He reached up and loosened her grip, pulling her hand around his torso so she could grip his back. Taut muscles moved under the smooth, warm skin there.
“Although, you know, regular rehearsals. Important for any performance.”
The tip of his tongue teased hers. “You’re adorable,” he said. “Stop talking.”
She let the man hone his craft.
Chapter Nine
London Celebrity @LondonCelebrity. 35m
Richard Troy’s tragic past revealed! The truth behind his father’s death and how it’s impacted his life today...goo.gl/NK5ivF
There were a number of things that Lainie liked to do on Sunday afternoons, and they all involved pyjamas. They did not include choosing a suitable outfit to wear to dinner with a man who licked the hands of brand-new acquaintances, but needs must. With a cup of tea in one hand, held at a safe distance from her outfit, she examined her reflection in the mirror. Midi-length pencil skirt and knockoff Chanel jacket from Topshop. Decorous heels. Sleek waves of hair.
She looked like a bustier, ginger Jackie O. Pity she didn’t have a pillbox hat. When dressing for a part—today’s role being a sort of political consort, which seemed more hilarious every time she thought about it—might as well go all out.
The front door buzzed, and she checked her watch in surprise. Richard wasn’t supposed to be picking her up for an hour. They had been so busy with performances and appearances that she’d barely spoken to him the past couple of days, except for brief stolen moments alone in their dressing rooms. She would have liked time to eat her chocolate biscuit and put on her lipstick before he arrived, but she was looking forward to seeing him properly, in private.
She was smiling when she pulled the door open, but her expression quickly sobered. “Will.”
He lowered the hand that was raised to buzz again—always impatient—and shoved it into the pocket of his crisp trousers. His black hair was combed in a smooth wave above his ear, and he was freshly shaved. The GQ effect was not as appealing as lazy stubble and tangled curls.
“I want to talk to you,” he said with no preliminaries, already pushing his way past her into the lounge. “I’ve been trying to get you alone all week, but you’re either dashing off to interviews or slobbering over Troy in the wings.”
Untrue. She had decided opinions about public displays of affection in the workplace, and Will knew it.
Closing the front door, she hoped that Richard didn’t break the habit of a lifetime and turn up early after all. She strongly suspected that these confrontations between former and current lovers were less titillating than they were presented in fiction. In fact, she would put her money on them being a bloody nightmare.
Will stood by her coffee table, watching her through narrowed eyes. His arms were folded. Chin up, pecs out, lips set. Great. She had the haughty Jacobite Geoffrey in her flat.
“You didn’t congratulate me at the Awards last week.”
“Congratulations.”
“I expect you were devoting your considerable talents to consoling the loser,” he said nastily, and she clenched her hands.
“Mind your own business,” was all she said, but it was a struggle to keep her reply mild.
“I looked for you later, but Jack Trenton said he saw you leaving early with Troy.”
From what she recalled, it hadn’t been that early. The public part of the night had seemed interminably long. The private part, she wouldn’t have minded extending. And repeating more times than they’d managed in the days since.
She shrugged, and Will looked at her intently. “Trenton and Sadie Foster have called it quits.”
Unsurprising, if Jack was shagging his director and didn’t fancy the idea of castration.
“He had a few too many after the ceremony. You know the way his mouth runs off. Admitted they were only in it for the publicity. He can’t stand her.”
A warning bell sounded in the recesses of Lainie’s mind. She continued to say nothing.
“Which got me thinking,” Will went on, still watching her fixedly, waiting for any change of expression. “Bob Carson and Pat Bligh seem very interested in your private life at the moment. And you took up with Troy pretty fucking quickly. One day you’re not even on his radar—” Lainie couldn’t help wincing at that “—and the next you’re in his bed. I reckoned it was a rebound fling,” he said with odious complacency, “but is it even that much?”