Undone by the Star Read Free Page B

morning…

 
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
    Alex wanted to pump the air with her fist. It had taken her half the morning, but she’d done it! Centre court seats at Wimbledon for a couple from New York. A friend of a friend of a friend who was willing to swap a day’s tennis for a walk on the red carpet in two weeks’ time.
    “I love my job,” she breathed aloud as she bent over to write a note.
    “Glad to hear it.”
    Alex felt her heart clench. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. She’d spent the last two days avoiding him, and tuning out the idle chatter of the younger girls who were besotted with him. Now Marc Daniels, the film star whose name seemed to be on everyone’s lips, was standing in front of her desk. In her lobby. Alex straightened slowly, helpless at the sight of him. Blue-eyed, clean shaven, and every inch the star from his crisp oxford-cloth shirt, also blue, to his well-cut jeans.
    He shouldn’t smile; it was so unfair.
    “What can I do for you, Mr. Daniels?”
    “You could start by calling me Marc.”
    “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” Alex looked over his shoulder. She was such a charlatan. He was no more “Mr. Daniels” in her imagination than he was in the flesh, but just because he was the embodiment of male perfection didn’t mean he could jump the queue. At least not hers. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” Alex signalled one of the clerks at reception.
    “Certainly.” Marc took a step back, his expression bland. The last thing he wanted was to further offend the prickly Miss Kirkwood. Although he would dearly like to tease her about the u-turn she’d made last evening when he’d come out of the bar with his press agent, or the way she’d sidled into the elevator behind a party of six just as he was heading out for a meeting with his producer.
    Perhaps he should have kept the beard. The young man Miss Kirkwood had called over was now standing next to him as wide-eyed as a raccoon. Apparently, “Jeremy” was her assistant. Cursing the burden of celebrity, Marc politely ignored him. Until he realized it wasn’t him the kid was interested in; it was her. That brought Marc up short. He was competing with a twenty-one-year-old! Who would have lingered had Miss Kirkwood not firmly sent him on his way to deliver the message she had just written. Only then, he noted with appreciation, did she turn her gaze on him.
    “How can I help you, Mr. Daniels?” she asked sweetly.
    Marc gave himself a shake. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. It was…childish.” He winced at his choice of words, yet they were true. He had acted as the only child he had been, the son of a pair of academics who were so engrossed in their professional lives they had often left him to his own devices. Toy soldiers re-enacting endless battles had turned out to be the perfect training ground for an actor. But when it came to the conversations that really mattered, he invariably flubbed his lines. “You were only doing your job,” he began again, “in what I now realize was a difficult situation.”
    “No excuse,” countered Miss Kirkwood. “Had I known who you were…but then, here I am about to give one.” Was that a touch of humour he heard?
    “You have to admit it was pretty funny when we heard that toilet flush.”
    He was rewarded with a smile that lit up the same golden-brown eyes that only a few days ago had flashed at him in anger. Now that was worth grovelling for. “Shall we call it a truce then?”
    “Yes. I would agree to that.”
    “Thank you,” said Marc. He meant it in all sincerity knowing that what he really wanted to do was meet her later for a drink or have dinner together, but that would make her uncomfortable. The other afternoon had been a lesson in humility. He ought to be protecting her from the likes of him, not leveraging his position at her expense. It was obvious how important this job was to her. If he were to hazard a guess, he’d say it was