Star Struck Read Free

was playing with her. No one ever played with her. They kowtowed and charmed and kissed her ass. His obvious indifference to the Hollywood rules made her tummy flutter. Were those butterflies in her stomach? How long had it been since she’d had butterflies for a guy?
    Trying to ignore her squirmy insides, she played back. “And you ooze…” She scanned him again. What he oozed was sex. Pure, hard, all-male sex. But she was trying to guess his role in the 24-Hour Plays, not define what he did to her physically. Besides, she was sure he already knew.
    “I ooze….what?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Nothing bad, I hope.”
    “No. Good things.” Definitely good things. And she’d just said that out loud.
    Though they’d maintained eye contact for most of the conversation, he caught her eye now with such intensity she had to look down, her face warm. “Let’s see…” She skimmed the faces around them, attempting recovery. “You’re sitting with Neil. So I might assume crew.”
    Please, God, don’t let him be stage crew. She couldn’t keep flirting with him if he was crew. Could. Not.
    It wasn’t that she was stuck-up—no, that was exactly what it was. She was totally stuck-up. Not a quality she was necessarily proud of, but it had gotten her where she was today. For that reason alone, she embraced it.
    But this man exuded something more superior than crew. She already had identified all the crew heads, so what on earth would he be in charge of? He certainly didn’t read as one of the Urban Arts reps. They all huddled together at one side of the table, a bunch of modern day hippies.
    Maybe he represented the venue—the Broad Stage. He could be in charge of the coordinating volunteers.
    But his well-sculpted body, his confident demeanor said differently. He didn’t sit at a desk. He had strength and power. He had to be with Patrick. There was no other answer. “You’re also sitting near Patrick’s team. And your jeans and T-shirt are designer. I’m going to have to say you’re a Montblanc Exec.”
    “You peg me as an exec? Okay.” He chuckled. “But my ex-girlfriend picked the clothes out. So maybe that shouldn’t be a factor in your concluding thoughts.”
    “ Ex -girlfriend?” Shit, she was so obvious.
    “Yes. Ex. I’m single.” He took a swig from his beer, mesmerizing her with the way his lips circled the bottle. “As are you, if I’m to believe what I read standing in line at the grocery store.”
    “Very single.” She might as well have invited him to her bedroom. What the hell was she doing? She knew nothing about the man. Nothing beyond the fact that he was H-O-T hot.
    As if reading her thoughts, he held out his hand. “Seth Rafferty.”
    His name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She was horrible with names anyway. She gave up trying when his firm grasp closed around her fingers. His touch shot sparks of bliss up her arm and straight down to the warm spot between her thighs. “A pleasure to meet you.”
    He held her hand longer than he needed, his rough thumb grazing back and forth against her soft skin. “Not to sound too cliché, but the pleasure is all mine.”
    “Good, you’ve met Seth.”
    Heather pulled her hand into her lap as Patrick took his seat on the other side of her, setting a glass of wine in front of her as he did. “I was afraid the waitress would take too long to get in here, so I just ordered at the bar.”
    Heather barely heard Patrick’s explanation of his delay or how her wine had arrived. What she focused on was his first line, his acknowledgment that he was glad she’d become acquainted with the yummy specimen sitting next to her. That practically confirmed Seth was with Patrick’s team. Not a crewmember then. Thank the Lord.
    “Yes, we just met.” She lowered her head, fearing her cheeks were coloring yet again.
    If he noticed her blush, Patrick gave no indication. “Have you told her?” He directed his question to Seth.
    “Uh,