The Price of Fame Read Free

then?’
    One eyebrow rose. ‘You liked it well enough a moment ago.’
    And she had. She sure had.
    He touched her face again. ‘You should make the moves this time. Persuade him you’re hopelessly besotted with me.’
    A stiff breeze ruffled his hair. Black hair too long to call tidy, dark brows and olive skin that told her he was of Mediterranean descent. He had a square masculine jaw and prominent cheekbones. Lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes, as if he enjoyed life in the outdoors. His sensuous mouth curved easily and told her he also enjoyed more than a little indoors activity.
    Hopelessly besotted?
How could she be? She’d never laid eyes on him before. And yet she couldn’t have said it better herself. And that should worry her because she wasn’t going to be lured and seduced by another man’ssuave talk and good looks ever again. A man who undoubtedly knew exactly what he was doing, and did it often and well. ‘I don’t even know your name …’
    Amusement touched his lips. ‘It’s Nic. Yours?’
    She shook her head, rolled her lips together, then said, ‘I should tell you he didn’t have the wrong woman and he’s probably an expert lip-reader.’
    His gaze immediately dropped to her mouth and those dreamy brown eyes darkened. ‘All the more important to head him off, then, don’t you think? Kiss me.’
    His husky demand stroked her skin and she rubbed her jacket and the goose-bumps that sprang out on her arms beneath her sleeves. ‘I …’
Don’t kiss men I don’t know
. Except she already had.
    ‘Say my name first if it makes you more comfortable.’
    As if he knew her concerns. ‘Nic.’ She liked the way it sounded on her tongue. She liked the fact that he was doing his best to put her at ease. That he’d just saved her from public humiliation. That he was possibly the most stunning-looking guy she’d ever laid lips on. ‘Nicholas …?’
    ‘Dominic.’
    ‘Dominic.’ Reaching out, not quite able to look him in the eye, she placed a tentative palm on his chest. His shirt felt warm and smooth against her fingertips. Hard muscle shifted beneath her hand—Her fingers jerked away instinctively.
    But what had Flynn said when he’d ended their engagement? She wasn’t outgoing enough, not glamorous enough, not confident enough to be any aspiring politician’s wife. That after twenty-four years as the daughter of a socially distinguished couple, she should be used to being in the public eye.
    Since then she’d made a decision to work on her shortcomings. Hence this trip. To relax, regroup and refocuson the new direction her life had taken. To work on improving her confidence. She so wanted to prove her ex wrong. Then she could move on. And hadn’t she already proved with that horrible reporter that she could be confident when it counted?
    ‘Hey,’ he murmured, catching her hand and putting it back against his shirt. ‘Just shut your eyes and go with it. If it helps, pretend I’m someone else.’
    No way. If she was going to do this, she was going to enjoy it, and that meant giving him her full attention. Her new life’s direction could afford a little side-trip along the way. Then she’d book herself a room for what was left of today and this evening. She wouldn’t have to see him again—all flights out of Melbourne did
not
go through Fiji.
    So she took a deep breath, then boldly moved her hand over his shirt, taking her time, enjoying the sensation as she let herself relax and acquainted herself with the rugged unfamiliar terrain. Her other hand joined in—there was … so much of him. This excursion could take hours.
    Disgruntled passengers trailing baggage and bad language flowed around them, as if they were an island in a flood-swollen river. Heavy exhaust fumes and the odour of jet fuel from aircraft not going anywhere clogged the air but all she could smell was Nic’s spicy fragrance and warm masculine skin.
    ‘Nic.’ She met his direct gaze and said, ‘Is there