His L.A. Cinderella. Trish Wylie

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      Oh. Dear. God.

      ‘I think you’ll find we’re eight years too late for a conversation about my underwear.’

      When he looked at her, she summoned a smirk.

      His green gaze travelling over her face, he took in her flushed cheeks and the way she was chewing on her lower lip before he looked back into her eyes. ‘Wearing something so tight that it restricts your breathing is hardly going to help any, is it?’

      ‘It’s not like I planned on falling at your feet.’ Oh, she just didn’t know when to stop, did she?

      Amusement danced across his eyes. Before he could say anything the elevator doors opened, so he turned sideways and guided her inside. ‘Push the button, Cass.’

      She did. Then Will took a step back and lifted his chin to watch the numbers as they lit up above the doors.

      ‘You can put me down now. Seriously.’

      ‘That’s not happening.’

      Cassidy sighed heavily. His stubborn streak, she remembered. When Will had dug his heels in over something he’d been an immovable object. It had led to more than one heated debate when they were writing, but back then they’d had one heck of a good time making up afterwards. Naturally now she’d thought about that her body reacted. So she tried to think of the names of all of the seven dwarfs to distract herself—there was always one she couldn’t remember; now, which one was it? Scrunching her nose up while she concentrated didn’t help. Nope still couldn’t get him. Elusive seventh dwarf! She sighed again.

      ‘Huff all you want, Cass. I’m not putting you down.’

      The elevator pinged and the doors slid open while she informed him, ‘You’ll have to put me down eventually. It’ll make it a tad difficult to do the basics, lugging me around like a sack of spuds all day.’

      When he turned from side to side to search for the plates on the wall that would indicate where her room was, she waved a limp arm. ‘That way.’

      ‘Why didn’t you call and say you weren’t feeling well?’

      Because a part of her had been looking forward to seeing him again, that was why. Her curiosity had been getting the better of her ever since his e-mail had arrived. Only natural considering their history, she’d told herself. What girl wasn’t fascinated by how her first love looked years after the last time she saw him? It was one of those things that never completely went away. Along with the associated paranoia of wondering whether time had built her memories of him into some kind of magical figure he couldn’t possibly live up to, or whether he would have aged much better than she had.

      In the face of further humiliation, she lied, ‘I felt better when I got up.’

      ‘Liar.’

      Cassidy sighed louder than before. ‘I hate that you can still do that. Fine, then—I wanted to know why I was here.’

      ‘Yes, obviously. Because I didn’t explain it in the e-mails I sent you…’

      Was he fishing? She lifted her chin and frowned up at his profile at the exact moment he chose to lower his dense lashes and look down at her. It made her breath catch in her lungs. One man should not look that good! It took every ounce of strength she had not to drop her gaze to his mouth. Then she had to dig deeper to make herself breathe normally again.

      She should never have made the trip over. ‘It wasn’t like you picked up a phone to discuss it.’

      Broad shoulders shrugged before he slotted her key card into the door. ‘Different time zones. And my schedule has been crazy.’

      Cassidy lifted a brow. ‘Liar.’

      ‘Nope.’ He shouldered the door open. ‘You’re seven hours behind over there. I’ve been dealing with a movie that’s running over budget every second. Any time I had to call you would have been during school hours your end. Plus, if you were worried about making the trip and wanted me to call you, you’d have said so in your e-mails—wouldn’t you?’

      She hated it when he used reasoning on her. And when she couldn’t read him the way he did her. Back in the good old days the former had been useful mid-debate, and the latter had been endearing as heck—especially when he’d told her what she was thinking in a husky voice, with his mouth hovering above hers. But now? Now it just kept on making her feel like even more of an idiot than she already did for not realising the physical attraction she’d had for him would be as uncontrollable as it had been before. There was no fighting chemistry. When the pheromones said it worked, it worked. It was up to the brain to list the reasons why it couldn’t.

      Setting her gently on her feet by the giant bed, he leaned over to drag the covers back before standing tall and letting a small smile loose. ‘Take it off.’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      He jerked his chin. ‘That industrial-strength whatever-it-is you’re wearing. What is it with women and those boned things, anyway?’

      A squeak of outrage sounded in the base of her sore throat. ‘You’re unbelievable. Go away.’

      ‘I’ll go when you’re all tucked up in bed. Anything happens to you within twenty-four hours of hitting L.A. I might feel guilty for bringing you here…’

      Somewhere in the growing red mist of her anger came a question that temporarily made her gape at him. ‘You brought me here? I thought the studio brought me here? Are you telling me you paid for all of this—the flights and the limo pick-up and the fancy room and everything?’

      Say no!

      ‘Yes.’

      Uh-oh. Room swaying again. But when his hands grasped her elbows she tugged them away and managed to turn round before she flumped down onto the mattress. Automatically toeing her shoes off her feet, she shook her head and blinked into the middle distance. ‘I thought the studio paid for it.’

      ‘They paid for a script. We took the money. Now we have to deliver.’

      What had she got herself into? She couldn’t be beholden to him. It wasn’t as if she had the money to pay him back—not until they were paid the balance of their advance for the last script. Even then. Every cent was precious. There was no guarantee she could start writing again without Will and make money at it. Not that she’d tried the last time…

      A crooked forefinger arrived under her chin and lifted it to force her gaze upwards. Then he examined her eyes for the most maddening amount of time while she held her breath. ‘You need to sleep. I’ll come back later and check up on how you’re feeling.’

      ‘You don’t have to.’

      ‘Go take that ridiculous thing off while I’m here—in case you pass out again.’

      ‘I won’t pass—’

      ‘Humour me.’

      Pursing her lips, she reached for her pyjamas from under the soft pillows, pushed to her feet and scowled at him on her way to the bathroom, ‘I don’t know that I can work with this new bossy СКАЧАТЬ