In the Heat of the Spotlight Read Free

goes.’
    ‘I have no doubt you do.’ She’d been ridiculed in the press more times than he cared to count.
    ‘Suck it up, Bossy,’ she jeered softly. ‘You need me.’
    Luke felt his jaw bunch. And ache. He was tempted to stand his ground and tell her to leave, but rationality won out. Too much rode on this event to stand on stupid pride. ‘Fine,’ he said evenly. ‘You can circulate and socialise for an hour, and then leave of your own accord. But if you so much as—’
    ‘What?’ She raised her eyebrows, her mouth curving into another mocking smile. ‘What do you think I’m going to do?’
    ‘That’s the problem. I have absolutely no idea.’
    She’d looked so coy and cat-like standing there, all innuendo and outrageous suggestion, but suddenly it was as if the life had drained out of her and she looked away, her expression veiled, blank. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ll give everyone, even you, what they want. I always do.’ And without looking back at him she walked towards the crowd.
    Watching her, Luke felt a flicker of uneasy surprise. He’d assumed Aurelie was as shallow as a puddle, but in that moment when she’d looked away he’d sensed something dark and deep and even painful in her averted gaze.
    He let out a long, low breath and turned in the opposite direction. He wasn’t going to waste another second of his time thinking about the wretched woman.
    Now that the mini-concert was over, the crowd milled around, examining the glass display cases of jewellery and make-up, the artful window dressings. Luke forced himself to focus on what lay ahead. Yet even as he moved through the crowd, smiling, nodding, talking, it seemed as if he could still feel the heat of her hand on his chest, imagined that its imprint remained in the cloth, or even on his skin.
    * * *
    Aurelie turned around to watch Luke Bryant walk away, wondering just what made Mr Bossy tick. He was wound tight enough to snap, that was for sure. When she’d placed her hand on his chest she’d felt how taut his muscles were, how tense. And she’d also felt the sudden thud of his heart, and knew she affected him. Aroused him.
    The knowledge should have given her the usual sense of grim satisfaction, but it didn’t. All she felt was tired. So very tired, and the thought of performing on a different kind of stage, playing the role of Aurelie the Pop Star for another hour or more, made her feel physically sick.
    What would happen, she wondered, if she dropped the flirty, salacious act for a single afternoon, stopped being Aurelie and tried being herself instead?
    She thought of the PR lady’s look of horror at such a suggestion. No one wanted Aurelie the real person. They wanted the pop princess who tripped through life and made appalling tabloid-worthy mistakes. That was the only person they were interested in.
    And that was the only person she was interested in being. She wasn’t even sure if there was anything left underneath, inside. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and headed into the fray.
    The crowd mingling in the elegant lobby of Bryant’s was a mix of well-heeled and decidedly middle class. Aurelie had known Bryant’s as a top-of-the-line, big-name boutique but, from a glance at the jewellery counter, she could tell the reopening was trying to hit a slightly more affordable note. She supposed in this economy it was a necessary move and, from her quick once-over, it didn’t seem that the store had sacrificed style or elegance in its pursuit of the more price-conscious shopper. Ironic, really, that both she and Bryant’s were trying to reinvent themselves. She wondered if Luke would make a better job of it than she had.
    For three-quarters of an hour she worked the crowd, signing autographs and fluttering her fingers and giggling and squealing as if she was having the time of her life. Which she most certainly was not. Yet even as she played the princess, she found her gaze wandering all too