His mouth returned to hers, and she made a slight sound that might have meant anything. Protest. Need. Gratification. Doubt.
With her forehead leaning against his, she drew in a shaky breath. “Still just...rehearsal, yes?”
“Mmm.” He nipped at the bow of her upper lip. His eyes were at lazy half-mast, a glittering glimpse of blue. “‘Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative,’” he murmured in agreement, à la The Mikado.
“I love it when you talk musical theatre to me.”
Chapter Seven
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We’re live-Tweeting tonight from the red carpet of the National Theatre Awards. Follow along for the best—and worst—dressed!
“Smile,” Will said warningly in her ear, as he followed his own advice. A trio of camera flashes went off, and a misguided young woman behind the crowd barrier proclaimed her love for him. He raised a lazy hand and waved to the cluster of predominantly female spectators. Silly screaming ensued. Will’s star had risen recently after a series of guest appearances in a popular American drama. His hand tightened on Lainie’s waist when she tried to step away. “People will think we aren’t such good friends after all.”
Lainie’s fingers tightened around his, but her discreet tug didn’t break his hold. There was only so much she could do in the full glare of the theatrical world, with a feverish tapping of thumbs feeding the intel straight into social media. She had too much dignity to get into a public scuffle with her ex-boyfriend.
But nor did she want to be photographed with his nose nestled in her hair. “The tragic news of your latest breakup was reported less than six hours ago,” she hissed. He turned his head, and his lips ventured way too close to her face. She leaned sharply away. “What I don’t want is for people to think I had anything to do with Crystalle’s Shock Heartbreak! I have no desire to ignite rumours about you and me again. Just stand for the bloody photo and then go elsewhere, please.”
Will made a low sound of disgust. “Heartbreak. I’m sure she’s sobbing her eyes out as we speak, curled up cosily back in her marital bed.”
“Tell me you aren’t expecting sympathy.” Lainie saw Alexander Bennett getting out of a limo. “Bennett’s here.”
They amped up their smiles. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt. She still felt tired from the remnants of her flu bug. She’d only been back at work for one day, and everything still had a slight sheen of unreality outside the bubble of her bedroom. Another flash went off, and she resisted the urge to look down at her gown. Sarah and Meghan had joined forces to help her get ready, and they had taken numerous shots with a camera flash on, in both natural and artificial light. They had all been confident that her shimmery dress would not turn sheer in photographs, but a hint of paranoia lingered. She had worn her sexiest knickers as a morale boost, but she’d prefer that fact not to be made public.
At least not to multiple people. One person, maybe...
Don’t go there.
The cameramen at last turned their attention to the next newcomers, and Lainie hastened forward at some speed. She swore under her breath. It had been epically bad timing arriving at the same moment as Will. She had been unable to turn tail and run without creating an even bigger story, but appearing in the same photograph would be enough to have their relationship rekindled on gossip blogs. Add in Richard’s conspicuous absence from the red carpet, thanks to a speaking engagement that had run late, and her sex life would end up resembling a Ping-Pong tournament. Bounced back and forth between the same two players.
Will seemed torn between tailing her and remaining behind to soak up his newfound sex symbol status. Unfortunately, persistence won out over vanity.
“No,” he said from above her shoulder. Someone shoved against them, and he took the opportunity to put a gentlemanly arm around her. The subtle hip-squeeze was less chivalrous. “I’m not asking for sympathy.”