The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOU LOOK LIKE you need a drink.’ In Noah’s experience, that was a good line with stressed out women. But in this case it wasn’t a line—well, it wasn’t just a line. Eloise looked as if she might keel over at any moment. Her already pale skin had faded to the same white as the expensive sheets on his four-poster bed and her bright eyes were huge in her face. Most women he knew would have loved to have been tagged to play maid of honour for Melissa Sommers, and few of them would have objected to spending more time with him as best man either.

But Eloise, he was learning quickly, wasn’t quite like all the other women he knew.

Maybe he couldn’t indulge in the sort of fun he’d planned with her—not if he wanted that part, and he did. But they were going to be spending a lot of time together, it seemed. The least he could do was help her out, and get to know her a bit.

If not in quite the way he’d like...

‘I’m fine.’ Eloise’s voice was faint and not at all believable.

‘Sure you are.’ Noah didn’t bother hiding his sarcasm as he took her elbow. ‘Look, at least come and sit down for a few minutes.’

‘With you?’ Eloise’s gaze shot to his face, then she shook her head and looked away again. ‘I’m working. I can’t sit down and I definitely can’t drink.’

‘Yeah, well, you look like death—no offence. So you kind of need to do something if you don’t want to scare the guests.’

Eloise scowled at him, a little colour finally coming back into her cheeks. ‘If I’m so terrifying, why aren’t I scaring you away?’

‘I don’t scare easily,’ Noah said. ‘Haven’t you seen all my horror movies?’

‘No,’ Eloise said, but he was pretty sure she was lying. Maybe she was a closet star-struck fan. Except in that case he’d kind of expect her to be nicer to him. ‘Look, I’m fine. I just need a moment alone.’ She stepped away, towards the other side of the lobby. Noah followed, pausing at her side as she fiddled with the latch on the glass doors that led out to some sort of terrace. ‘You don’t need to watch me, you know.’

‘You’re nice to watch,’ Noah said with a shrug. Looking was still okay, right? Looking was discreet. He hoped. ‘It’s not exactly a hardship.’

‘I meant...I just need to get some air.’

‘Fine by me,’ Noah agreed. Then he followed her out onto the terrace, ignoring her heavy sigh.

‘What is it with you?’ Eloise snapped as he shut the door behind them.

‘Me? Nothing at all. You, on the other hand, looked like you were about to pass out, all because some blonde asked you to wear a pretty dress. I mean, I know it’s probably stupidly expensive, but still. Formalwear doesn’t usually cause fainting fits, in my experience.’

‘Yeah, well, clearly you’ve never experienced formalwear around Melissa Sommers before.’ She stalked to the edge of the terrace, leaning on the stone wall as she stared out over the river beyond. Noah gave her a moment then rested his arms beside hers, enjoying the view.

Despite the bitter cold, the air felt fresh on his face, waking him up after a long night of travelling. He felt...alive, somehow, in this place. More alert, more open to the world around him.

Or maybe that was the anticipation of his video call with Stefan, the director of Eight Days After. It was strange, but it felt as if that script and this place had become intertwined in his mind, as if being at Morwen Hall would help him become the actor he needed to be to do the part justice.

‘Why are you following me around?’ Eloise asked eventually, after long moments.

‘Honestly? I’m not sure.’ Noah shook his head, trying to make sense of it himself. ‘There’s something about you. The moment I saw you this morning, I wanted...’ He broke off.

‘I’ve seen the photos and read the reports,’ Eloise said drily. ‘I know what your sort wants when it comes to women.’ Of course she did. Because, apparently, he wasn’t at all discreet about that. He wondered what people would make of the truth—that most of those women on his arm were there to be seen, the same way he was. Often, that was as far as things went.

Noah gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Reports of my promiscuity may be greatly exaggerated. Besides...that wasn’t what I was thinking.’

Colour flooded Eloise’s cheeks, the pink clashing with the vibrant flame red of her hair. ‘Of course not. I didn’t mean...I wasn’t assuming that you wanted to...’

Time to put her out of her misery. ‘Not because you’re not attractive. You’re gorgeous.’ Her cheeks turned a deeper pink at the compliment. ‘And don’t get me wrong. I’m totally planning on flirting with you some more later.’ If he didn’t at least flirt, the world’s media would think he was sick or something, and that publicity could be even worse. Maybe.

‘You mean you’re not now?’ If she thought this was flirting, he could have totally snowed her if he had the chance. He sighed at the idea of the lost opportunity.

‘Right now, I’m just making sure you’re okay. And wondering what the deal is with you and Melissa.’

‘That’s why you’re following me around? Because you’re nosy?’

‘Not nosy exactly.’ Men weren’t nosy, were they? Curious, perhaps. Nosy was for old ladies and people on the neighbourhood watch. ‘I just...you intrigue me. And I can’t explain why. Except that maybe it has to do with this movie I might be making... Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I’m interested. I find myself wanting to know more about you, which is unusual for me, I assure you. But, since I do... I’m a good listener, really. If you wanted to talk about why the idea of being Melissa’s maid of honour makes you want to throw up or pass out, I’ll listen.’

‘You mean you’ll stand there until I tell you, whether I want to share or not.’

‘Basically, yes.’

‘Great.’ Eloise sighed, then turned to rest her back against the stone wall of the terrace, staring back at him with those big blue-green eyes. ‘Fine. You want the whole sob story? I don’t know what Melissa Sommers is like on set but when she was a teenager she was a bully, a cheat and she made my life a misery. In fact, part of me wonders if the only reason she’s holding her wedding at Morwen Hall—and the only reason she asked her half-sister to be her wedding planner, come to that—is so that she can lord her success over all the little people she left behind. And I know I sound bitter and jealous, but I’m not—really, I’m not. I wouldn’t be Melissa for all the tea in China. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to hate her a little bit.’

‘I never said it did,’ Noah replied, bemused. Where had Eloise been hiding all that anger and all that rage all morning? Ever since he’d arrived, she’d been professional, courteous, distant, and never even the slightest bit inappropriate. He’d been starting to think he might never get under that pale skin. But now it seemed that Eloise had limits—just like everyone else—and Melissa had just passed them.

What had she called Melissa? A bully and a cheat. ‘Well, I guess I can see why you don’t want to be her maid of honour.’

Eloise gave a watery chuckle and hid her face with her hands. ‘It’s going to be horrendous.’

‘Oh, it won’t be that bad.’ Noah slung an arm around her slim shoulders for moral support and she stiffened instantly. If she’d felt anything like the tingles that ran up his arm at the contact, he didn’t blame her.

That wasn’t like it was with all the other women he’d dated either. It seemed nothing about Eloise was usual.

‘You’ll wear the dress, pose for some photos, give a couple of short interviews, dance with me...’

Eloise groaned. If he didn’t have such a healthy ego, Noah might be starting to take some offence around now.

‘You don’t like dancing?’ he asked.

‘I don’t like any of it.’ Eloise lifted her face and he could see the edge of fear in her eyes. She wasn’t exaggerating. Something about the maid of honour job really had her off-balance. ‘I hate being the centre of attention.’

‘I’m pretty sure that’s going to be Melissa, however expensive your frock.’

Eloise shook her head. ‘You don’t get it. I hate people looking at me. I hate anyone noticing me, noticing what I do.’ Which explained her prickly reaction to his attentions, at least. ‘You can’t understand—your entire life is basically about shouting, “Hey, look at me!” and seeing how many people you can get to turn around.’

‘My whole career, a decade of work, reduced to a schoolyard attention grab.’ Noah gave an overly dramatic sigh, hoping it might lighten the mood. ‘The saddest part is, you’re right. But now I’ve seen the error of my ways, I’ll go and become a hotel manager instead.’

‘I didn’t use to be a hotel manager,’ Eloise said, ignoring his attempt at humour. ‘I was a chambermaid for years, then worked my way up. My whole career at this hotel has been about fading into the background, not being noticed by the rich and famous who come to stay here. Putting on a show, a spectacle, but not drawing attention to myself. The whole point is that every stay is supposed to go so seamlessly that no one ever notices I’m here, working away in the background.’

Noah couldn’t help it; he let out a bark of a laugh. ‘The background? Honey, you couldn’t fade into the background if you tried.’

Eloise pulled a face. ‘I know, I know, the hair stands out.’

‘It’s not the hair,’ Noah said, although that was part of it. ‘It’s you. Your beauty. That would stand out anywhere.’ At least, it did to him. Although, maybe that was just because he knew now that he couldn’t have her.

He pulled back, away from Eloise, and strode over towards the doors to the hotel again. It unnerved him, just a little, how easy it was to listen to Eloise talk. How natural his replies felt. How, without even thinking about it, he let in some real feeling between the jokes.

She was looking at him curiously now and he knew he needed to end this moment. People always wanted a secret in return for their own. And he had no intention of giving up any of his.

‘You think I’m beautiful?’ she asked, her eyes wide and vulnerable, and Noah swore silently in his head.

Because she meant it. He could tell that much straight away. This wasn’t the usual coyness of a Hollywood actress, or the ‘I’m a model but still don’t believe I’m pretty’ type of false insecurity. She was honestly surprised.

‘I can’t be the only person to tell you that,’ he said, searching for a way out. Because that lack of self-awareness, that would be his undoing. He’d only known one other person so artlessly unaware of her own beauty.

Sally.

And he really wasn’t thinking about her any more this weekend. It had been seven years, for goodness’ sake.

‘No, but you’re the first movie star to say it,’ Eloise said, and the moment was broken. Because he’d never been a movie star to Sally. He’d just been her best friend.

But to Eloise he was Noah Cross, the brand—and that was all he needed to be. She didn’t need to see any deeper, and he didn’t need to worry about having to let her in too far. He just had to keep his eye on the prize—his name in that little golden envelope when they announced the coveted award for Best Actor, once Eight Days After came out.

And all he had to do to achieve that was not sleep with Eloise, and knock his audition out of the park.

At least one of those should be no trouble at all. He just wished he could be entirely sure which one.

* * *

Eloise let herself back into the hotel, her dizziness faded but replaced by a strange confusion after the unexpected interlude with Noah on the terrace. At least he’d retreated up to his room to let her recover her wits in peace. She couldn’t cope with any more of that intense conversation and gaze right now.

What had all that been about? She’d expected to get hit on by sex-crazed or drunk actors looking for a fling at the wedding—it happened often enough while working at the hotel, however much she tried to fade into the background. The rich and famous, in her experience, seemed to expect to be able to seduce anyone they wanted. And actors were the worst—they were all about the quick, meaningless fling. Which was still better than the times they pretended it was something more, that they’d fallen for her charms at first sight and couldn’t live without her in their beds.

She knew better than to believe them. Her mother had been the queen of that game, and look how that had ended up.

No, she knew actors, knew the entitled clientele of Morwen Hall, and she knew how they behaved.

Noah Cross was not living up to the stereotype and it bothered her.

Of course there were probably some actors and actresses who managed to stay happily married and faithful, or who were looking for long-term love. She’d just never met any of them. Or seen them in the celebrity magazines in the staffroom. And she’d never expect Noah Cross, famed ladies’ man, to be one of them.

In fairness, she had no evidence that he was. He’d admitted he was flirting with her—even if he didn’t seem inclined to take it any further.

Either way, he hadn’t gone about it the way she’d expected. She’d expected the flattery, the lusty looks, the charm. She hadn’t expected him to ask questions about her history with Melissa, or to show such concern for her well-being.

Actually, he’d seemed pretty surprised by that too, so maybe this was a new thing for him.

The main doors opened again and Laurel burst through, followed closely by a guy who looked a lot like Riley.

Very closely.

Eloise narrowed her eyes as the man rested a hand on Laurel’s waist, and Laurel jumped with surprise. There was definitely something weird going on here.

Pushing thoughts of Noah’s weirdness out of her head, Eloise covered the lobby in long strides, ready to decipher Laurel’s weirdness instead.

‘Hey. You’re back!’

Laurel’s smile seemed a little forced. ‘I am.’

‘And you brought company.’ Eloise’s gaze flicked up to the man with his hand on Laurel. He really did look an awful lot like Riley. Which probably meant...

‘Eloise, this is Dan. Riley’s brother.’ Of course. But that didn’t explain his and Laurel’s closeness. ‘Dan, this is Eloise. She’s the manager of Morwen Hall.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Dan said, placing the shopping bag he was carrying on the ground and holding out his hand.

‘Acting Manager,’ Eloise corrected automatically, as she took it and shook. The title wasn’t hers yet—and wouldn’t be unless this wedding went off without a hitch.

‘Not for long,’ Laurel said, and this time her smile seemed real. ‘So, what’s been happening here?’

‘Cassidy, the maid of honour, has taken a fall while skiing and broken her leg, so her husband is bringing his mistress to the wedding instead.’

Also, I seem to have an odd connection with the best man that makes me want to tear his clothes off, even though he’s the sort of man I despise, and he seems more interested in getting to know me.

Maybe she’d save that information for later, when she and Laurel were able to grab a moment alone. She needed to talk to someone about it.

Laurel’s mouth fell into an open O shape, her eyes almost as wide. ‘So Melissa doesn’t have a maid of honour?’

Eloise winced. ‘Not exactly. She’s making me do it.’

She hadn’t thought Laurel’s eyes could get any wider but her response to this information proved her wrong. ‘You poor, poor thing.’

At least she didn’t have to worry about Melissa’s half-sister being offended she hadn’t been chosen. That was something, Eloise supposed. ‘Yeah. I’m thrilled, as you can imagine. And it means I’ll have to call in my deputy to cover for me at the hotel this week. He will not be thrilled. I can probably keep on top of the wedding events at least, so he only has to deal with the guests.’ She sighed. ‘What about you? How did the favours go?’

And what’s the deal with you and your future half-brother-in-law?

‘Fine, they’re all sorted.’ Laurel waved her hand towards the large glossy shopping bag that Dan had picked up again. ‘Then I got Dan’s car to pick me up on the way back.’

‘That was...convenient.’ Eloise stared rather pointedly at where Dan’s hand was still resting on Laurel’s waist, and the petite wedding planner blushed.

‘Um, yes. Actually, I meant to tell you... Dan and I...’

‘So I see,’ Eloise said when Laurel appeared at a loss for how to finish that statement.

‘We had sort of been keeping it under wraps,’ Dan said, pulling Laurel closer to his side. Laurel stiffened for a moment then relaxed against him, her cheeks a little pink. ‘What with the wedding and everything. Didn’t want to steal Melissa’s thunder, you know? But now the secret’s out anyway...’

‘This is brilliant!’ Eloise burst out, the answer to at least one of her problems coming to her in a flash. Laurel looked a little startled at Eloise’s sudden enthusiasm, at least until she explained. ‘Melissa has insisted on Riley staying in a separate room until the wedding night, so I had to give him Dan’s—sorry, Dan.’ She gave Riley’s brother a quick smile. ‘But if you two are together, then that’s fine because you’ll be sharing anyway!’

‘Sharing...right.’ Laurel’s smile had frozen into that sort of rictus again.

Eloise frowned. ‘As long as that’s okay...?’

‘Of course!’ Laurel said, too brightly. ‘I mean, why wouldn’t we?’

‘Exactly,’ Dan said, not looking quite as certain as Eloise might have expected either. ‘Why wouldn’t we?’

They were looking at each other now, not Eloise, staring into each other’s eyes. Eloise definitely got the feeling she was intruding on a moment.

Quizzing Laurel on exactly when she’d found the time to go falling for Riley’s brother would have to wait until she could get her alone. For now, she’d just chalk it up to fate and cross one more thing off her epic to-do list. At least now she could get on with the next thing on that list—the welcome drinks.

‘Well, I’m glad that’s all sorted,’ she said, clapping her hands together in the hope it might bring Laurel and Dan back to the present.

It didn’t. Eloise gave up.

‘See you both later, then,’ she said, and headed upstairs to her room to change into something more suitable for a maid of honour to wear while resisting flirting with the best man.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘THAT IS A very boring dress,’ Noah said as he handed Eloise a flute of champagne. He’d been watching her since he’d arrived at the bar for the welcome drinks, and she hadn’t welcomed a single drink yet. She had to be desperate for one. He knew he was.

He’d intended to stay away from Eloise this evening, despite his promise of a flirtation earlier. Tessa had sent him a pointed text message saying she hoped he was behaving himself, as she had a call booked in with Stefan about the audition. Clearly she was serious about this, and so he would be too.

But then he’d spent an hour making small talk with the other wedding guests and, by the end of it, he was desperate for a conversation with somebody who had never even wanted to be in a film. Which, at Melissa’s wedding, basically left Eloise.

When had this sort of event grown so meaningless? All industry chatter and gossip, and nothing of any substance. Unlike Eloise’s boring black shift dress which, in his opinion, had far too much substance. It could have done with a little bit of sheer fabric somewhere, or even just a little less weight. It hung over her body like a sack. Eloise’s body, Noah had decided from watching her move around the room, needed the sort of fabric that flowed, that moved with her, showing off her long, lean lines and gentle curves.

From the way Eloise was scowling at him, he guessed she disagreed. Oh, well. He was getting used to it.

‘I didn’t realise we’d reached the stage in our acquaintance where you felt comfortable insulting my fashion sense.’

‘I like to skip ahead to the good parts. Why waste time on the small talk?’ He flashed her his most charming smile and she just rolled her eyes.

Eloise Miller was going to be a challenge to win over—especially if he wasn’t allowed to seduce her. Fortunately, Noah loved challenges.

‘Well, you’ll get to see me in the hideous concoction Melissa has chosen for the bridesmaids soon enough,’ she assured him, then raised the champagne flute to her lips to take a sip. ‘Hopefully, that will be an interesting enough dress to keep you satisfied.’

Noah had a feeling that whatever dress Melissa had picked, it wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to satisfy him. Even standing beside Eloise, just watching her cool, pale skin and her blazing hair, he felt too warm, as if he might get burnt if he touched her. But that didn’t stop his whole body aching to reach out anyway. What was it about this woman? She wasn’t even trying—and he’d had enough women try with him to know—and yet she kept pulling him into her orbit, keeping him tethered there until it was physically hard to pull away.

The room was filled with beautiful women, yet the only one he could see was Eloise.

And that was going to be a problem. Because he really couldn’t sleep with her. He was being discreet—and that definitely meant no public fling with the maid of honour.

‘I’m sure the bridesmaids’ dresses will be lovely,’ he lied, trying not to imagine Eloise in something slippery, something low-cut, something that just fell off her skin as he pushed it aside...

‘No, you’re not,’ Eloise cut into his thoughts. ‘You know as well as I do that Melissa will have chosen something designed to make her look even more beautiful. Which, given the A-list beauty status of the rest of her bridesmaids, means that we’ll all be wearing sackcloth and ashes, or whatever the modern wedding equivalent is. In this case, something in blue-green satin and chiffon, I believe.’

‘You’d look good in anything,’ Noah replied without thinking, and she looked at him with wide eyes.

‘Thank you,’ she said, sounding surprised. ‘But I’d reserve judgement until you’ve seen the dress, if I were you. Melissa is not above using her powers of fashion for evil.’

They stood side by side, observing the room, and Noah wondered if she was supposed to be working, doing something, instead of standing here with him. Then he wondered if, actually, he was meant to be doing something, in his capacity as best man. Then he decided he didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

‘Did you know about those two?’ Eloise nodded across the room to where the little wedding planner and Riley’s brother were talking with the parents of the groom. As they chatted, Dan reached out and rested his hand at the small of Laurel’s back and she leant against him, apparently finding strength and support in his nearness.

For a moment Noah couldn’t help but think that looked nice, having that sort of connection. And then he remembered the price and shook the thought away.

‘No. They’re together?’ That hadn’t come up in any of the emails and schedules Laurel had been sending over for months.

‘Apparently.’ Eloise’s gaze didn’t move from the group across the room, but Noah couldn’t be sure if she was watching Laurel and Dan or taking in Melissa’s mother’s thunderous face. It looked as if someone else hadn’t known about the relationship either. He wondered if the bride knew yet... That could be interesting, when she arrived. Melissa believed in making an entrance, and that required being fashionably late. ‘I don’t know if it’s serious. I mean...it’s not like Melissa and Riley, is it? Another showbiz marriage destined to fail.’

‘Not all marriages end in divorce,’ Noah said mildly. ‘Only, like, half. Maybe three-quarters, in Hollywood.’

The look Eloise gave him was scathing. ‘That’s a rousing argument for the institution of marriage.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not really my thing.’

‘Yeah, I get that.’ She tilted her head a little to the side as she considered him. Noah tried not to shift from one foot to the other, giving away his discomfort. Usually, he was used to being scrutinised from the other side of a camera or a screen. Up close and personal, it felt a little invasive. As if Eloise was looking deeper than he wanted her to know existed. ‘So, how did Riley rope you into being best man, then? You guys must be pretty close, I guess.’

‘Not really,’ Noah admitted, glad the focus had shifted away from him and onto Melissa and Riley for a while. Their wedding was a much safer topic. ‘I mean, we’ve made a few movies together, done the press junkets. But that’s about it.’

‘Huh.’ She was looking again. Studying him.

‘What?’ Noah shifted his weight from one foot to the other and swapped his empty champagne flute for a full one as a waiter passed.

‘I just figured...the way they both talked about you when we were doing the planning—especially Riley—I figured you were a bigger part of their lives.’

‘Riley said that? I mean, he made it sound that way?’ He’d always assumed that Melissa had insisted on Riley asking him, purely for the celebrity cachet that came with having Noah Cross as best man. But maybe he’d been wrong. After all, as his agent had pointed out, he wasn’t always the best at connecting with people on a deeper level. Even his friends.

‘Yeah. He did.’

‘I...I don’t usually like to get too close to people I work with,’ Noah said, wondering why he felt as if he needed to make excuses to this woman. It was her eyes, he decided. The way they seemed to look right into his soul—assuming he still had one after a decade in Hollywood. He was pretty sure some of the women he’d dated would claim otherwise.

‘Or anyone else,’ Eloise suggested.

Noah tried to ignore her remark but, seeing as it came so soon after Tessa’s comments on the phone, he couldn’t help himself from asking, ‘What makes you say that?’

‘I’ve seen the photos,’ Eloise said with a shrug. ‘All those pictures of you with a different woman every week. Not exactly the hallmark of a guy who gets up close and personal. At least, not in the non-physical sense.’

She sounded too casual as she said it, too desperate for him to believe she didn’t care what he did with women. And, on less than twelve hours’ acquaintance, why would she?

But she did. Noah was almost certain of it.

And he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

‘There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun,’ he said lightly, watching her face carefully to read her response. ‘As long as everyone involved knows that’s exactly what it is.’

‘Just fun. Casual. Meaningless. Shallow.’ She met his gaze with her own fierce blue-green eyes. How was it she seemed to see right inside him, yet he couldn’t read her at all? He prided himself on his ability to decipher people—to read enough to understand them without ever needing to get too close. But Eloise was a mystery.

Noah hated mysteries.

‘That’s right.’ He moved a little closer, slowly, so as not to spook her. Just enough that the sleeve of his jacket brushed against her bare arm.

She flinched.

He was right. She cared, for some reason. His inability to even contemplate monogamy bothered her, and he could not begin to understand why.

But he intended to find out. If he understood her, maybe he’d stop being so obsessed with her—stop feeling the need to be near her, to question her, to deepen their acquaintance. Because deep and meaningful was the last thing he wanted, with any woman. Whatever Tessa said.

Eloise’s tongue flicked over her lips as she raised her eyes to his then looked away again.

Perhaps he was making this too complicated. Maybe Eloise’s problem had nothing to do with deeper motivations at all.

Perhaps she just wanted him the same way he wanted her.

And if that was the case he had an even bigger problem.

He had to be sure.

‘A fling is always good for making a wedding a little more entertaining, don’t you find?’ he asked, and watched her cheeks turn pink.

Gotcha.

She wanted him. And he really wanted her.

Okay, so he couldn’t have her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play a little. Just to keep in practice.

He could find out exactly what issues she had that stopped her from even contemplating a bit of fun. He might even get her to lighten up a bit.

It would be his good deed for the day or something.

Even Tessa would have to approve of that. Right?

* * *

He was flirting with her.

Noah Cross, Hollywood heart-throb and womaniser extraordinaire, was flirting with her.

She hadn’t been sure earlier, couldn’t quite tell if his easy charm was just something he pulled out for all the ladies. Sure, it felt personal and attentive and tingly—no, not tingly. She didn’t do tingly. Anyway. She hadn’t been one hundred per cent certain that his flirtatiousness had anything to do with her exactly. He could have been like that with every woman he met for all she knew. In fact, he probably was.

But this, now; this was personal. Focused. He was staring deep into her eyes, as if he hoped to find the meaning of life there—or at least a way into her underwear.

Well. Noah Cross was going to be sorely disappointed.

‘I’ve never had a fling at a wedding,’ she said, purposefully omitting the ‘before’ from the end of the sentence. ‘Before’ implied she was thinking about doing it this time, and she wasn’t.

Oh, all right, she was. Any straight woman with a pulse would at least think about it if Noah Cross propositioned her, she was sure. But thinking was as far as Eloise was willing to go.

‘Don’t you think you should give it a try? Just once?’ Noah leaned in a little closer. ‘How else will you know if you like it or not?’

Eloise pulled back, fixing him with her sternest manager stare. This would all be so much easier if her whole body didn’t hum at the very sight of him. ‘And who, exactly, are you suggesting I have this fling with?’