘So why do you stay?’

‘Have you tried to get a job here, with everyone else all vying for something in the industry? She pays reasonably well—although it’s long hours. And because she’s the closest I’ve got to a film director since I arrived here. That’s my target, really. The longer I’m with Cameron the more I’ll meet the right people. I need her. I need this job. I know that sounds mercenary, like I’m using her, but I really need the contacts and exposure. Does that make me a bad person?’

He looked at her for a moment or two, and again she felt a strange rising sensation in her stomach, a need to look away but a compulsion to keep staring into those bluest of blue eyes. ‘Lola, I don’t know you, but from what I’ve seen so far I couldn’t imagine you’re a bad person. A little full on, maybe—’

‘My dad says I’m a chatterbox.’

‘I’m not commenting on the grounds that I may incriminate myself further.’ But he gave a wry smile in agreement. ‘Basically, you’re just doing what everyone else does—feathering your own nest. Making things work for you. It’s the way of the world. It’s why I’m here instead of back at the clinic, or back in Van Nuys, where I grew up. Networking, making connections. How are you going to get on in life if you don’t use your contacts?’

Well, that certainly made her feel a little better. Although he’d clearly given it a lot of thought and justified it all down the line. Was he one of those true workaholic types? Or was he just completely self-focused?

She’d met a lot of people like that here—really, she’d thought she was highly ambitious, but her over-achieving tendencies paled into insignificance compared to those of some of the men she’d met. The ones who had stood her up because of a last-minute audition and hadn’t bothered to call her and had left her sitting in a bar, like a lemon. Or who had used their in-between-jobs actor badges to repeatedly make her pay for everything on dates. Or—the very worst—the one who had slept with her as a way of getting to meet Cameron. That one had really stung. She’d fallen heavily for that guy and all he’d wanted had been an introduction to her boss.

Her love life had taken a serious dive since she’d moved here, and now she was totally off dating anyone. Definitely. It was going to be just her and her scripts and, she thought with a sigh, Cameron and her three little Chihuahua babies.

Having drained his coffee, Jake gave her a small smile. ‘So you’re an actress, then?’

‘No. God, no. Although I did study drama from being about three years old and did my time on stage at university, but I fell in love with words, creating characters. Making things up. I’m a writer. Screenplays.’ What a buzz to say that out loud. Finally...finally! She’d escaped the endless expectations and was chasing her own dream, instead of being forced to live someone else’s. Although, she realised, freedom did come at a price—guilt, mostly.

He sat upright. ‘And you came all the way from England just for that?’

‘Just? People have done things that are far more rash. I wanted to be part of the scene here. This is where screenplays get made into movies. This is where someone can take my work, my idea, and make it a reality. Besides, my dad’s from LA and he always talked it up.’

‘So if he liked it, why did he leave? I presume he left?’

‘He met my mum and married her and they moved back to her home, which is London. Basically, he gave up his career here for love.’ He’d taken second best for a job, moved countries, given up dreams. She was not going to follow in his footsteps—she was going to mould her own. Chase her own dreams. Hard.

She wasn’t going to give anything up for love—when she was ready she was going to have it all. She just wasn’t sure if she would ever be ready—how did you know? Her plan was to achieve all those things her father hadn’t. To be a success. Because when he’d watched his daughter performing on stage all she’d seen in his eyes had been the light of regret. Lola never wanted to have any regrets. Or to walk on a stage ever again.

Jake looked startled. Shocked. As if the whole idea of love was alien and somehow absurd. ‘Why would anyone would do that? Why take a chance on something that could just as easily fall apart? What does he do now?’

‘He teaches drama, which he loves. And I’m sure he’s happy where he is. I know he adores his family. Too much at times. But he used to tell such amazing stories about living here and the films he was in. Did you see Big City Drive? No? It was about life in LA in the eighties. He said it was really accurate. The whole city vibe. I think I fell in love with this city just from that film. Although it does help that my dad was in it.’

Jake gave her a look that made her think he didn’t much like it at all. ‘And how’s it working out for you?’

She couldn’t look him in the eye and lie, so she spoke to the air around them. ‘It’s going just fine. Great! Look around you—isn’t this brilliant? Over there is Alfredo Petrocelli, the best director in the world, as far as I’m concerned. And I’m breathing the same air as Matt Ringwood and Cameron Fontaine—although her air is usually infused with some weird aromatherapy combinations depending on her mood, and they change—a lot. But, all things considered, it couldn’t be better.’

‘And yet your body language says the opposite.’ Those blue eyes narrowed a little. ‘Tell me the truth, Lola. It’s not all glitz and glamour, is it?’

Why did this man make her feel simultaneously nervous and yet eager to talk? How did he read her so well in the space of...what? Half an hour? She wanted to brush everything off with a big happy shrug but, well, she was a little sick of lying about how much fun it all was and how wonderfully exciting it was, when really sometimes she felt so despondent she wanted to cry. She was lonely. She was poor. She wasn’t making the right connections quickly enough. She was running out of money. She couldn’t bring herself to show her script to anyone. It was bad enough that she had to lie every time her father phoned.

But, then, she didn’t know Jake from a bar of soap, so why should she spill her guts to him? ‘It’s fabulous, actually. You should see Cameron’s house in Bel Air. It’s amazing. And she has great parties.’ Which Lola organised completely but had to keep a ‘low profile’ for. No partying for the assistant, just background work creating the illusion that Cameron had done it all on her own. ‘Really. Fabulous. Now, I think I should probably be going.’

Jake frowned. ‘Where? Back to Cameron? Won’t she yell if she needs you? That seems to work.’

‘Yes, she will. But I do have other things I should be doing. Besides, she needs me to go over her lines.’

But he didn’t seem to want to move, so she was kind of stuck here, being polite. Although that wasn’t too much of a hardship. After the initial bad beginning, things had started to smooth out a little—largely, she mused, due to her never-ending search for the positive in things, which was starting to falter a little.

He leaned back and crossed his legs. From what she could see of them they were toned, strong, clothed in expensive fabric. A dark suit, very professional. In fact, from this angle she could see the stretch of linen across his chest, the bunched muscles in his arms. He clearly did more working out than lifting a scalpel. And that was so none of her business. She looked away—only this time it was at his face.

His eyes met hers again and she felt a shiver of something strange as he said, ‘So, what’s it about, then, your screenplay?’

Wow. The first person to actually ask.

She’d prepared her elevator pitch, she knew exactly how to sell it to a director or producer in one sentence. Perhaps she could try it out on him?

‘Lola! Lola!’

No such luck.

She gave him a little nod. ‘See. I have to go. But, please, don’t disappear on me, she’s probably—’

‘Lola!’ The pitch was high, the voice wobbly.

‘Oh, she really does sound upset. Maybe you should come too?’

‘Okay. Sure. Once more unto the breach and all that...’ He closed his eyes for a second and then breathed in deeply, as if summoning up courage. ‘Do we need hard hats?’

For a moment Lola felt as if she had an ally. Everyone else took Cameron so seriously it was nice to share a confidence. She laughed. ‘Only if she throws something at you.’ At his worried grimace she laughed again. Harder. ‘She has terrible aim. She hasn’t actually hit me yet.’

* * *

Jake watched as Lola again clothed herself in her positive jolly guise and entered the trailer. For a few seconds she’d let him see past that façade to the real woman—she was an interesting character. Clearly driven, if not a little spirited. Still, there was nothing wrong in chasing a dream. She was articulate and had a self-deprecating sense of humour, which was infectious.

She almost ran over to Cameron and Jake had a suspicion that there was some affection there for her boss despite what she said. ‘Hey, are you okay? What’s the problem?’

The actress wiped tears from her cheeks. ‘I don’t know. I feel...well, I don’t feel right. I’m so...out of sorts.’

Jake stepped in. ‘Are you in pain anywhere, Miss Fontaine?’

‘No. Not pain exactly.’

Great. Not helpful. ‘Can you describe what this out of sorts feeling is? Is it anywhere in particular? An ache? A stabbing pain? Nausea? Headache? Dizziness?’ It was like playing lucky dip.

‘No.’ Tears fell faster.

‘She was nauseous earlier.’ Lola looked from one to the other as if that was the complete answer.

‘It’s gone now, I’m just a little upset. Something I ate, no doubt.’ Cameron sighed. ‘But I don’t think I’ll be able to do much today. Lola, honey, can you tell them I won’t be out for the rest of the day?’

Lola frowned, but quickly wiped it from her face. Her voice was soothing, soft and positive. ‘Maybe you’re just a little over-tired? You’ve been working very hard recently with only one little break in Hawaii. That wasn’t enough—you need to make sure you book in a longer break between shoots next time. I’ll put it in your diary.’ While she talked she brushed Cameron’s hair back from her face and held a glass of water out for her to drink. ‘I think they’re on their break now, anyway. They’ve been doing some stunt rehearsing to fill in—Matt’s big fight scene, you know what a perfectionist he is, so don’t worry, everyone’s fine about it. How about we see how you feel in a few minutes? Perhaps Jake could give you a tonic or something?’

A tonic? Did people still have those? He was all clued up on brains and, after his stint in ER as an intern, could manage most emergencies. But general non-specific malaise? He wasn’t sure about that. He knelt in front of Cameron.

‘Perhaps Lola could excuse us while I examine you?’ He shot a hopeful look at Lola and she nodded.

‘Great idea. Let’s make sure we’re not missing anything.’

‘No. No. That won’t do at all. Please, just give me a tonic. Something...something non-toxic. Oh, I don’t know, maybe just water? Would more water help?’ Cameron put a protective hand to her stomach, although Jake thought it was an odd subconscious action.

Then his mind began to join the dots. General malaise. Nausea disguised as a stomach upset. Hand on abdomen. Tears. Non-toxic.

She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant and she doesn’t want anyone to know. ‘I’d really like to talk to you in private, Cameron. Just talk. I won’t examine you if you don’t want that.’

The actress looked at him for a good long beat. She gave a minute shake of her head, her eyes wide and a little scared. Clearly, anyone finding out about this, even her assistant, was a big deal. But didn’t she know she needed to take care? To eat the right things? Did she know for sure or just suspect? Did she have an OB/GYN?

Miss Fontaine sat up and patted her cheeks with a tissue. ‘You know what? I’m actually starting to feel a bit better. Perhaps a little more water, then I’ll go back outside. Get some air. Maybe we could do some sitting-down scenes to conserve my energy.’

Jake wasn’t convinced. ‘Cameron, are you sure you don’t want me to look you over? Or I can arrange for someone else to come see you? This evening? To your home if you want?’ An OB/GYN? Midwife? He gave her a studied look, hoping she could read through his words. Trying to maintain confidentiality with someone else in the room was difficult. ‘I could call someone.’

‘No. Thank you. You’ve been very attentive. But I’m fine. Absolutely. You can go.’

He fished into his bag and drew out a card, which he gave to her. ‘Here’s my personal cell number. Call me any time.’

For the first time since he’d met her, Cameron smiled. ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

Just concerned. ‘Any time. Okay?’

Then he nodded to Lola to come outside with him. Thankfully she followed until they were out of hearing distance.

‘Thank you, Jake. I think all she needs is a bit of reassurance. You know what these people are like—they get very anxious about their bodies—it’s so important to them to be perfect. Obviously.’

Yes, well, he still wasn’t happy about the situation. He was on a set with a presumably pregnant actress who was at all kinds of risk. However, he also had to remember that pregnancy was a perfectly natural and normal state. ‘I think she needs to rest when she’s feeling tired. If there’s no pain or...anything else, she can continue to work. I’ve got to go back to the clinic and check on my patient from this morning, but I’ll come back later. Just to double-check she’s feeling okay.’ And to convince her to seek further advice. Somehow.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

‘It’s not, it’s just routine.’

‘But you could have just walked away. Thanks for putting up with us. I’ll see you later. If they’re filming when you get here, just pop on over to the trailer. That’s where I’ll be, no doubt. That is...well...you know. If you want. We could wait...in there. Or...sorry, I’m rambling. Bye.’

As Lola smiled he felt momentarily as if his breath had been sucked out of his lungs. She turned and walked back towards the trailer and he realised he was waiting for the angry little stomps. He kind of missed them.

She was all kinds of confusing. She didn’t take any rubbish from him, but she took it from her boss. She stood up for herself in some situations, but not in others. She was hard working and committed. And she was, surprisingly and refreshingly, genuinely nice. Lola was the only real thing here—the rest was fabrication and fairy tale.

And he realised, as he climbed back into his car, that he wasn’t thinking about coming back to see Cameron at all. It was her assistant that had him looking in the rear-view mirror for one final glimpse.

That was a danger sign if ever he knew one.

CHAPTER THREE

THE HOLLYWOOD HILLS CLINIC was bustling as usual, regardless of the time of day or night. After checking on his patient, Jake took the lift to the management suite and walked along the bright corridor, his footsteps tapping on the marble tiling. It was a far cry from the well-intentioned but underfunded public hospital he’d worked at prior to the phone call from James that had promised to change his life.

It had. And, he hoped, working here had made his parents’ lives easier. For too long they’d scrimped and saved and sacrificed for their only son to achieve dreams way beyond any they’d dared to have for themselves. And every once in a while he took a breath and appreciated how very different things could have been for a relatively poor kid from Van Nuys; at least now with his handsome salary he could make up for all of their sacrifices. Even if he couldn’t make up for the effect those sacrifices had had on his father’s health.

He rapped on the door and opened it. ‘James, I need a word, if you have time?’

James Rothsberg smiled as he placed his phone into the holder on the desk. ‘Jake, I was just talking about you. Ears burning?’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘How’s it going over at the studio? Not taxing you too much?’ James leaned back in his chair and indicated for Jake to sit too. ‘Pretty cool job, right?’

Jake took a seat opposite him. ‘That’s what I want to discuss. It’s entirely inappropriate that I’m there, to be honest. I’m wasting my time, and theirs. There are less qualified people who could do the work; it’s not difficult, just time-consuming. Very time-consuming.’

James gave an uncharacteristic frown. ‘But it’s a roster. We all do our share. It’s part of your contract.’

‘Yes, I know. But now I’m doing Kim’s stint too.’

‘So we’ll rearrange it so you don’t get to do it again in a hurry. Fine?’

Not fine. Jake did not want to go back there and exchange heated looks with a redheaded English rose who only had one speed: hyperdrive. He wanted to stay here and work his heart out making people better, the way he knew how. He wanted to focus on his job. This job, here, the one he’d worked so hard to get, and the one he wanted to keep. And not think about pretty little angry stomps or waste his time on non-emergencies and actresses who wanted to keep secrets. ‘I’d prefer it if someone else could go.’

‘And I’d prefer it if you go. I’m just off the phone with Alfredo. He’s very impressed after hearing the rave review Cameron Fontaine gave you this afternoon. He’s requested that you accompany them on a location shoot. To keep her happy, mainly. In fact, she’s insisting on it.’

Jake felt frustration well up in his gut. ‘What? A location shoot? No way. That’s out of the question. What about my patients? You know, the brain-injured ones?’

His boss’s palm rose. ‘Jake, I’m not arguing about this. We can rearrange your schedule. It’s only for a few days—mainly over the weekend, so it won’t take you away from your patients here. I can give you time off in lieu. It’s in the Bahamas. That should appeal, right?’

The Bahamas? What the hell...? What did that have to do with a desiccated space-odyssey landscape? The world had gone mad.

Sun. Sea. And...well, at least the fiery redhead wouldn’t be there. Surely? That wasn’t the kind of thing assistants did, was it? Accompany their bosses on location shoots? ‘I don’t know, James. I don’t see how I’m the best fit for this. Send someone else.’

‘You don’t have any surgery booked until Tuesday. I can’t see a problem,’ James said, as he tapped on his laptop and looked at what Jake imagined was the OR schedule. The atmosphere became charged a little as his boss sat forward, suddenly serious. ‘See, the way it works is this: the studio heads contract to the clinic. We’re the best in California and everyone knows it, so they want to be associated with us. And it’s very lucrative, very prestigious. My point is, Alfredo plays golf with some of the studio guys...we don’t want word getting out that we renege on our contracts, do we? That our staff are unhelpful? Way too negative for us. We need you to keep them sweet.’

‘When you put it like that...’ It was clear this was a battle he couldn’t fight. James was right, he could rearrange his outpatient clinics, he didn’t have any scheduled surgery for a few days. Jake had made his feelings clear, but was big enough to accept that sometimes there were things he couldn’t change.

‘Plus, this kind of exposure to celebrities really helps with promoting the Bright Hope Clinic and the work Mila does there. Celebs love being involved with charities, and having our staff involved at all levels helps bring in donations. It’s great leverage.’

There was a strange mist in James’s eyes as he spoke of the Bright Hope Clinic. But Jake doubted whether it had as much to do with the pro bono work they were all going to do there with underprivileged kids as it had to do with the charity head, Mila Brightman. Every time James and Mila were in the same room there was a strange buzz in the air. It bordered on animosity—but there was something else there too. Fireworks, mainly.

Jake gave his friend a quick smile to show his agreement. He would not put his own needs first when kids’ futures were on the line. And, yeah, he was also big enough to admit that, despite what he thought about the airhead celebrity culture, they had big hearts and deep pockets and did a lot of good...and now he was starting to go soft. ‘Okay, okay, I’m packing already.’

‘Great. See? Not too hard, was it? A free trip to the Bahamas? I wouldn’t grumble. So, how’s everything else going? How’s the wonderful Cameron? Alfredo said she’s had a few issues. I’ve heard she can be a huge pain in the—’ James was interrupted by a soft tap at the door. ‘Yes? Come in.’

It was Mila. As she walked in Jake saw her cheeks flush a little. She focused solely on the man in front of her. ‘Hi, James. I’m so sorry to interrupt you.’

‘Mila, no problem, not at all.’ His boss stood immediately, suddenly looking like a lost boy rather than the accomplished professional he was. Jake hadn’t been working here very long, so he didn’t know what, if any, past these two had, but he smiled to himself. Whatever the hell was going on was so damned obvious to everyone—if not to them. The air had become charged in a completely different way, and Jake figured now was a good time to leave. Three was a crowd after all...

He stood to go. ‘Hi, Mila. Bye, Mila. Sorry, just leaving.’

‘Oh.’ She whirled round, her voice a little more high-pitched than he remembered it to be. ‘I didn’t see you there. Hi, Jake. How’s things?’

James cut in. ‘Poor guy’s got a difficult weekend coming up. A few days in Nassau with Cameron Fontaine.’

‘Oh? Exciting.’ Mila smiled, her long brown ponytail swishing as she turned her head. ‘Must be hard, being you.’

‘Tough job, right?’ And for a split second he found himself looking forward to the break, imagining a beach at sunset, the last dying rays of sun shimmering on a mass of red curls... Damn it... He needed to get out more. What the hell was wrong with him? Thirty minutes. That’s all he’d spent with Lola Bennett. Why she kept stomping into his head he didn’t know. But he wished she would stop it. ‘Look, I’ve got to get back to the studio. I’ll see you two later.’

But, already lost in their own tense conversation, he doubted they’d heard him. As he ambled to the door he caught snippets, James sounding a little stilted. ‘Sure, Mila, I’ve got the number right here.’

Mila’s breathy response was, ‘Great. I was just passing, and thought it’d be easier to ask in person than phone. I need a number and a quick chat about her work, character, commitment, really, whether you think she’d be a good fit for Bright Hope. But I can’t stay long, I’ve got to meet someone in an hour.’

‘Oh? Tyler?’ James’s voice was more of a growl at the mention of Mila’s boyfriend. Jake wished he could hear this out but he didn’t do gossip, no matter how tempting. And yet he still couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. He paused to fasten his bag.

Mila shook her head. ‘No. It’s with the cleaning company manager. We have a couple of issues with their contract.’ There was a pause. ‘Actually, Tyler and I split.’

‘Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.’ Was that interest in James’s voice? No. It couldn’t be. Really?

She gave a bitter laugh. ‘I’m not. Now...the number for that paediatric cardiologist?’

‘Yes. Right here. You don’t seem too cut up about it.’

And as Jake tried to close the door without disturbing them, he heard her voice harden. ‘It wasn’t working, and I’d prefer not to talk about it. I don’t like to get my personal life embroiled in my professional. And I’m certainly not going to discuss it with you.’

‘Yes. No. Of course.’ James sounded wrong-footed. Surprised by her reaction. And so was Jake, a little. Normally she was a warm-hearted woman, professional, capable and very caring. Devoted to her patients. But she did sound a little bitter right now.

And Jake really did need to go. Eavesdropping was definitely not part of his contract. Plus, he was running late for a date with a very demanding leading lady...and her very jolly English assistant.

* * *

Lola sat in the trailer, trying to focus on editing her script, but failing, badly. Usually she welcomed moments like this where she could spend some time on herself and her own work, but she was feeling restless, fidgety. Kept looking towards the door and wishing it would open.

That damned doctor. He’d been the first person to pay attention to her—to Lola Bennett—rather than her employer or her contacts, or her usefulness. Plus he’d been quite amiable in the end—once she’d set him straight on manners.

Really.

He needn’t have been so nice to her. She was growing used to being in the background, which was a far cry from being a big fish in the small sea at Oxford University. But it was nothing more than she’d expected. LA was a big city after all, and everyone wanted a piece of the action.

And, well, she needed to focus on her work and the less she thought about Jake’s body the better.

But it was so...so hot. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find a stroppy neurosurgeon attractive. She’d always imagined she’d get embroiled with the creative, arty type. But her cheeks burned just thinking about him.

Which was stupid.

And, besides, he’d shown no interest in her...in that way. She was just a little bit lonely. And therefore vulnerable.

No. She would never be vulnerable. She was hard-working, focused and intent. Most of the time.

A knock on the door had her heart racing. ‘Come in!’

‘Hey, Lola Bennett.’ Jake stepped into the trailer and gave her a smile. A little uncomfortable, wary maybe, but there it was. ‘I’ve come back to check on Cameron. But I didn’t see her on set and she’s not here?’

‘She’s gone home. They’re working on a different scene now—after you’d gone she did very well and they managed to catch up, but she was tired so she’s gone for an early night. I called the clinic and told them she was okay and not to worry you, but you’d already set off. Don’t you have your cell phone? They said they’d text you.’ What was it about him that made her ramble on so much?

‘I keep it on silent because it keeps ringing and disturbing me.’ He dragged it from his suit jacket pocket and showed her. The strange and yet nice thing about Dr Lewis was that he wasn’t the least bit affected. He was straight up. Honest. Had no pretensions or cocky swagger. And yet he was so damned hot to look at he could have been in any one of her boss’s recent movies, or on the cover of a magazine. He just didn’t seem to realise it. ‘Oh, yes. There is a message.’

‘So you’ve wasted your time. I’m sorry.’ Liar. She was actually a bit pleased that he was here. Well, she would have been had her heart not started a funny little rhythm that felt like she was being kicked in the chest every few minutes. She was pleased, but judging by his frown he wasn’t. ‘I waited here in case you turned up. I didn’t want you to think we’d all abandoned you.’ The added bonus was that she could use the electricity here for free and snack on the leftover food in Cameron’s refrigerator. Plus, the thought of going home to her empty, shabby apartment left her cold.

‘Well, at least someone cares whether my time’s wasted.’ He nodded at the pile of paper on the table. ‘That your script? You never got round to telling me what it’s about. Please don’t tell me it’s another space disaster movie. I think the world has more than enough of them.’

She laughed. ‘How can you say that? The world can never have enough space desert warrior princesses. With AK47s. And very bad dialogue. Make more, I say. Lots of them. With terrible sequels.’

‘No. Not sequels too. Please don’t encourage them.’ The irritation broken, he finally laughed, his eyes shining in the dim light of the trailer lamps. When he relaxed he was pretty damned gorgeous. ‘So what kind of movies do you like, Lola?’

‘Anything with a good story, really. I love characters I can identify with, with guts and emotions. I’m not big on action thrillers and definitely not horrors—unless there’s a real character growth arc... Sorry, am I getting too technical? I’m doing an online course on writing screenplays and learning so much about story development. But the trouble with dissecting movies is that now I can’t see one without analysing it. I’m spoilt for ever.’

‘That sucks.’ He picked up the front sheet of her script. ‘Can I see?’

‘No. Please, no.’ She snatched it back, trying hard not to sound too crazy. Her screenplay was her baby and she wasn’t sure it was good enough yet. ‘I just don’t think it’s ready. My eyes only, and all that.’

‘Sure, I understand.’ At her wary frown he sat down on the sofa opposite. ‘I’m a perfectionist too. I hate doing anything less than stellar.’

‘That’s why you’re so good at your job.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘You wouldn’t know. You’ve hardly seen me at my best.’

‘Well, you were very good with Cameron.’

‘Not at first. You’d have been more impressed if you’d seen me manipulating a probe in her motor cortex...that’s part of the brain...while she was still awake.’ He waved his fingers in the air like a conductor and it was so out of character that she laughed.

‘Believe me, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even be in the same room as you. Good God, that sounds hideous.’ Although she imagined him all scrubbed up, those strong arms working on a patient. Sweat beading his furrowed brow, his gaze catching hers across a crowded operating theatre... And now she was thinking like a bad romance novel. ‘Do you really do operations while your patients are still awake?’

‘Sometimes it works better that way as we can assess the patient as we go, see how they’re reacting to what we’re doing. It’s important to make sure we’re not affecting certain processes—like speech and movement. It doesn’t hurt—the brain doesn’t have any pain receptors.’

‘Eugh.’ Even so, how could he do that? ‘I wonder if I could put that in my movie?’

‘Why not? Although if it’s a kids’ film, you might have a few complaints. You’d have to have a rider: Do not do this at home.’

And he had a sense of humour that was refreshing. ‘Surely it’s not too hard? A few chopsticks and a handy pocket knife?’

‘Sure, that’s all there is to it. Easy. Plus fifteen years’ training, one or two pesky exams. Oh, and a steady hand is a must. Otherwise...well...’ He made a slicing motion at his throat.

‘Hmm. Good job you have steady hands, then.’ She reached out and took his hands in hers and held them straight out to see if they shook. It was just a joke. A funny little gesture, that was all. It didn’t mean anything.

But the strangest thing happened when she touched him. It was like a force, a shock or a shudder shivering through her. Her stomach began to fizz in an odd way and heat spread through her, from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes.

She looked up at him to see if he’d felt the same thing and he was looking at her in a funny way. Kind of surprised, yet irritated and bemused. And his eyes were still shining, but now in a really, really good way; the blue was dark with intent and she had an urge to lean forward across the table and kiss him. Right there. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

But her throat was dry and her heart was hammering, and he still had a frown and, yet, a small smile. And she couldn’t kiss him. How could she kiss him? He’d think she was completely mad. And he’d be right. She was completely mad to want to kiss him. She hardly knew him. And he might not want to kiss her back.

She dragged her eyes away from his heated face and saw her script next to his arm. That was why she was here. Not for a man. Not for a kiss with a strange doctor. Who wasn’t strange at all and was actually very sexy. But too distracting. She was here for her career. Just as he was. And she was a perfectionist, just like him. But he was a lot further down the track than she was. He was already hugely successful and she was just a fledgling wannabe. She had a lot of work to do.

So she let his hands go and stood up, even though her legs were wobbly, because there was something about him that made her feel off balance. ‘I...er...I think I’m going to call it a day now. No doubt Cameron will be buzzing me early in the morning. It’s a five a.m. call.’

‘Okay. Great idea.’ He stood too, and they both tried to get out of the booth at the same time and brushed against each other. His chest was hard and strong, his breath whispered over her neck, and for a few seconds she didn’t know what to do. If she moved forward she’d be in his arms. Which suddenly didn’t seem such a bad idea...except...it was.

He stepped back and gestured for her to go first. ‘Sorry. After you.’

‘Thanks.’ She winced in embarrassment as she stepped out of the trailer and down the steps, wrapped her arms around her chest and started to walk towards the car lot.

He was next to her all the way. No talking. No...anything. Just walking in a strange awkward silence while her heart thump-thump-thumped and she clenched her fists tight. And she knew that nothing happening was a good thing. A very good thing. But a small part of her still clung to the fizz that bubbled in her stomach and the jerky heartbeat that made her cough a little.

When she reached her car she stopped. ‘Okay, well, thanks again, Jake. I’ll see you...? Actually, I’m not sure when that’ll be because Cameron’s going on location in a couple of days so...’

‘I don’t suppose you’re hungry?’ He’d lost that perplexed look and was back to being completely in control again. If that banquette blunder had affected him at all he didn’t show it. Which made her feel as if she was going slightly mad. He gave her smile. ‘I need to eat and I guess you do too. I know a great Thai place that does amazing noodles. You want to eat?’

Yes! ‘No. I don’t think—I...er...’ Yes. Yes. Yes.

Absolutely not.

He shook his head quite vehemently. ‘I don’t mean...not a date or anything. I can’t do that.’

His words made her step back. ‘Why? Are you married or something?’ That would be a good thing. A very good thing. A very good out-of-bounds, hands-off and definitely-no-kissing kind of good thing.

But he kept on shaking his head. ‘No. God, me married? No way. Really, no. But I’m always open to making new friends and would like some company for dinner. I can apologise again for being an idiot earlier. You can tell me about your story. Then I can show you how to manipulate chopsticks for awake brain surgery research. And you can B-I-T-C-H about your boss in safety, because I’m absolutely bound by confidentiality, and if you told me anything you’d have to kill me or sue me.’

‘Oh...I wouldn’t do that. Kill you, I mean. Well, not immediately. And everyone needs a friend, right?’ And it was all in the name of research and nothing else, so why not? ‘That’s an offer I definitely can’t refuse. To be honest, I’m starving. Lead on.’

So she got into her car and followed the lights of his expensive-looking sedan. Followed him from the dark studio warehouses back to the bright lights of the city, then through a maze of back streets that she knew she would never find her way out of on her own. And for the first time in a long time she felt as if things were looking up. It would be good to have a new friend in this strange but wonderful place.

If only she could stop thinking about kissing him.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE RESTAURANT WAS nothing like she’d imagined. It had basic melamine tables, white plastic chairs that she’d seen in her local two-dollar shop, and a fog of steam fragranced with seriously delicious smells of garlic and sesame oil and fish sauce.

Multicoloured paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving off a rosy red-orange glow, and squished in at each table were crowds of people Lola thought must be Thai nationals all chattering and laughing away in a language she didn’t understand. An oddly incongruous but perfectly quirky soundtrack of heavy rock pierced the air. Who’d have imagined a place like this? It was like being back in Bangkok.

‘Like it? This place is like a second home to me now,’ Jake said, as he squashed in next to her at a shared table. There was no room for embarrassment here, it was a case of either sitting close or closer. And she wasn’t sure if it was the cloying heat in the room or just being next to him, but she needed a cooling drink. Fast. He ran a finger down the pictures on the menu. ‘I recommend the Pad Thai or the house cashew chicken. Perfection. The best Thai food on the West Coast. Fancy a beer? Wine?’ He beckoned to a male server who came over, smiled and welcomed him like an old friend.

‘Mr Jake. Nice to see you again. Your usual?’

‘Hi, Panit, yes, please. And some...?’ He looked over at Lola.

Her mouth watering, she scoured the menu for her favourite. ‘Oh, yes. A beer, pork larb and a green papaya salad, please.’

Jake leaned back and looked at her, laughing. ‘There was me thinking I was going to wow you with unusual flavours and yet you know more about it than me.’

‘I travelled around Asia in my uni holidays...vacations. Vietnam, Laos and Thailand.’ It had taken her days to convince her parents to let her take time off. They’d had jobs lined up for her, but she didn’t do them. Her first strike for freedom. ‘It was brilliant. Madly busy but brilliant. And I learnt so much about the food. We even had cooking lessons over there. I came back ten pounds heavier.’ She patted her hips where the noodles and rice still clung in lumps and bumps. Her dad had gone mad about that too. You can never be too thin, he always said.

‘You look great to me.’ Jake’s eyes wandered to her hands, then slowly up her body until blood rushed to her cheeks just at the moment his gaze hit hers, and there it lingered for just long enough that she felt unsettled. There was something happening—and she knew it wasn’t the magical lighting or the steamy atmosphere, and it certainly wasn’t the beer because she hadn’t had any yet—but there was definitely something scary and weird happening inside her. And if it was just happening to her then she was going to feel like an idiot if it continued.

Jake took a slug of the beer that Panit brought over and broke the connection. ‘I’d love to travel more. I just haven’t gotten round to anywhere that far away.’

‘You’ve been focusing on work?’

‘You bet. My plan is to get to the top of my field and then take a little time to smell the roses... But, first, no rest for the wicked, right? You’ve got to push, push, push. I get the feeling you’ve got the same kind of drive.’ Confidence oozed from him, particularly in his smile. She wondered how it would be if this were a real date rather than a non-date. How it would feel to have those hands touch her... And suddenly she wanted them on her.

Was this chemistry real?

No. It couldn’t be. She shoved such fanciful ideas to the back of her mind. He’d made his intentions very clear and she was perfectly fine with that. She didn’t have time in her life for anything more intimate than this sort of dinner.

The food arrived so quickly she was surprised when the server returned with steaming plates of mains and bowls of rice. Jake picked up his two chopsticks, and one of hers, and held them aloft in front of him. ‘So, here we go...brain surgery one-oh-one. Basically you need one head, three probes...’

‘You’re not really going to...?’ She squeezed her eyes half-shut and shuddered.

‘And a drill...’ He made a drilling sound. Then stopped as she screwed her eyes up even tighter. ‘You okay? You’ve gone a bit green.’

‘Please. No. That is so gross.’

‘And I thought you had guts, Lola Bennett.’

Did he? How? Why? ‘Well, you’re going to see them in a minute if you don’t stop.’ But she was laughing and not really grossed out at all. Although she wouldn’t be queueing up to see him in action for real.

He winked. ‘Another day, then. Seriously, if you decide to incorporate some medical scenes into your story I’ll be happy to help with the technical details.’

‘Who knows? I may just take you up on that. I do have a few medical scenes in there. Perhaps you could write them for me and I can just edit them peering from behind my fingers?’

He smiled. ‘The trick, I imagine, is to just give a few spare details and not a lot of gore—unless you’re writing a horror movie, in which case the more gore, the better. Everywhere.’

‘Especially in the scene where it’s night-time and someone hears a noise in the cellar. But no one has a torch...and they go down anyway...while we’re all screaming, “No, don’t do it!”’

‘Aw, no? Lola, I never realised they did that—but now you mention it...every horror movie. Ever. Now you’re analysing it and spoiling it for me too.’ Laughing, he tucked into the food and she followed suit. It was delicious, totally authentic and quite spicy. The cold beer washed everything down well. They ate in companiable silence until he put his chopsticks down and looked at her. ‘So, give me a synopsis of your story.’

‘Oh. Okay. Right. Well, I’ve been practising my elevator pitch—basically that’s for when I’m caught in an elevator with a famous director and I have two minutes to tell them about my script before they get out.’

‘You get caught in elevators with directors often?’

‘Not often enough. Well, never...but I’m prepared anyway in case I do. So...listen up...’ No point being nervous. He wasn’t going to poke fun at her. He wouldn’t criticise it. He was a...friend. She tested how that felt, and it felt good. He was funny and attentive and knew great authentic places to eat and was... Did it matter whether friends were gorgeous to look at? Just looking at him was putting her off her stride, never mind about the scary fluttery thing happening inside her. ‘Right... Oh, this is too hard.’

‘Come on, Lola. You can do this.’

I can? He believed in her, so why didn’t she?

Because so far things hadn’t worked out according to her plan, and before she knew it she’d be back on the plane, the second one in her family to give up on Los Angeles hopes and dreams. And she’d have to admit the truth to her parents and she didn’t want to do that until she was successful. ‘Okay. Here goes: Jane Forrest is thirty, brilliant, and...dying. Her father is missing, estranged and may hold the key to her survival. How far does she need to go to find him before time runs out? How strong are the ties that bind them together after years apart, and what will it take to convince him to help?’

‘Wow.’ Jake nodded, not looking as if he was overly impressed. ‘Great, Lola. Yeah.’

‘You’re not convinced?’

‘Good to hear there are no outer space desert warrior princesses.’ He took a mouthful of noodles. Swallowed, licked his lips and grinned. ‘Sounds pretty intense.’

‘It’s actually very funny in parts. I’m told it’s uplifting...and sad too. I cried buckets when I wrote it and my tutor said it was one of the best scripts he’d read. It’s about a woman trying to find her long-lost father, as she needs a bone-marrow transplant. Her investigation takes her all over the world to all the places he’d visited, and she learns about the great man he’d become. But she eventually comes almost full circle and finds him in the town next to where she grew up. And she gets to wondering, if he was so great, why didn’t he look for her too? But also he’s dying, so he can’t help her. It’s...I guess it’s about their relationship, forgiveness and healing—even when healing isn’t always possible.’

Elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers. ‘Sounds brilliant. So why haven’t you sold it yet?’

‘It’s not that easy—you don’t just advertise online and get it optioned. I’m tweaking it. It needs work.’

‘You need someone else to look it over...a script assessor? Your dad?’ Jake’s startling blue eyes lit up. ‘He’s been an actor and a teacher, so what’s the harm?’

The harm was that no one in her family knew she was writing. There’d be too many questions—too much she’d have to tell them. And then there’d be the letdown, the disappointment, the betrayal. And, after all that, even if her dad was still interested in reading her screenplay, what if it was rubbish? She’d never live it down. ‘I don’t know. It’s like...it’s like handing over your heart and giving someone carte blanche to stomp over it.’

‘Stomping runs in the family?’

‘We’re champion stompers actually. Won awards for it... We are stomping elite.’

‘But he wouldn’t do that. Surely not?’ Jake studied her for a moment. His eyes really were stunning and she didn’t want to stop looking at them. Her stomach felt a swooping sensation every time their gazes connected. Knowing she was on a highway to nowhere, she looked away as he spoke. ‘You miss them?’

‘Of course, every day.’ So much. But she had to strike out on her own. She was going to be a success on her terms, then she would go home and celebrate with them. If they were still speaking to her. She turned back to him, wanting to put the focus on him for a while. ‘Don’t you miss your family too? Where are they? Didn’t you say they were north somewhere?’

‘Van Nuys. Just parents. I’m an only child.’

‘Not far at all, then. Do you see them a lot?’

‘They’d probably say not enough, but...you know how it is.’ He shrugged, a little closed suddenly, and she wondered why.

‘You’re busy living your life, right?’

‘Sounds selfish when you put it like that.’ Eyebrows rising, he huffed out a breath. ‘Which is a huge guilt trip for me, seeing as they fought hard for me to do that. Too damned hard at times.’ Then he looked away and breathed out heavily.

She felt as if she’d put a big dollop of down on the conversation and thought briefly about putting her hand on his shoulder to show him solidarity, but thought better of it. She couldn’t work out why she had this sudden urge to touch the man. Or to make him feel better. ‘Go and see them, then.’

He turned back to her. ‘That easy, right?’

‘Look, I don’t know the circumstances, but I’d say some communication is better than none.’ She was giving family relationship advice? Go figure.

He finished his beer and stared at the empty glass, clearly not wanting to elaborate. Then he turned to her and smiled. ‘You know what? I just might go up there and see them—although I’m going to Nassau this weekend.’

‘You too, eh? Lucky duck. I’ll be stuck here with the pooches. Cameron has three dogs she adores. And I don’t particularly. They’re very spoilt,’ she finished in a whisper. She would have to play mama while everyone else swanned off to the Bahamas. She refused to allow images of Jake sunbathing into her head. But they came and hung around for a few moments anyway, making her blush. It seemed her mind was in conflict over Jake Lewis. On the one hand, it understood and respected the whole friends thing...and on the other it wanted sneaky, semi-naked thoughts. Actually, it wanted full-blown, butt-naked thoughts. Clearly she was going mad. It was time for bed. Alone. ‘Actually, talking of work...it’s getting late, I really should be getting home.’

He glanced at his watch and nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

He got the bill and refused to discuss her paying a share. Which was another big fat tick for the doctor—because even though she tried to pay it was nice to have someone looking out for her for a change. ‘I’ll get it next time,’ she promised.

‘Next time?’ There was a smile in his voice and a question. As they walked towards her car she wondered what to do or say now. Would there be a next time? Had she said something inappropriate? Should she kiss him on his cheek, both cheeks, shake hands? Or just walk away? ‘Next time sounds good, Lola. It’ll have to be after Nassau, though. But, before you go, I have something to ask you...’

‘Oh? Yes?’ Her voice rose a little as her heart began to hammer.

‘Strange question, I know, but is Cameron seeing anyone at the moment?’

Oh, God. Her stomach tumbled. Here we go again. Stupid. Stupid. She’d read the signs all wrong. He wasn’t remotely interested in her, he was interested in Cameron. She should have known. History repeating itself over and over. That was why he’d insisted it wasn’t a date. Stupid fool. When would she learn? No one was interested in her. Plenty of interest in her boss, though.

Hoping he hadn’t heard the pathetic hope in her voice, she tried to keep her answer in friend territory. ‘Not at the moment. That I’m aware of. She was dating Marc Jason a few months ago but that fizzled. It’s always the same—busy schedules that never coincide and no one wanting to put their relationships first, because that’s the kiss of death to a career-minded person.’ And, okay, she was just adding that last bit on to remind him that he was a career-minded person too, and that a relationship with Cameron would never work. It was for his own good. Plus, putting a negative spin on it made her feel a teensy bit better.

‘Oh. Okay.’ He frowned again, as if he was thinking about something serious—weirdly, he didn’t have that dog panting tongue thing going on like most of Cameron’s admirers. Maybe he was working out a strategy for when they were in Nassau. A sensible and driven man was Jake, and very goal oriented. Maybe bedding an A-list actress was on that list of goals. Along with shaming the personal assistant. Well, he could tick that one off his list already.

‘Do you want me to put a word in for you? Is that what this is all about? Is that what dinner was about? The non-date? You’re interested in Cameron because, let’s face it, why wouldn’t you be? So you thought you’d pay for dinner and buy her secrets from me? Or worse—if you can’t have her, you’d try to have me as consolation prize? Second best, right? Here we go again.’ Fighting back bitter tears, Lola stomped—yes, she stomped perfectly—towards her car.

But Jake caught her up and pulled her to a complete halt. ‘What...? You think...? Me? With Cameron? Are you for real?’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time that has happened to me.’

‘Hell, no. You’ve totally got this upside down. Not at all. Not at all. I was asking...’ again the serious frown and a pause ‘...to see who would be on the private plane, who to expect generally. How many people I have to look after.’ He gave an embarrassed wince because clearly he wasn’t convincing anyone with that line. ‘But really? Has that happened before? A guy has taken you out so you could introduce him to Cameron?’

‘Yep. One too many times.’ Lola closed her eyes briefly at the memory, the sharp sting of betrayal. How gullible she’d been...and was continuing to be. Would she never learn? ‘But she is very beautiful and rich and famous and on another level. Why wouldn’t anyone be attracted to her?’

Conversely, then, why would anyone be interested in her?

Jake’s jaw stiffened, his eyes blazing in the streetlight, his grip on her arm firm. ‘I am not attracted to Cameron Fontaine.’

‘Then you must be blind.’

Strangely, out of nowhere a smile formed on his lips. ‘Oh, no, my vision is perfect.’

‘Then you must be gay.’ Please, for the love of all women, including Cameron Fontaine if absolutely necessary, do not be gay.

‘No way.’ He stepped closer, so she could see his chest rising and falling, could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Could smell the most exquisite scent of man and medicine and spice.

‘Then what...?’

‘Then this.’ And he was suddenly too close. Not close enough. He pulled her to face him and his fingertips lifted her chin. ‘This, Lola.’

His mouth pressed against hers, gently at first, and her body responded in a flush of heat that pooled deep in her core. Every part of her craved him, craved to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him against her.

Initial instinct told her that she shouldn’t kiss him back, but something deeper, something intense had her opening her mouth and tasting him. And he tasted good. So good. She felt as inquisitive as the doomed teenagers stepping into the dark basement, and as filled with adrenalin. Knowing, like them, she was headed to disaster but doing it anyway.

She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer as his tongue slid past her lips, stoking the furnace that had lit inside her. She moaned at the pleasure of him filling her mouth, of the curling clench in her gut, at the sensations that ran up and down her spine, just being in his arms.

Leaning her against her car door, his hands cupped her face and he pressed harder against her, kissing her open-mouthed, and wet and hungry. She could feel how much he wanted her. How much he wanted something from her.

And like listening to an old-fashioned vinyl record scratching to a stop, she felt a visceral catch as her body stiffened. She put her hands on his chest and pushed a little away from him. ‘Stop. No. This...this isn’t...’

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ But he didn’t let her go as he hauled in deep ragged breaths, kissed the top of her head and stayed close.

‘I can’t stop thinking about Cameron and there are too many questions racing in my head. Too many reasons not to do this. Please, I think you should just go.’

‘Lola, believe me, this is not about Cameron. She is the furthest thing from my mind. I don’t want to go. I want to stay right here, doing this.’

* * *

Damn it. Jake’s hands dropped from her face as he struggled to control his breathing. God, she was hot. He couldn’t describe the way he felt with her pressing against him, kissing him. The fun she found in her life despite everything, the positive spin, the humility. She was a bundle of energy that he wanted to capture, to slow down, to have in his bed. And he’d blown it by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Each time he thought he knew what he was doing, things took a very unexpected turn.

Error number one: inviting Lola out for dinner in the first place, when he should have gone home and packed for the break he clearly needed. Because, no matter what he might have said about it being a non-date, the words and the reality were on two very opposing sides.

Error number two: mentioning Cameron at such a defining moment. He’d been thinking about trying to convince Lola’s boss to seek medical help, and had wondered whether he should suggest Cameron confide in the baby’s father too. He couldn’t tell Lola that Cameron was pregnant. That would betray a professional confidence and was something he would never do.

But he did want to keep kissing Lola. ‘I was stupid to mention her. I’m sorry I’ve ruined the moment.’

‘I’m sorry? So you can actually say it? Now, there’s a revelation.’ Lola gazed up at him and he could see the hesitation and the desire still there, and that she was fighting it. Resigned to it being over. ‘It was already heading in the wrong direction, right? It wasn’t a date, you said openly that you didn’t want that, and things have just gotten a little out of control.’

He huffed out a long breath. ‘I wanted to kiss you.’

‘And I wanted to kiss you back.’ She gave him a small smile that was at once coy and sexy.

That gave him some hope, as he wasn’t finished with the kissing. Although everything she was saying made absolute sense, his body had other things on its mind. ‘So we could have a re-run?’

The red hair swung as she shook her head. ‘No, Jake. It was an itch that we had to scratch. But it’s done now and I don’t think we should do it again. I get the feeling we want very different things.’

‘I don’t know what I want, Lola. At least I did yesterday. I did this morning. Now I’m not sure, but I think it definitely involves you and a lot more kissing.’

‘See? Now I’m messing things up for you.’ She turned away from him and unlocked her car. Climbed in. Wound down the window. All in the quick-paced way that she did everything. ‘I think it’d be a good idea if I’m not around when you come over to see Cameron. Don’t worry, I’ll make myself scarce.’

Then she gunned the engine and was gone.

She was right. Kissing was messing with his head. A few days on location with a demanding celebrity would see him back to his normal self—one who didn’t do random kissing in the street with a woman he’d only just met.

Although he had a feeling that getting back to normal might take a little time, and that a certain Lola Bennett would be stomping through his dreams tonight.

CHAPTER FIVE

JAKE HAD TO admit that flying by private jet was going to be pretty damned cool. He wasn’t easily impressed, but he was looking forward to this part of the potentially mind-numbing trip more than anything else. Somehow he’d managed to score a flight with Cameron, and he needed to find time to talk to her about his suspicions of her pregnancy and what antenatal care she should be having.

Thankfully he could concentrate on that, and then try to get some shut-eye after failing to get a decent night’s sleep for the first time in his life. Medical school then interning—being woken up at any time of day and night and expected to respond immediately with both a ready smile and a correct diagnosis—had taught him to be able to sleep anywhere he needed, any time. He could power up and down on demand as easily as his trusty laptop.

Except for the last few nights—when he hadn’t been able to get the taste and smell of Lola, along with memories of her easy laugh and mesmerising smile, out of his head. All the more reason he needed this break—mind-numbing or not—to reaffirm his work focus and equilibrium. He would approach it as he did everything else, with single-minded determination to do it to the highest standard.

It was, after all, what he’d promised his father he would do—and the only thought going through his brain right now, other than Lola, were the words he’d used at his father’s bedside in the hospital. ‘I’ll pay you back, double, triple what you’ve given me. Just get well and come home.’ His dad had paid too high a price for Jake to lose focus.

After ditching his car at valet parking, he strode into the private airfield departure lounge, which was more like a converted hangar than anything particularly luxurious, and was immediately greeted by a cacophony of shouts, hysterical screaming and wild yapping.

‘Get her, quick, grab her, hurry!’ Cameron was screaming, as a small brown dog wearing a studded diamanté collar, head down and teeth bared, scampered faster than Jake imagined a dog that size could go towards an open door that led to the tarmac. Dropping his bags, Jake set off in hot pursuit, dodging air crew, ground crew, piles of luggage, a refuelling lorry and, thankfully, but only just, a catering trolley heading straight for him.

The dog, seemingly enjoying this game of one hundred metre dash, bounded towards the steps of a private Cessna.

‘Peanut! Sit. Sit!’ From behind Jake a stern but breathless English voice bellowed through the hangar and, unbelievably, the dog came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the steps. ‘Naughty girl! Now, come here.’

Lola?

Jake took the opportunity to creep forward and grab the dazed puppy, securing it under his arm. I did not sign up for this.

Then he turned to see the cause of his insomnia, who was doubled over, trying to haul in air while simultaneously juggling two other bejewelled, yapping dogs close to her breasts. Lucky damned pooches.

And there he was again—losing himself.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d be here, but maybe she’d come to wave the Nassau-bound party off? Making sure her boss actually left the ground? Not such a bad idea. Shame she’d be stuck with those dogs, though. Nightmare. ‘Peanut? That’s a name? I thought it was something you had with beer.’

‘Sorry, it’s chaos as always. Can we do a swap? Please take Butter for a second while I secure Peanut. Yes, we have Peanut, Butter and this is Jelly. I know.’ Lola straightened up, offered one of the other dogs to Jake. He couldn’t tell whether she was glaring at him or the dogs. Either way there was no smile, and he felt guilty by association. ‘Not my choices, by the way. So, Peanut is the devil incarnate—you need to keep a special eye on her or she’ll be AWOL in five seconds flat. Butter is the glutton and Jelly is the sweetie. Take my advice, never, ever get three puppies at the same time.’

‘It never crossed my mind to get even one. Ever.’ He swapped one wriggling jiggling dog for another, which leaned in close and sniffed his face. Its breath smelt like rank dog biscuits and its claws were sharp. Then it stuck out its pink tongue. For a second he thought it was going to take a bite, but instead it began to lick his cheek with unhindered gusto. ‘Ugh. No. Er... Butter. Stop.’

He held it at arm’s length, looked over at Lola, who was now grinning at his discomfort, and then wished he hadn’t as he noticed the smooth curve of her mouth and her clipped-back hair, the soft cotton flowered top and loose skirt that blew a little round her legs in the light wind. That flight couldn’t come soon enough.

With a rise of her eyebrows Lola nodded. ‘She likes you. That’s her way of kissing.’

‘Yuck. Personally, I prefer the human way.’ The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the memories of the other night tumbled too, making him feel hot and unsatisfied all over again. It was obvious that Lola was thinking the same, as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away red-cheeked, leaving him wondering exactly where things would have ended up if he hadn’t uttered those kiss-of-death—or rather, death-of-kiss—words: Cameron Fontaine.

‘Yes. Well...’ Lola attached a lead to Peanut’s collar, took Butter from his outstretched hands and put all three dogs on the ground. ‘Unfortunately she hasn’t mastered the art of tact yet.’

‘Like her owner.’ And me. Jake threw Lola a smile, not sure if it was reassuring or what the hell it was. He didn’t know the required etiquette for talking to someone who really didn’t want to share the same air as him, and had told him as much.

Lola looked up at him through dark, thick eyelashes, solemn and serious. ‘Er...about the other day—’

‘No need...really.’

‘It’s just, you know, bad timing.’

‘It’s fine, I understand.’ Although he didn’t. Seriously, he was a surgeon, dealing with science and facts and black and white. All this chaos and acting and kissing was way beyond his comprehension.

But he did understand her reluctance to want to do it again. She’d been taking up far too much of his head space. He preferred his liaisons to be brief, satisfactory and forgettable. That way he could focus entirely on his work and paying back his dad. Just the thought of the debt he owed gave Jake a jolt in his chest.

‘Lola! Do hurry up! And you too, Dr Lewis.’ Ms Fontaine was waving and indicating that it was time to leave. ‘Don’t make us late. Lola, where are your bags?’

‘Sorry! Coming!’ Lola started towards her boss, encouraging the three yapping stooges to follow on their leads. ‘Come on, sweeties. Hurry up. This way.’

But Jake held back, suddenly off balance all over again. ‘What? Your bags?’

‘Oh. Yes.’ Lola threw the comment over her shoulder, like scraps to a hungry bird. ‘Apparently Mommy doesn’t want to leave her babies—for some reason she’s come over more broody than usual and can’t bear to be parted from them. So we’re all coming too. Normally I would be thrilled at the idea of going to Nassau for the weekend, but—’

He never got to hear the but, although he imagined what it was, as the jet engines powered into life, the noise sending thoughts and words into the wind, and that much of the but had to do with him and that kiss. Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Though the blush on Lola’s cheeks wasn’t due to make-up, and the tone in her voice hadn’t been wistful and hopeful. It had been as wary as he felt, a warning almost.

Out on the tarmac a fierce draught blew Lola’s red curls round her face, and the dogs’ mouths opened and closed with apparent indignation at the racket, but Jake couldn’t hear anything over the engine din. He was beginning to realise that whatever plans he’d made were about to crash into oblivion. He was not going to get private time to discuss Cameron’s pregnancy. The attraction to her assistant was not abating any time soon. And a decent night’s sleep was clearly going to become a thing of the past.

In truth, Lola coming on this trip was the worst possible outcome he could imagine.

* * *

Cameron had fallen asleep in one of the sumptuous red and cream leather sofas on board, and Jake was doing a good impression of the same thing. However, as he’d been seated next to her, Lola could see that even though his eyes were closed, his breathing wasn’t rhythmic and slow. He was just pretending to be asleep.

He was pretending? Just so he didn’t have to talk to her? Charming.

And the problem was, even on a plane like this where seating was plentiful and generous, he was still too close for any kind of comfort. Worse, that ridiculous urge to reach out and touch him hovered around—to just lay her hand against his chest or his arm, or something. The other night had been a close-run thing, and she’d felt mortified when Cameron had demanded she accompany them on this trip when she’d have far preferred not to see Jake again. Somehow she would have to keep her distance. The man was no good for her plans.

After five and a half uncomfortable hours of dark silence, followed by awkward conversation whilst trying to contain three excitable puppies, they landed in Nassau. So much for private flying—not one sip of champagne had passed her lips; Miss Fontaine was on a clean diet so that meant everyone else was too.

The lunch had been delicious, though—a decent serving of fresh raw taco shells with spicy vegetables, salsa and cashew cheese. Slightly strange, but far better than any economy class, ever, even if just for the real knives and forks instead of plastic ones, and real linen napkins.

‘Well, that was very acceptable. I think I’m spoiled for flying ever again,’ she whispered to Jake, just for something to say as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the top of the steps, waiting to disembark. Cameron had insisted on going first, making a grand entrance for the waiting local paparazzi, while the staff hung around in her slipstream. ‘I don’t suppose you could convince the boss that drinking buckets and buckets of French champagne is very good for you? She’s got it into her head that alcohol is very bad, but I’d love a glass.’

He shook his head and frowned. ‘A cold beer would have been great, but...not for Cameron. She shouldn’t be drinking.’

‘Why not?’

He looked pensive. ‘Er...I suppose she has to maintain her figure for continuity reasons for the film. No alcohol for the foreseeable future.’

‘Spoilsport. I thought you might be on my side.’ But, then, she supposed, she’d pushed him away the other day so why should he do anything to please her? ‘Here goes. Down the steps... Now, don’t say anything as you walk by the cameras, just keep looking ahead. Oh, and could you take one of these, please? Peanut’s very wriggly again. I don’t think she likes flying.’

‘She’s definitely not one for cattle class, that’s for sure.’ Jake didn’t look enamoured about carrying a Chihuahua, and she had to admit that a beautiful, tall, toned man carrying a tiny dog did look funny. But he took it anyway, in one hand, and with the other he steadied her down the steps, a gentle touch on her elbow. For a second Lola felt as if she were the star, but the thrumming of her heart and the hot flush to her cheeks just highlighted the shy teenager inside her. Sometimes she didn’t know how Cameron dredged up all that confidence every day, every hour. It was exhausting.

The limo journey from the airport, under a cloudless bright blue sky, took them west past candy-coloured high-rise apartments and along palm-tree-lined roads, through a maze of canals towards Old Fort Bay and the many private residences dotted along the coastline. Beyond the fancy gates and majestic buildings Lola got a glimpse of white sandy beaches and a turquoise sea. Only the rich and famous bought homes here.

One day, she thought.

Wait... Oh, wow. Actually, today... The car turned right into a long gravel driveway, meandered through lush, verdant bushes and eventually came to a stop outside a large white colonial villa clothed in bright pink creeping bougainvillea. ‘Oh, my God. It’s gorgeous.’

Stunned, Lola bundled the dogs out of the car and gave instructions to the driver as Cameron disappeared into the house. This was way beyond anything she’d imagined.

‘I wasn’t expecting this. I thought we’d be at a resort or something with the others.’ Jake looked equally impressed as he carried luggage from the car boot to the door. He peered up at the magnificent building, then at the manicured front lawn and frowned. ‘Before we go in, Lola, can I ask you something?’

Uh-oh. If it was about the other night she’d just about die.

If it was about kissing again she would do that first, and then just about die. ‘Sure. What is it?’ It was as nonchalant as she could get, in between palpitations.

He pointed to the house. ‘What the hell has this all got to do with a space warrior odyssey?’

She breathed out, a flicker of disappointment subsumed by good old common sense. Then she laughed, because she was a damned fool to even think... He wasn’t the kind of guy to try again after rejection. ‘Oh. Well, it’s a flashback scene or a dream sequence, going back to pre-apocalyptic Earth, or something. But between you and me I think it’s just a good excuse for a jolly.’

He gave her a funny look. ‘A jolly what?’

‘A jolly. It means...it means a work thing that’s really just all about play.’

‘You Brits say the strangest things.’ But he was laughing and for a moment the air between them seemed less strained. Maybe, if they kept their conversations superficial, and maintained a decent distance, they could reach some sort of friendly equilibrium after all. Maybe he could be in one wing and she’d isolate herself in the opposite one. The place was certainly big enough. Yes, distance was the solution.

A young woman appeared at the door and explained in a melodic Bahamian accent that she was Tina, the housekeeper, and to please leave everything to her. ‘Miss Fontaine has requested sole use of the house. I have put you and the... Dr Jake...’ The woman peered up at Jake and smiled. For a moment Lola thought the housekeeper was going to curtsy or kiss him, or just old-fashioned swoon. ‘Good afternoon, Dr Jake. Welcome to The Haven. I hope you’ll be happy here.’

He shook her outstretched hand. ‘I’m sure I will. Thank you, Tina.’

‘Anything you want, just go right ahead and ask,’ Tina sighed.

Lola sighed too, but hers was more through irritation. That’s right, lady, keep right on looking. I’ve kissed that mouth.

A strange and breath-sapping spike of something lodged underneath Lola’s ribcage. Must have been the raw taco shells not agreeing with her, she decided, and nothing at all to do with a fierce possessive streak that scuttled through her. Jake was not her property and she would not be jealous of women looking at him like that. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, he was dashing and charming. So what? No big deal.

She’d switched off momentarily and hadn’t heard what the housekeeper had been saying, but as she tapped behind her across the marble floors through the palatial house, then out past a huge infinity pool, Lola realised that they were being taken to a different building.

‘In here, please, Miss Bennett.’ They’d stopped outside a smaller, single-storey villa, cream and white with another deep red bush growing up the side, a small picket-fenced garden and a wrought-iron outside table for two on a deck overlooking the ocean. It was more private and secluded than the grand villa. It was, in fact, like a cosy honeymoon retreat.

No. No flipping way. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She couldn’t...wouldn’t...shouldn’t be here with him. She should be in the big house, tending to her boss’s every need. Even that was preferable to being in a honeymoon hideaway with Jake. ‘I...er...there’s been a mistake...’

‘No. No mistake.’ Oblivious to Lola’s growing panic, the housekeeper was still chattering away. ‘The Lodge is for you and the doctor to share at Miss Fontaine’s insistence. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. There are interconnecting phones to the main house in the kitchen, the lounge and each bedroom. But Miss Fontaine said, please, to let her rest for a few hours. She will call if she needs anything.’

‘Okay.’ Lola blew out a big breath. This was so not what she’d had in mind for superficial and distant. But if there was one thing she knew about her boss it was that she wouldn’t change her mind once it was made up. She and Jake would be sharing. Period. ‘Well, first, I need to get the dogs some water and some shade. It’s too hot for them. I could take them for a walk around the grounds. I saw a lovely little shaded area they could play in back near the big house.’ Anything to distract her from the fact that she would be sharing living quarters with a god.

Tina smiled as she bent to give the dogs a stroke. ‘Aren’t they adorable? The beach out front is private, so they can run around there under the trees. I have a little dog of my own over in the staff annexe, they can come play any time. I can take them now, give you a break?’

‘Thanks, but the walk will do us good after being cooped up on a plane.’ Truthfully, it was just an excuse for some Jake-free time.

But the traitorous puppies pattered quietly into the cool lodge, obviously exhausted from their first-class travelling ordeal, found a plump cushion each on a white rattan sofa and fell asleep.

The housekeeper fussed around the light, bright house, showing them the modern kitchen facilities, the menu—because, yes, The Haven had its own chef—and the well-stocked pantry and fridge. Then she left, leaving them to decide who had which bedroom, and what the hell to do next.

And then there were two.

Lola glanced over at Jake, who was staring at the beach out of a huge picture window in the lounge. ‘Er...how shall I put this? Do you want to have a look at the bedrooms and decide where you want to sleep?’

Eyebrows rising, Jake grinned. ‘Now you’re talking.’

‘I didn’t mean... No. I meant—’

‘I was joking, Lola. Don’t look so worried. Take whichever room you want and I’ll have the other.’ He bent and unzipped his bag, grabbed something from it. ‘I’m going for a swim while I have the chance. Coming?’

She imagined him in board shorts. A naked chest. Bare skin. Soaking wet. And swallowed through a dry throat. ‘Er... No. I don’t want to leave these little guys on their own and I really do need to unpack. And Cameron might call...and I’m thirsty...’ And...she was rambling again.

‘Hey.’ He stepped closer. ‘Don’t worry, Lola. It’s all under control. How about I have a swim, then take over childcare while you go and cool off? A roster system?’

‘Oh, okay, that sounds great. Thanks. It is very hot. And I could do with a swim. Later, when you get back.’

The smile slipped. ‘Sure. And that way we need never be in the same room for longer than a few moments. Just at cross-over. That’s what you want? Right?’

Her heart began to hammer—he was very forthright when he wanted to be. Direct and to the point. She supposed he had to be in his line of work—couldn’t pussy-foot around a bad diagnosis. But it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She wasn’t used to people speaking their minds quite so openly. Besides, she didn’t know what she wanted in relation to their living arrangements. ‘I just think...in light of the other night...it would be better if our paths didn’t cross so much.’

‘Understood.’ He took a step away, then turned. ‘It was only a kiss, Lola. We can move on.’

‘Of course. Yes! Only a kiss! I’ve already moved on. No problem!’ As if she kissed people she’d just met all the time.

Only a kiss, yes. But a very nice one at that. And she didn’t kiss strangers. Ever. She didn’t kiss random men. She didn’t kiss men she thought were just okay. She kissed men she liked. And she liked Jake. That was a massive part of the problem. She liked him. Too much, it seemed. ‘You’d better go get changed then.’

While she wandered into the open-plan kitchen, he disappeared into a bathroom, returning moments later with a white towel looped round his shoulders, beach shorts slung low over slender hips. She tried very hard not to look, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. He was there, walking across the room, larger than life. Her gaze travelled upwards from his hips, past a smattering of dark hair, tanned washboard abs, a broad chest, to a smirking mouth.

For a few seconds she remembered the taste of him. The heat. And she clung to the kitchen countertop as the same heat shimmered through her. How the hell would she be able to stay here with that kind of reaction going on?

And when her eyes settled on his she knew that it was going to be almost impossible. There was humour there in his eyes, and teasing, and it fired an unwanted need in her core.

She dragged her eyes away, found a voice, albeit fractured. ‘Enjoy.’

‘You look like you just did.’ He winked. ‘See you later.’

CHAPTER SIX

LOLA WAS PROUD of herself. She’d managed to spend the rest of the day in avoidance mode. Had eaten dinner with Jake and Cameron, which had passed pleasantly enough with small talk and chit-chat about movies and brain surgery—although, Lola noticed, he hadn’t offered to show Cameron how to do wide-awake surgery with chopsticks, and he was just a little more reserved around the actress.

Then Lola had taken the dogs for a late-night walk on her own, and had returned to find a quiet lodge. Jake had gone to bed and there’d been no further awkward conversation. She’d fallen asleep after only a couple of hours lying in bed wondering what the hell tomorrow would bring.

And thinking about his mouth. That body. That smile.

In the next damned room.

And how she was going to survive being stuck in close proximity to him?

After her morning puppy walk she returned to find the interconnecting phone ringing and no Jake in sight. Thank God. ‘Hello!’

‘Lola, honey, it’s me.’

‘Hi, Cameron! Beautiful day.’

‘Sure is. Listen, Alfredo wants to take me on a boat trip to one of the private islands this morning, meet some of his friends. Take care of the babies, will you? They wouldn’t be safe on a boat. I’ll be back after lunch, then we can all go to the set.’

‘Of course. Have fun. See you later.’

‘Was that Cameron?’ Jake’s voice behind her made her heart bounce to a jerky beat.

She steadied it before turning to find him dressed in workout gear and slightly out of breath. After yesterday’s staring faux pas she’d promised herself not to look too closely, so settled on trying to get the swanky coffee machine to work. She fiddled with the little shiny plastic capsules, chose a silver one, popped it in. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Been for a run?’

‘Working out. There’s a gym in the basement up at the house. I thought I might see Cameron there, but she didn’t appear. What’s the plan?’ He wandered to the cabinet, pulled out a cup. Back in her line of vision. He looked sweaty, arm muscles pumped. Hair dishevelled. All kinds of hot. No. Not looking.

‘Cameron probably worked out last night—she prefers to do it in the evenings. She’s going out, back around noon, then we’re to accompany her to the set.’

Jake was staring at her with a strange look on his face, which he wiped as soon as he realised she was watching him. ‘So we have a free morning?’

‘Just Cameron-free. Three hours or so.’ Lola added skimmed milk to her coffee and started making his. Trying not to make eye contact. It felt as if she’d said something wrong, but couldn’t put her finger on anything relevant. Or maybe it was just the kiss hovering between them again. She needed to get out. ‘I have a ton of stuff to do. Actually, I’ll go and make a start.’

His hand on her wrist stopped her, his heat seeping into her skin and through her body. ‘You haven’t had your coffee, Lola.’

‘Thanks. No. Well...I can take it with...’ She couldn’t take her eyes off his hand, long fingers, neat nails. Skilled and powerful, whether holding chopsticks, a scalpel or probes. Hands that had cupped her face so intensely.

Yes, that kiss was definitely there, the huge elephant in the room. She swallowed deeply.

He looked down and hurriedly drew his hand away from her wrist. And she wanted to grab his hand and put it right back, but he pulled out some croissants from the bread bin. ‘I’m never going to survive on a skinny actress’s rabbit food. I asked the chef to get something decent for us to eat. You want some? I won’t tell anyone, it’ll be our secret?’

‘No, thanks.’

He watched her. ‘You don’t like them or don’t want them? Two different things.’

‘I’m trying to be healthy. There’s some fruit in the fridge, I’ll have that.’ There was also champagne, she’d noted, and wondered if he’d requested that too. She watched as flaky crumbs dropped from his lip onto the plate and her stomach rumbled. God, she wanted a bite. And not just of the croissant.

As if he could read her mind, he held it out to her. ‘Believe me, if you eat with Cameron every day you’ll be more than healthy but not very happy. Or full. And definitely not satisfied. Besides, the brain is made up of sixty per cent fat—we need it to think, work, be. So come on, just a mouthful. This is delicious. All that butter. So good.’ He bent and rummaged in the bread bin again, pulled out another pastry. ‘Oh, look, here’s one with chocolate. Chocolate for breakfast—sinful. In the Bahamas...in the sunshine. Just a small piece. Come on...I promise not to tell a soul.’

‘Oh, go on, then, just a little bit. I have zero will-power.’ She laughed, taking the pain au chocolat and tearing off a piece, which she unashamedly popped into her mouth. It was indeed delicious. ‘So you’re being my enabler now? The chocolate is the gateway drug, then the croissant is the road to hell.’

He dipped his head to look her directly in the eyes. ‘I’m just trying to be friendly. The way I see it, we have to get along here. We have a small house and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. Either we try to put the kiss behind us and make a fresh start, or one of us will have to explain to Cameron our predicament and ask to bunk in with her. I can’t see that going down well. But I can’t live with tension and awkwardness here either.’

Again the direct approach. It was confronting, but also refreshing. She studied him for a moment. Those dark blue eyes weren’t playing her, but actually genuinely trying to reach a solution. She could do this. ‘Okay. Fresh start.’

‘Great. Eat. Good?’

Was it rude to tear it apart with her teeth? ‘Oh, God, yes. Brain food? Just think how much more clever I’ll be after eating it.’

‘I didn’t say it would make you more clever. But what the hell...if it makes you eat, genius. Now, if only I had something to drink too...’

‘Oh, your coffee...I forgot.’ She put the pastry down for a moment while she found him a purple plastic capsule and set the machine. In a few moments the sounds of gurgling filled the silence.

Once he’d finished eating he gave her a satisfied smile. ‘I was just talking to Tina up at the house. She says there’s some excellent snorkelling over near Lyford Cay. If we had time we could charter a boat and go further offshore, but we only have a couple hours—there’s still some interesting fish just off the beach. You fancy heading off and having a look? We can take a couple of motor scooters.’

‘What? Now?’ Up close and personal with a semi-naked Jake? No way. Once was bad enough. Or, rather, good enough. Too good. That wasn’t her idea of a fresh start. ‘What about Cameron?’

‘Well, we’re here to work, but we can’t work if the boss isn’t around, now, can we?’ He shook his head. ‘Have you ever snorkelled in the Bahamas before? Ridden a motor scooter?’

Sharing a standing-up breakfast was one thing, sharing a half-naked adventure was something altogether different. ‘Snorkelling? Motor scooters? My job isn’t the same as yours, Jake, waiting around until someone gets sick. I have other things to do. Lots of things.’

‘Can they wait?’

‘Says the self-confessed workaholic.’

‘Yes, I am... But Tina said if we do nothing else while we’re here we must do some snorkelling. She has all the gear. And I’m hardly extending my surgical skills sitting around here, am I? What will I do...? Practise my injection technique on an orange?’

He picked up an orange from the fruit bowl and threw it into the air and caught it. Then picked up another and juggled the two. Then three. His arms flexed as he threw and caught in effortless yet hypnotising fluid movements. She could see his back muscles tighten and release, his shoulders working, the wry smile as he concentrated, almost meditative. God, he was...well, her gut prickled with heat. She became acutely aware that there was just the two of them here. That kiss may have been put aside, but the way it made it her feel hadn’t been. Her fingers shook as she started to fill the dishwasher just to do something other than watch him. He caught the oranges in one hand and smiled again.

‘You did that?’ Her voice was thick with need. She coughed, tried not to think about his body, lowered her voice an octave. ‘You injected oranges?’

‘Yes, to get the angle right. And practised my suturing on pigskin...then on humans...my classmates, myself...’ He put the oranges back, serious again. ‘Okay, you’re right. I hear you on the work issue. I have to catch up on some reading and there’s research I’m assisting with...’

For just a few minutes he’d been carefree and fun, and she didn’t want to lose that Jake to a serious Jake. But how could she go with him when she felt like this? ‘It sounds lovely...maybe another time. Tomorrow, if we get a chance. There’s a list of errands I need to do today. I can’t take off and play. Besides, we have the dogs to think about.’

‘Tina could have the dogs. I could help you with the errands when we get back.’

Lola lifted her smartphone from the countertop and scrolled through her task list. ‘Because finding a decent manicurist on Nassau who can drop everything and come over as Cameron requires is the kind of thing you do every day.’

‘Whoa. I didn’t realise it would be that kind of difficult.’ He looked horrified, eyes wide and panicked. ‘That sounds way out of my comfort zone. Give me something easier to do, I don’t know...negotiate world peace? But first snorkel?’

What could she say? I’d like to, but if there was ever a possibility of drowning in lust I’d be victim number one. ‘I just...’

‘You just what?’ He was scrutinising her face, his jaw taut, eyes narrowed. Then his whole body stilled. ‘Ah. I get it, now. You just...don’t want to snorkel with me, that right? Sorry I took so long to catch on.’ Grabbing his half-finished coffee, he started to walk outside to the deck and the mood turned decidedly dark. ‘I hear ya, loud and clear, Lola. I won’t bother you again.’

He’d gone way past serious Jake and was somewhere on the edge of angry Jake. She followed him outside, feeling hollowed out. ‘Jake, I do want to go snorkelling. It sounds fun. I’ll come. I was trying to be dedicated to my work... You of all people know how that is.’ Did he believe her?

‘Yeah, I do. But, you know, for one second there I thought, Let’s stuff work for a while. But don’t worry, I’ll go on my own.’

‘No. No, I’ll come. I want to, really. I’m sorry. Please.’

He looked at her, weighing up her words. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking and her stomach knotted. But eventually he nodded, his enthusiasm around twenty per cent of what it had been. ‘Okay. Let’s think time management, then. How about one-hour blocks? One hour to snorkel. One hour to travel there and back, shower... One hour for work?’

‘Okay. I’ll get my things ready.’

He nodded, but the oomph had leached out of him. ‘I’ll take the pups up to Tina, then meet you at the garages—apparently there’s every kind of vehicle we might need in there.’

Looked like she didn’t have a choice.

* * *

This was the worst damned idea he’d had in years.

Jake watched as Lola discarded her T-shirt and shorts and stood a little away from him on the sand, with a towel tightly wrapped around herself. Underneath, he knew, she was wearing a black bikini that covered her curves well enough, but did nothing to hide her great figure. He swallowed, trying not to look too closely...but in the end it didn’t really matter, as his body was hell-bent on reacting anyway. His mouth watered at the thought of her perfect mouth, and his fingers craved to smooth down her wind-wild hair. Never mind the tight clutch low down in his belly that had him turning away from her. Thank God there was cold water close by.

Working would have been a much better idea but here he was, instead, with a reluctant accomplice and a serious case of hot lust. Why he’d even bothered to invite her he didn’t know. Playing hooky for once in his thirty-three years had seemed like a good idea when talking to Tina. Harmless.

In truth, he should have stayed back at the house and tried to catch Cameron for that conversation he still hadn’t had with her. It had been such a temptation to talk to Lola about the pregnancy—obviously confidentiality meant he never could—but he got the feeling Cameron needed more than him looking out for her.

‘Have you got a wetsuit? Rash guard? The sun’s fierce, you don’t want to get burnt,’ he growled at Lola, taking a step away from her. He didn’t want to have to rub sunscreen on to that gorgeous body, or they’d never actually get into the ocean.

And what he needed more than anything was a dose of cold seawater to sluice away the physical ache he had for her—especially seeing her right now; lush red curls against creamy pale skin, breasts that threatened to break free from flimsy string masquerading as a bikini, and a waist that looked the perfect size for his hands to grip.

‘Yes, boss. Here.’ She turned and held up a pink neoprene jacket and put it on, zipping up the front. Thank God.

He couldn’t get his head around the fact that the kiss had seemed real and wanted on both sides, and yet now she wanted to be anywhere other than with him. But he’d got the message, and she was right. There were too many reasons to prevent him getting involved with anyone, let alone a woman who had such a serious effect on his equilibrium.

‘Tina said that over by the rocks was the best place to start. There’s some coral there, so take care not to stand on it, we don’t want to damage it.’ And with that he turned and made his way down towards the water, fins and mask in hand.

But she was with him in two strides.

‘So, isn’t this the best look ever?’ Laughing, Lola dragged her mask over her face and made piggy eyes at him as she pulled the mouth tube into her mouth.

Actually, it was a pretty damned sexy look, and he was shocked by how much he wanted to haul her to him, even with a plastic mask on. So he dived deep into the clear, cool water and got on with fish-spotting.

Jake was always surprised at the serenity of the ocean; all that busy activity down there, yet little sound save for the ebb and flow of waves and the echo of his heartbeat in his ears. The sun warmed his back as a whole new world opened up below him. The little underwater gardens were teeming with life and there was enough interest to grab his attention away from the hunger Lola had started in his gut.

They followed the curve of the bay out west, floating and bobbing with the tide, popping up for air as and when they needed it, agreeing on a course to follow, then swimming and watching and pointing at the sea life. Lola was an excellent snorkeller, easily excited by the large black manta ray gliding along the seabed and the schools of pretty purple and electric-blue fish that darted back and forth in front of them.

Then she kicked away to follow a shoal of bright yellow spotted ones, and for a few moments he was alone—just skimming along the top of the water looking down into the rhythmic swaying of the seaweed on the coral.

His heart rate slowed, and for the first time since he’d set foot in the Caribbean he began to relax. The cool water washed over him and with it his sense of equilibrium and purpose was renewed. It was only a few days in the Bahamas, they could rub along together for that, fill their days with activities and surround themselves with other people. Soon enough they’d be back to LA and their normal lives. After that, the filming would swiftly wrap up and he’d have no reason to see her again. With time, he hoped, this ache would die and she’d just be a quaint memory. Like the other women who’d flitted in and out of his life.

It would all work out fine.

He didn’t know how long they’d been there, but suddenly the water turned choppy. Expecting the wave wash of a boat or a jet ski, he lifted his head out of the water and came face-to-face with a grinning Lola. She ripped the mouth tube from her lips and pointed out to sea. ‘Look! Look! Dolphins.’

Sure enough, a pod of bottlenose dolphins was diving and playing in the deeper reef. ‘Oh, yeah. Pretty cool.’

As she trod water she gripped his shoulder. ‘Cool? It’s flipping amazing. Look at them, showing off, playing together. Do you think we could swim with them? D’you think?’

‘You’ll have to be quick.’ And before he could argue she’d grabbed his hand and was half swimming and half dragging him through the waves, trying to catch them up. For little more than a few minutes the dolphins gave them a magical show of their skills, corkscrewing over and over, darting underneath their legs and popping up behind them. One of them took a liking to Lola and pushed his nose at her. She reached out and touched him before he darted away. He returned twice and played the same teasing game—pushing his nose at her, waiting for her to reach and then disappearing into the foam. Then, just as quickly as they’d appeared, they were all off in a display of enthusiasm, swimming faster than humanly possible and disappearing into the distance.

‘Wow...I can’t... This is so...’ Lola stopped and grasped his hand again, coughing as she took off her mask. The outlines of the rubber seal had marked her pretty face, but she was grinning widely, tears shimmering in her eyes. She looked so damned beautiful it made his chest constrict. ‘I don’t know what to say. That was... Oh, my God! Dolphins. That was so amazing.’

‘Yeah. Very cool.’ He took off his mask too and affected an English accent. ‘Pretty flipping amazing, actually.’ Like she was, with bright golden flashes in her dark brown eyes, her hair slicked back, droplets of water falling from her eyelashes. A mouth that he ached to taste all over again.

‘Yes, it is. All of it. Everything...’ Her voice cracked. She looked at him as she held onto his shoulder, her legs working beneath the surface to keep her upright, while something passed between them. Something electric, something real and hot. Everything felt as it had when they’d kissed, the charge in the air was the same—an almost tangible shimmer between them.

But that couldn’t be right, because she’d said... What had she said? That she was messing things up for him. But here she wasn’t messing up anything, here she was making the trip a whole lot more bearable. But he was useless at reading signals, especially in ten feet of water when words and actions didn’t gel. ‘Lola, we should probably go now.’

‘But—’

‘We need to get back. An hour for each, we agreed.’ He made a start for the shore, leaving the cooler depths behind and entering the warmer water where it was almost shallow enough to stand up, had it not been for the coral gardens beneath their feet.

‘Wait. Stop a minute.’ Panting, she caught up with him, grasped his arm. ‘Thank you for bringing me here. I’m sorry I was so hard to convince. I don’t want to get in the way of your work. I know how important that is to you.’

‘Yeah, but you can’t work all the time. People keep telling me.’ He reached and wiped some water from her cheek. It was cold out here but heat exploded through him. All the more reason to get the hell out. ‘But we can’t put it off forever either. We’d better make a start back.’

‘Stop.’ She reached for his jaw and ran her palm over his cheek. ‘Do we need to think about work right now?’

Her legs made little swirling kicks around him. He could feel the rhythmic movement, and a need to have her wrap those legs around his hips almost overwhelmed him.

He should have turned and swam away then. He should have listened to the voice in his head reminding him of what she’d said. But he did neither. Instead, he put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer. And, yes—it was a perfect fit for his palm. ‘What do you want to think about?’

‘Actually, I don’t feel much like thinking at all.’ She looked up from beneath long eyelashes adorned with droplets like a hundred tiny diamonds highlighting the flashes of colour in her eyes and the intensity of need.

His heart was raging a wild tattoo in his chest. Because even though he was lame at reading signals, he was pretty sure he knew what this one was saying. And, for the record, Lola was nothing like the others. She was special. Unique. ‘What do you feel like doing?’

‘I want to kiss you again.’ She wriggled closer into his open arms and slanted her wet mouth against his, and all thoughts of work and conflicting signals, and all the reasons to stop fled from his brain. He dragged her hard against him and kissed her back.

She tasted of salt and the sea, she tasted fresh and hot and hungry. As she entwined her legs with his he pushed his fingers into her hair, cradled her head and relished the press of her glorious curves against him. Her hand ran down his back as she moaned into his mouth, fingernails grasping at his skin.

Slowly he nipped along her bottom lip then kissed along her collarbone to the soft hollow at her throat, and she tilted her head back and laughed.

‘God, Jake, I’ve been dreaming about this.’

‘You too?’ He tugged the zip on her neoprene and slowly freed her breasts, slid his palm over one as he took her mouth again. Beneath his fingers her nipples contracted to tight buds and he coaxed them, first gently stroking then—reluctantly leaving her mouth—he was licking them against the rise and fall of the ocean.

It was like a crazy dream—a beautiful woman, a deserted beach, the reach and grasp of a delicious need that spiralled through him.

‘Oh, yes.’ She pulled his mouth from her nipple and cupped his face, anchoring him to her, deepening the kiss, hard and wet, pulsing in time with the waves. The kiss became urgent, the need for her almost frantic. He was so hard. So hard for her and she knew it as she wriggled against him and groaned with pleasure.

Laughing, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and as she did so, something wrapped tight around his heart and tugged. The light sound of her carefree laughter, the sway of the ocean waves, the rush of adrenalin and heat filled him with more than desire. He wanted her, too much.

It would have been so easy to slide back her bikini bottoms and thrust into her there, but reality began to seep into his brain. There was no future in this, and Lola was the kind of woman who would want the fairy-tale future in the end. Regardless of what she may say or do now, he couldn’t promise her anything apart from a good time and a goodbye.

She was fresh and untainted, she was something new and good. And, when it came down to it, he wasn’t. Not where women were concerned. He didn’t want them to cloud his vision, to distract him. He had a lot to achieve—a debt to repay. He didn’t want to have to consider another person.

Lola deserved to be considered.

He pulled away and held her wrists. ‘Lola, we need to stop this.’

‘Yes, God, my legs are killing me, treading water. Let’s get to dry land...and then...you know...there’s not a soul on the beach and I see a secluded place...’

He shook his head. ‘Let’s talk once we get to the beach.’

‘Talk?’ She almost flinched, the hit to her gut was visible, but she slowly absorbed it. Her smile slipped as she realised what he was saying. For a second he thought she was going to agree with him, but she hit her open palm hard on the top of the water so spray arced over him. ‘You know what, Jake? You are so damned annoying.’

Then she started to swim hard towards the shore.

After a minute or so she stopped and turned to him, breathless, angry, legs kicking beneath the surface. ‘I don’t get it. I don’t get why you do all that and then listen to whatever it was in your head telling you to stop. Because I know you want to kiss me, Jake. I know you want to fool around and I do too. So why the hell—? Ow! Oh. Wow.’ She gasped sharply, then again as her face contorted in pain and she started to thrash under the water. ‘Go. To. Hell—Ow! Ow!’

‘Lola? What’s wrong?’

‘I—? Leave. Me. Alone.’ She bobbed under the water, grasping at her leg. When she resurfaced she was blinking back tears, pressing her hand to her mouth and trying to stay afloat.

Jake’s heart hammered. ‘What’s wrong? Lola, what’s happened?’

‘Something stung me. Bit me? Ow...’ Her face was pinched and he could see she was fighting pain. ‘Oh, what the hell do you care anyway?’

‘Quite a damned lot, actually.’ The reality of that gave him a powerful thump to his solar plexus. This was not the time for arguing or playing stupid games.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘CALM DOWN. TAKE A deep breath. Breathe, Lola. And again. That’s it. Good. It’s okay. I’ve got you.’ Jake’s arms wrapped round her as he kicked hard towards the beach. Her leg felt as if someone was holding a hot poker against it, the burn ripped through the flesh to the bone. She clung on to his shoulders as he powered through the waves.

She just wanted the pain to stop. I will not cry. ‘Jellyfish? D’you think it’s a jellyfish? Are there more? Don’t get stung too.’ She had to shout over the roar of waves and the rush of white noise in her head, though it came out like a panicked, high-pitched squeal.

‘I didn’t see anything swimming around... But, then, I was distracted...’ He hauled in oxygen, breathing hard as he bore the weight of the two of them. ‘Could be anything. Lola, keep still.’

‘It hurts.’

‘I know it does.’ And he was there for her, holding her, saving her. Regardless of what he’d said about the kissing. He was there, she’d remember that—once she’d got over the pain and the humiliation of being rejected. Again.

In no time at all they reached the beach and he laid her on the sand at the water’s edge and bathed her leg with cooling seawater. His eyes had lost the heat she’d seen before, but there was something else there—concern, hesitation. ‘How’s it feeling now?’

‘Okay. And stop being so bloody nice to me.’ It made things a million times worse, and made her like him even more.

‘First time anyone’s ever complained about me being considerate.’ His tone was kind and patient, in contrast to hers.

‘That’s because you’re showing me your nice side, but I know you have a bad side. And, no, it’s not okay any more. Every time you stop bathing it hurts even more. I think I’ll keep the water on it.’ She bit her lip and shuffled deeper into the water, scanning first for any rogue jellyfish that might have followed them. ‘My heart’s racing really fast.’

‘It’s probably just adrenalin from the shock—you’ll be fine. Just sit a while. Try more deep breaths. In...slowly...and now out...that’s it.’ Calmly he took her hand, pressed two fingers just below her thumb and focused. After way longer than a minute he was still holding her wrist, his palm stroking her skin. Now her heart was beating erratically for an altogether different reason. Again in that considerate tone he said, ‘Here, lean against me. Keep your foot in the water until you feel you can stand. Then I’ll take you to a clinic.’

‘Clinic? I don’t have time... We’ve got to get back. Cameron needs us.’

‘Cameron will have to wait.’

‘Seriously? Have you tried telling her to do anything she doesn’t...?’ But the searing burn was turning now into an aggravating itch. She wanted to tear at her skin. When she looked down she saw huge red welts and blisters starting to appear. So she leaned against him anyway, taking strength from his heat, her fist coiled into his. ‘It’s starting to itch like crazy. Don’t suppose you have jellyfish antidotes back at the lodge?’

‘Sure, I have something for every kind of emergency; polar-bear bait, black widow spider anti-venin. Zombie-killer stakes.’ He pushed her matted hair away from her face with his free hand and pressed a kiss on to the top of her head—as he would to a child. ‘No, oddly, I don’t have jellyfish antidote, even if there is such a thing, but usually you just need cold water and something acidic. Seriously, we’ve got to get it seen by someone. If it was a jellyfish—and it may have been something else—we need to get the right treatment. Some of them are deadly.’

‘And now you’re making me feel so much better about this. But apart from wanting to rip my skin off, I think I’ll take a chance on walking.’ She let him haul her up from the sand and watched while he gathered their things together, then she let him half carry her as she hopped towards the motor scooters. ‘Maybe the cool rush of air as I’m scooting along will help.’

‘You are not driving that scooter on your own, Lola. You’re shaking; you won’t be able to steer. Climb on the front of mine. I’ll send someone to pick yours up later.’ Then he made a quick phone call, flicked his cell phone back into his bag and indicated for her to sit in front of him, old-fashioned side-saddle style.

‘I... Oh, okay.’ She didn’t want to, but she did anyway, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her head against the solid wall of his chest, breathing in the scent of man and elements and some flowery fragrance from the beautiful blooms all around them, but she didn’t care about that. All she could think of was the pain and the itch and the kiss and the way he’d felt, so hard, so hungry for her. The way he’d turned away from her, denying what he’d so obviously wanted.

And the way he’d looked at her when she’d been hurt, as if he’d do everything in his power to help her. If he hadn’t been so nice she’d have bawled him out all the more for stopping the kissing. Because here she was, with a guy who was the hottest thing on two legs and who also had a damned conscience.

* * *

‘That’s fire coral rash, pretty sure, Dr Jake.’ Tina was standing over the couch, hands on her ample hips, peering at Lola’s leg. Thankfully the painkillers were kicking in and the intense burning was subsiding, but the itch was driving her mad and there were still angry red welts on her ankle. Not to mention swelling.

And outright humiliation. Typical. Only she would be in the middle of paradise and get attacked by a man-eating plant.

‘Fire coral?’ Jake frowned. ‘What’s that?’

‘Looks like coral, but has venom,’ Tina explained. ‘She’ll live. Vinegar to kill the barbs. Then you can tweezer them out.’

‘Great. I saw some vinegar in the kitchen and I’ll go grab my medical kit.’ Jake nodded. He’d been nothing but focused on her comfort since the second she’d screamed at him in the sea. ‘She needs a hot drink for the shock. If you can get that sorted for me, please.’

‘Sure. She looks mighty pale.’ Tina shook her head and frowned.

He frowned too. ‘She’ll be okay with rest and something to raise her blood sugar.’

‘Hey. I am here.’ Tired of being talked over, Lola managed a smile. ‘You can talk to me if you like. Tina, yes, I’d love a drink if you have time to make me one. And, no, Jake, you’re not going anywhere near me with vinegar and tweezers. I can do it myself.’

‘Really? You can twist your body at that kind of an angle and rip nematocysts out like a pro? This I’ve got to see. Wait right there.’

He dashed out of the room as Lola leaned back on the sofa, closed her eyes and groaned. She did not want to be beholden to him and she did not want him touching her again with all that kind consideration. Really, they needed to talk, not touch. Touching brought about way too many hot thoughts and not enough searing reality.

She didn’t need reminding that her particular searing reality was that she was here to work and not mess about with a doctor, no matter how much her body had other ideas. And now, accompanying Cameron to the location shoot was looking pretty touch and go. ‘Oh...why me?’

‘Because, Miss Bennett, you didn’t have a full wetsuit on.’

Lola had forgotten the housekeeper was still there. ‘Oh, sorry, Tina, I was thinking about how I was going to manage to work this afternoon.’

‘You won’t, no arguing.’ It was Jake again, back with them and holding his large black medical bag, which he set down on the floor. ‘Tina, it’s okay, we can manage here, thanks. I don’t want to take up any more of your time...except I’d be grateful if you could take the dogs for a while. Lola, you’re going to stay there and rest.’

Lola sat up. ‘I can’t do that. There’s too much—’

‘Shh. I’m the doctor and you’ll do what I say. I’ll go with Cameron. Once we’ve got the barbs out you can get some rest. You’ve had a bad shock.’ Not as shocking as necking in an ocean, to be honest, but there it was. He lifted her swollen leg onto a footstool, on which he’d laid out a dressing pack and drape, then he crouched down. ‘Now, this is going to sting so I’ll go slowly.’

‘It won’t sting if I do it.’ She reached for the tweezers, bent her legs and shuffled so she could see the barbs. She didn’t want him to see her frustrated tears or her weakest moments. She just wanted him to go and leave her to recover in peace.

He watched, eyebrows peaked. ‘And pray tell me how you’ll stop the sting if I can’t?’

‘I don’t know. Just let me do it and stop asking questions.’

‘Okay. Go right ahead.’ He rocked back on his heels and smirked as she tried to reach, couldn’t quite, and twisted some more. She got a deep ache low in her back. And still the barbs were stuck in her leg. ‘Go on, Lola, I’m waiting.’

‘Okay, clever clogs, you do it then.’ She all but threw the tweezers at him.

He rocked forward and grabbed them. ‘Stop me any time, there’s no hurry.’

‘No problem.’ She wasn’t sure where this big brave act was coming from, but in truth she didn’t want to owe him anything or to let him see how upset she felt. She was a grown-up, smart adult woman—she could deal with this. ‘I’ll be fine.’

His eyes were gentle and warm as he smiled. ‘Sure you will. You can handle anything, Lola.’

‘Yep.’ At least one of them had some faith in her. She sucked in a breath as he touched her leg, sending shivers of pain through her calf. She would not shout. She would not cry.

He paused, tweezers in mid-air, and it was worse to see compassion mixed with teasing in his eyes. ‘It is okay to scream. I have ear plugs somewhere.’

‘Get on with it, man. The suspense is killing me more than the damned venom ever will.’

The next few minutes passed in a blur of angry stinging, fierce tensing of muscles she hadn’t known she had and almost ripping the stuffing from the chair arm. When Jake felt satisfied he’d removed every barb, he smoothed cream over the now very puce ankle and calf and gave her another dose of painkiller. ‘You did well. Lie back and get some rest. I’m going up to the house to talk Cameron into letting you stay here.’

‘Good luck with that. I doubt she’ll be happy. It’s okay. Give me a few minutes for the pain to calm down and I’ll come with you.’

‘You’ll stay right there, missy.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or you’ll get a spanking.’ His hand was on the door but instead of leaving he looked at her and shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

She smiled on a sigh. ‘Promises...promises.’

‘Lola...’ There was a warning in his voice but a glint in his eyes.

‘I know, I know. Timing. Work. Stuff. Life. I get it. If you look for excuses you’ll find them.’

‘They’re everywhere, Lola. I don’t need to look. Now, I’m going to tell Cameron that you have to stay here.’

‘My money’s on an immediate departure to the set for all of us, dogs included.’

But Cameron, it seemed, had other ideas. Very surprising.

Apparently she insisted that her assistant stay at the lodge and that Jake stay with her. A situation they both found irritating. More Jake, it seemed.

He slumped down in the chair opposite Lola, grumbling, ‘She was surrounded by Alfredo’s guests and just wafted her hand and told me to stay with you as if it was no big deal that a top neurosurgeon was wasting his time here—and I couldn’t get to talk to her privately. She demanded I come all this way, cancel my clinics and rearrange my schedule, and now she doesn’t even need me to go with her, and won’t let me talk to her.’

Lola lifted her head from the couch then laid it back again when the room started to spin a little. ‘I think you’re just her insurance policy. She hasn’t been feeling great over the last few months on that stupid diet. She probably just needs to know you’re close by in case of emergency. You’re here, filming’s only a few miles away, she can call if she needs you.’

‘Which was exactly what she said to me.’

‘Why do you want to go anyway? Seems to me you don’t want to be here in the first place, so an afternoon off would suit you just fine.’

‘It’s my job.’ He shrugged, pulling out his laptop. ‘Right, if you’re okay with it I’ll log into the clinic intranet and get some work done. I can’t sit around doing nothing.’

‘Me neither.’ Lola swung her legs from the stool and tried to stand. It was relatively easy to bear weight, but the pain knocked the wind out of her lungs. ‘Oof.’

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He glared at her over the top of his computer screen.

‘Going to get my phone. I’ll do some ringing around, sort out a dress for Cameron for the after-shoot dinner tomorrow night.’

‘All that luggage and she didn’t bring a dress?’

‘Of course she did. I packed more than enough clothes for a whole month. But there are some fabulous Bahamian designers and she wants to try their clothes. I call, they send. She wears. Or not. It’s routine. She could make them a lot of money being seen in one of their creations. Top one on my list is Evelyn Rice—some of her dresses were worn at awards ceremonies earlier in the year and—’

‘Okay.’ Jake came over to her and made her sit back down, his hand slipping around her waist. He was comfortable around her body when there wasn’t the immediate threat of a kiss, it seemed. His voice was soothing. ‘I’ll get your phone. You can make one call. One. Then you need to do something that isn’t work. Solitaire? Knitting? Your script? Yes. Your script. This is legitimate sick time, which means no work—just relaxation.’

‘You know, you can be quite bossy when you try.’ But she had to agree it would be nice to sit and do something for herself. The extra-strong painkillers had started to make her head feel woozy and her limbs like melting honey—limpid and weak. She felt as if she was sinking and flying at the same time, which was doubly weird. ‘My phone’s in my beach bag and my script’s on my dresser in the bedroom.’

‘By the look of you, those meds are kicking in. Very soon you won’t want to do anything, you’ll be asleep in five minutes.’

When he came back she was still trying to find a comfortable position on the sofa. ‘The cushion doesn’t feel right.’ And she was indeed very tired. Very tired indeed.

‘Hold on.’ Jake put her phone and her script on the arm of the sofa and sat down next to her to plump up the cushion. ‘Better?’

‘Not really. But thank you for trying and for talking to Cameron. I know she doesn’t mean to be difficult, she’s just learnt to be like that. She can be really nice—she gave me a dress once, just because I liked it. But I get how everyone sees the bad in her when she gets so demanding. If I could just sell my screenplay then I wouldn’t have to stay... Where did you put it?’ Why was she only hearing her own voice? Was she talking too much? She probably was, but she couldn’t stop even though it was getting harder to control her mouth movements. She had to concentrate to say the words. ‘Ah, there it is. Thank you.’

‘Have you sent it to him to read yet?’

‘My dad?’ Her heart thumped once at the thought of what she’d done but then...she didn’t feel so bad right now... ‘No. I can’t. I haven’t... I should. But, oh, Jake, there’s too much... It’s hard...to explain...I will, though. I will send it to him...’ How to start that conversation? I know you think I’m in LA making the most of Cameron’s connections, but I lied and I keep on lying... ‘I’ll send it tomorrow. Maybe...I might have to...’

Jake ran his finger over her cheek. ‘Now I understand why he calls you a chatterbox. One tiny relaxant and you’re in full throttle. Let me know when you need me to reply, because the gaps you’re leaving aren’t big enough for me to get a word in.’

‘Oops, sorry.’

‘No need to apologise. Now read.’ Smiling, Jake lifted her leg and she kind of swung sideways and landed against his arm. Without thinking twice, she snuggled under and into his armpit. He was so warm and strong. Comfortable... And he smelt delicious. Her eyes started to close, her heart slowed a little and it was so tempting just to lie against him and... She should really look at her script, but she didn’t have the energy...

He gave her a little nudge. ‘Lola. Lola...don’t go to sleep here.’

‘Hmm?’

His voice was by her ear, warm and soft. ‘Maybe you should go to bed. You’ll be more comfortable.’

‘Hmm? No. I’m fine.’ There was an opportunity for more innuendo there, but she couldn’t move her mouth enough to say anything much. It was as if her brain was on a go-slow. She just wanted to lie here in his arms and let the pain drift away. ‘Can’t walk... Stay right here?’

When he didn’t answer she let herself fall further down into the black hole. When he nuzzled the top of her head she spiralled further and further... He was very close. Nice and close and warm. Her body started to tingle, starting first in her gut but then spreading through her, to her breasts and down low, deep inside. Half asleep and half turned on. No—all turned on, in a drowsy, calm, warm kind of way. Sex would be delicious right now. Sex with Jake would be more than delicious.

She managed to twist herself so she was facing him. His mouth was only inches from hers. His eyes glittered with concern and desire, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘Lola—’

Again a warning. She knew exactly what she wanted to do right now, and wondered if he thought the same thing. ‘Jake. I know you said—’

‘Hush.’ He placed a finger over her mouth. ‘You need some rest.’

She curled her hand around his finger and drew it away. Then she leaned close and pressed her mouth against his, because she couldn’t not. Because she knew it was what they both wanted. And for a brief moment she felt his hesitation, heard his low groan before his free hand cupped her cheek and he kissed her back, soft and gentle. She reached for his face, for the soft touch of his skin; she wanted to be sheathed in his scent, to taste him over and over and over.

This time the kiss went deeper than passion, to somewhere beyond the rabid desperation she felt inside. It stoked something fierce, something rare and beautiful. Something precious.

She didn’t want this to stop; she curled the back of her hand against his cheek and melted into the press of his lips against hers, into the dance of his tongue, the tight clutch of her stomach. This was something. He was something. Something important. Something good. For the first time ever she felt soul-deep that this was right.

When he drew away Jake was shaking and there were deep lines across his forehead. He looked unsettled, spooked.

Worse, she felt as if someone had taken her lifeline away. ‘I’m not going crazy, am I? There is something here? You do want this, right?’ She knew her words were coming out a little slurred, as if her mouth was full of cotton-wool. But she wanted to know...needed to know. He’d said they’d talk, well, now she was going to say a few things... ‘Because I want to kiss you. And maybe more. Some more...yes, more.’ She laid her hand on his chest, felt the reassuring beat of his heart under her fingers. There was something about Jake that was different from any other man she’d ever known. There was a quiet strength to him—one that irritated her slightly as he fought the attraction. There was a calmness there. He was funny and beautiful to look at. He made her feel good about herself. He made her think that anything was possible.

He made her lose track of her thinking—and that wasn’t always such a good thing. Because she had to keep her mind focused on her goals. She didn’t want to fall for him—but maybe it was already too late. Right now she was so laconic she didn’t care.

There was a long pause while he looked at her. Sin flashed across his gaze. ‘Yes. Yes, I do want to kiss you again, Lola, and more. But wanting and doing are different things. You’re hurting now, and pretty much flying high on meds, you don’t know what you’re doing—and, to be brutally honest, neither do I. You need to sleep it all off. Things will look different when you wake up.’

His rejection should have hurt, but it didn’t touch her. Because she knew. Knew he wanted her. Knew this was right. She couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. She wanted to feel his mouth on her skin, on her body. Everywhere. ‘Why do you keep pushing me away?’

‘Because I wouldn’t be good for you.’

Oh, you would. So damned good. But she had to admit that her vision had started to blur at the edges and she was feeling quite strange. ‘I think I can decide what’s good for me. I think sex with you would be amazing—’

His growl was low and almost feral as he edged away from her. ‘So do I, Lola. Which is exactly why we’re not going to do it.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE AIR WAS cooler when she woke, alone on the sofa, her body contorted, her limbs still limp, her head aching just a little. Her mouth was dry. And she was sure she was supposed to be doing something important, but all she could remember was lying in Jake’s heat and how safe she’d felt.

It was going dark too. Almost six o’clock.

She’d been asleep for hours, way too long.

Whoa, shoot. She was supposed to have phoned Evelyn Rice’s office and organised some clothes. And the beauty therapist...damn, damn, damn.

Her head was clearing now, very quickly. Unfortunately. There was no soft-focus buzz to make the neglect of her duties appear in any way warm and fuzzy. She reached for her phone.

But it was gone. As was her script. She jumped to her feet. Wobbled a little on her bad leg. Righted herself. What in hell had she been thinking, sleeping for so long as if she hadn’t a care in the world? What had he given her for the pain that had wiped her brain of any sense? ‘Jake? Jake?’

He wasn’t in the kitchen, bedrooms...the bathrooms were empty. She started to wander outside, but met him and the dogs in the hallway. He’d changed out of beach clothes and wore a navy collared T-shirt that clung interestingly to his biceps, and tan shorts that made a perfect gift of his backside. And he gripped three leads tightly in his fist. ‘Hey, you’re awake. Get down, Butter or Jelly, or whoever you are. Stop fussing. We’ve been for a walk. I think Tina was getting just a little tired of them. Cameron’s still on set.’

Lola was still a little drowsy, but her head was no longer filled with mush. She bent to stroke the dogs, gave them all the kisses they needed, then stood. Wobbled a little. ‘Why did you let me sleep so long?’

Jake held her arms at her sides and looked her up and down, steadied her. ‘You needed it. Your body told you what it needed. You’ve been working hard, you were in shock...’

‘I was drugged.’

He laughed. ‘Lightweight. Seriously, they weren’t even strong. How’re you feeling? You seem to be walking okay.’

She peered down at her leg. It was still red and swollen, but not as raw as it had been. The pain had definitely subsided and whatever cream he’d put on had helped reduce the itch. Reduce, not obliterate. ‘Better. But I haven’t time to think about that. I need to phone Evelyn Rice and arrange some clothes for tomorrow. But, damn, she’s probably left already, and I only have the workshop number.’

‘No need.’ He walked her back through to the kitchen and let the dogs off their leads, and after they’d scoffed some biscuits they scampered through the open-plan space to the lounge area, climbed onto their favourite rattan sofa and began preening. Just like their ‘mother’.

Talking of which... ‘But—I have to—Cameron asked me—’

‘Wait.’ Jake opened the fridge, lifted out a bottle and filled a glass with iced water then handed it to Lola. ‘Drink this. Okay, I’ve already phoned Miss Rice. It’s all sorted.’

‘You called her? Oh, my God, what on earth did you say?’ This was it. She was fired. Gone. Back to London. Regretting everything...except the part where she’d kissed Jake. Twice.

Whatever, she was doomed.

He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. ‘I explained what the issue was, and that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. She took pity on me. She was delighted Cameron wanted to sample her clothes and we guessed her size. She’s sending an assortment of this season’s garments over tonight, different sizes just in case.’

Lola tiptoed to kiss his cheek, but thought better of it. The last time she’d kissed him things had gone downhill pretty quickly. ‘Great, thanks. That’s brilliant. You are brilliant.’

‘I know.’

‘And very modest too. So the only other major thing I need to do today is arrange a beautician for tomorrow evening for before the dinner.’

This time he gave her a very satisfied look. ‘Done.’

‘What?’ He was a revelation.

‘Evelyn recommended someone. I called, she’s fitting Cameron in. In fact, she’s rearranged her whole day for that divine woman. Her words, not mine.’

This time she did give him a quick peck on the cheek and neither of them seemed to mind. ‘Double brilliant. Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.’

‘I know.’

‘But what I don’t understand is why.’ To think that only a few days ago she’d never even met the man, and now he was doing her job for her, tending to her leg. And not trying to sleep with her... Maybe he was just an altogether good guy.

Apart from not trying to sleep with her...

‘To save your ass. The last thing you needed was to make a drug-slurred call to a top designer. Not a great look. Now...’ He took her hand and walked her out to the deck. In the distance someone was playing soca music, light and lyrical. ‘Sit down. Chef is sending dinner over in ten minutes. Watch the sunset...or something. I’ll just check on the dogs.’

‘Oh. Wow. Yes.’ She gazed out and wondered whether the drugs were having an effect on her vision—because the view was breathtaking. It looked like someone had taken a paintbrush and daubed the brightest colours they could find right across the horizon.

The sky met the ocean in a deep molten orange that reflected across the water. A bright yellow globe dipped into the sea and shimmered almost golden. To her left, palm trees swayed in silhouette, black against the ombre haze. And there, just in front of her, were two large torches, flames flickering in the gentle breeze, and a table set for two with candles and white linen.

Her phone was there, too, next to her script. The pages were held down with pebbles at the place where he’d stopped reading. The End.

All this had happened while she’d been asleep?

‘The more time I spend here the more impressed I am.’ He pulled out a chair and indicated for her to sit. ‘The dogs are fine. Asleep. Cameron’s busy. Sit down.’

‘You read my script?’ She sat. Heat burnt her cheeks. She might as well have been naked in front of him. Worse. What could be worse than laying open her naked self to him?

Ah, yes. Laying open her heart. That was something she didn’t want to do. Flirting and fun were one thing, but she didn’t need him to know about the clutch of her heart when she’d kissed him. She didn’t want him to know how much she admired him. Some things she had to keep to herself to protect her heart from the fallout.

He sat opposite her and was about to speak when the chef arrived with a tray of food. Lobster, crab, potatoes, fruit. An amazing array of delicious local delicacies. She turned down wine and stuck to water, not wanting to mix the painkillers with alcohol and befuddle her head even more.

After a couple of mouthfuls and uninhibited groans of delight at the fresh flavours, he put his knife and fork down.

‘So, yes, I did read your script.’ He was unabashed, as if reading her words hadn’t been like peering into her soul.

‘And?’

‘It’s excellent. Really, I think you should do something with it.’ He drank some rosé wine, took up his cutlery again. ‘But what do I know? I’m a doctor. You need an expert opinion, not mine. Show it to Cameron, she’s an expert on tap.’

Lola almost choked on her lobster. ‘I couldn’t do that. I’d rather die than press it on her and beg her to read it. Believe me, she wouldn’t anyway, she has far too much to do. She doesn’t even know I write.’

‘Well, she should. That story deserves a home. You’re right, it is surprisingly funny. Although I shouldn’t be surprised—it’s just an extension of you. With all the things you are—funny, smart, witty, brave.’

‘Wow. Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She felt a surge of confidence. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever believe it’s ready to go out into the big wide world.’

‘Email it to your dad.’

This time she felt the thuds in her heart go on and on at the mention of her dad. But she wasn’t going to have that conversation with Jake. ‘Yeah...maybe.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Pushy.’

His tone got serious. ‘What are you waiting for? You want a career in this? Yes? You’ve given up everything to come out here for this?’ He stabbed his finger at the paper on the table. ‘But you’re still at first base. You won’t get on if you don’t do things. You know the old saying—if you want something to work for you, you have to make it work. Right?’

‘Right.’ She was almost carried along with his enthusiasm. Sure, she was dedicated, ambitious, hard-working...but putting herself out there? There was too much at stake for her right now. He was talking about things he had no knowledge of. ‘Are you this demanding on everyone?’

‘Usually just myself.’

‘Why?’

He looked down at his food. ‘We work hard... Look, my parents didn’t have much, but they taught me that you can achieve anything if you’re prepared to put the hours in. Now, about that script...’

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d changed the subject back to her as soon as he could. Talking about his family clearly wasn’t a favourite thing of his. Well, snap to that. ‘Yes. Okay. I’ll get it out there as soon as I can.’

‘Send a copy to me too so I can take another look at the medical scenes. Soup them up a bit. You’re in a prime position to change your life, Lola.’

‘Yes, yes, I am.’ He was good at this—voicing the feelings she’d arrived with in LA. ‘Have you always been this in control of your own life? Planning world domination?’

He grinned. ‘Like I said, my career’s fine, thanks. Going right according to plan. No need to analyse that any further.’

‘So what do you do when you’re not working?’

‘Like that happens.’

‘You must do something. You can’t work all the time.’ At his shrug she realised he really, truly, probably did. ‘You don’t have hobbies?’

‘I work out. Hike. Surf, if I get a chance. Haven’t done that for a while. I’ve been building my practice—these things don’t just happen. I—well, I work, Lola. Although sometimes to the detriment of other things—I understand that. You have to make sacrifices.’ It was almost as if he’d just realised that he didn’t do anything else—as if the realisation was finally seeping into his brain, and what exactly that meant for his life. Then he smiled. ‘Oh, and I juggle, but that’s more for relaxation. Well, I used to—it’s been a while. Years, actually. Probably a decade, if I’m honest. So, okay, I admit I’m a sad case of a workaholic—I do all the things I tell my juniors not to do. But I have to work, no one’s going to carry me the rest of my life. Where I end up is up to me. No one else.’

And she wondered what he meant by that—but sensed he was reluctant to talk about it, so she tried to keep things light. ‘So you juggle, like with the oranges earlier? That’s a strange thing to do.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Unusual, yes. Strange—not so. It’s very therapeutic, especially if your brain’s stuck in one thing and you want to move on. I was part of a study when I was at med school. We were testing whether learning a new skill could promote white and grey matter growth in the brain. It does, by the way. It also helps you focus and relax, helps posture and co-ordination...and usually makes people smile.’

‘I might have known it would have some connection to work.’

‘Of course. Plus, it’s a great babe magnet.’

She laughed. ‘Why? How?’

‘That’s my secret.’

‘Tell me?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, then, teach me?’

‘Sure. Why not?’ Standing, he took hold of her arm and they went inside to the kitchen. He picked up two oranges from the fruit bowl, one in each hand, and threw them up in the air. She was mesmerised by the fluidity of his movements, the flex of his hands, the primed, yet relaxed stance. His smile. She was mesmerised by him.

He caught the oranges in one hand, held one out to her. ‘Start like this. Just up and down. That’s right. Now, try two. Throw from one hand to the other in an arc shape. Copy me.’

She did as she was told and copied him as he threw first one orange, then added in another so they crossed in mid throw. ‘Easy!’

‘Okay... Now try using your non-dominant hand. That’s the tricky bit.’

‘Oops.’ One orange landed on the floor in a splat.

He laughed. ‘Not quite ready for flames yet...’

‘You juggle with fire?’

‘I have. I can. Try it like this.’ He stood behind her and captured her between his arms, his hands cupping hers as they threw the oranges into the air. She leaned against him and he held her weight, his breath coming easily against her neck. She could feel the hard wall of his chest against her back, could smell his scent, and she suddenly felt more alive and more clear-headed than she had all day.

Arousal snaked up her spine, through her veins. Her heart began to beat faster. She wanted to turn around and press herself against him, to feel him naked against her. Her hands shook as she held the oranges. His words were in her ear, on her neck, in her hair. ‘Lola...your turn now, on your own. I’ll stay here ready to catch them if you drop them.’

‘I think I’m getting the hang...’ She didn’t finish. Couldn’t finish because his hands were in no place to catch any falling citrus fruit. They had circled her waist and he was turning her round.

As she completed the turn she stared straight into those black pupils glittering with need. The air stilled around them, heavy with intent, like his eyes. ‘God, Lola...’

‘Yes?’ But she didn’t hear his answer, if indeed he answered at all, because his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. This wasn’t the kind of kiss they’d shared before. This wasn’t gentle or coaxing; this was pure, raw need. And she kissed him back just as hard, the oranges spinning across the floor as she dropped them to spike her fingers into his hair, to pull him closer, and ever closer.

* * *

There was only so much a guy could resist.

He’d thought earlier he was a damned saint for walking away from her—twice. But now he was going to hell and he outright didn’t care.

Because having Lola Bennett was the only thing he’d had on his mind all damned day. All damned week, if he was honest, and if he didn’t act on this he was going to implode. A mist clouded his brain as he pulled her harder to him. All he could see was Lola, all he could breathe, smell, taste was her. Nothing else mattered. Just this. And her. She mattered.

He felt her curves beneath his hands, spoke against her lips. ‘Forget what I said earlier. I was an idiot. I want you, Lola. I want you, right here.’

‘Finally. You know, I was starting to get a complex. One minute you wanted me, the next...not so much.’

‘I always wanted you. I was trying to protect you.’

He felt her body stiffen. She took a step back. ‘Whoa, mister, I don’t need protecting. I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me today, but I can manage my life just fine on my own.’

‘Hmm—I know, but you can’t kiss on your own.’ He licked behind her ear, felt her soften a little. ‘Can’t do this on your own. Right?’

‘Good point.’ She giggled—a throaty, dirty sound that stoked even more fury through his veins. Her hands were on his T-shirt, dragging it up over his head. ‘Your bedroom? Or mine?’

‘Not sure we’ll make it that far. Next time maybe. Beds are overrated.’ Right now the kitchen table looked enticing. So did the floor. He was tearing at her clothes, nipping along her throat, en route to tasting those exquisite breasts again. Luckily she still had the bikini on underneath her T-shirt and shorts—two quick tugs and she’d be naked.

Her hand stilled on his. ‘Are you sure about this, Jake. I mean, really sure?’

‘Do you have to ask?’

‘Ya think? With your track record? I’m not going to start something if you’re just going to stop and leave me frustrated. I’m over that.’

‘Come with me. Now.’ There weren’t words enough to tell her how sure he was. He slipped his hands under her legs and picked her up, carried her to the closest soft horizontal surface he could find. One of the couches in the lounge. The flickering torchlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating her full beauty. God, she was more beautiful than a hundred Hollywood actresses. More real. Just more. So much more.

Careful of her leg, he straddled her and slammed his mouth over hers, drank her in, fed on her kisses like a starving man. Her skin was soft, her kisses hot, her moans like licks of heat piercing him. There was nothing he could do to stop this. Nothing he wanted to do more.

She raked her hands across his chest, ran her fingers over his belly towards his belt. He grabbed her hand. ‘Not so fast. I want to taste you first...’

She started to undo the buckle. ‘But—’

His grip tightened. ‘Look here, Miss Independent...relax. Let me do something for you.’

‘You’ve done that all day, looked after me. Now it’s your turn. I want to show you my gratitude.’

‘Lola,’ he growled in her ear. ‘I get that you want to be your own woman—but this? This is about the two of us. I want to make you feel so damned good. You first...’

She pouted and pretended to think about that option for all of a nanosecond. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, okay...if you insist.’

‘I do.’ His mouth was on her throat, making a soft trail to her breasts. He flicked off her bikini and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Underneath him she bucked against his hardness, a soft purr coming from her throat. Her hands fisted his hair, yanking with every lick on her nipple. ‘You taste so good.’

Then things got serious as he made a slow trail down her belly, slipped off her shorts and bikini bottom. ‘You have no idea how you make me feel, Lola.’

‘Oh, I can guess. I feel it too.’ Her palm covered him over his pants and he gasped, desperate for her to free him from the restrictive fabric. But he’d have to wait.

She gave him a slow sexy smile that glittered in her eyes, the connection deepening, the connection very real. Tangible. A fist round his heart. Damn, but he’d never felt like this about a woman before—as if there’d been something he hadn’t known he’d been looking for, and now he’d found it. Like finding the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Complete.

And it should have scared him. Hell, it did, more than anything. He’d been fine before he’d met her—he’d already felt complete, goddammit. He didn’t need a woman to make him more whole...but it also spurred him on.

He nudged her thighs apart and dipped his head, tasting the hot slickness of her as she rocked against him, her moan intensifying, urging him on. She was so wet as he stroked his tongue across that tight nub of flesh, as he gripped her backside and trapped her in place. He could sense her orgasm mounting with the tightened grasp, the sob of delight. Each moan of hers elicited a groan from him. God, he needed to be inside her.

When she shuddered he thought he might explode. When she called out his name he thought he’d die.

But she was pulling him up, reaching for his zip, pushing down his shorts, finally freeing him from all constraints. He had to be inside her. To feel her around him, to feel her climax against him. ‘Condom...’

‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’

He reached down to his shorts, pulled out the packet, sheathed in record time. And then she was taking control, wrapping her hand around his thickness, making him gasp.

He looked down the length of her, saw the redness of her leg... ‘Wait...I don’t want to hurt you.’

She gave him a smile that almost broke his heart in two. ‘It’s okay. You won’t hurt me. I promise. Jake...I want you so much. I want you.’

He reached and bent her leg slowly so there’d be no danger of hurting her. Then she was pulling him into her, deep into her core, the silky softness wrapping around him, her muscles gripping him in a sweet tightness. His mouth covered hers in a desperate kiss, his gaze never leaving hers—the truth spinning between them, faster, mesmerising, intoxicating. If there was a heaven, this was it.

She rocked with his rhythm, urging him harder, faster, calling his name until he could take no more. Pleasure, need and hunger slammed into him, and he groaned out her name, caught the first shudders of her release. Felt the thin ethereal threads that connected them tighten. Then and only then did he finally let go.

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