Decked with Holly (12 page)

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Authors: Marni Bates

BOOK: Decked with Holly
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Chapter 15
Holly
 
I
had to tell everyone the truth.
Sure, when the two of us had been back in the suite, I thought I could handle it. I just kept telling myself to grab this golden opportunity to become someone popular. I even tried a few pep talks by reminding myself that Jen would look at it as a starring role. Then again, Jen is one of those LA kids who keeps hoping that she'll be “discovered” by a talent agent while eating dinner. She would be all for this ruse.
But as much as I wanted to view this as my chance to deliver Oscar-level material, the whole thing sort of . . . scared me. Especially when the fan girls were not safely on the other side of a locked door and could call me worthless to my face. I hadn't prepared my ego for that kind of a beating.
Our story was supposed to be sweet. The rock star and the average girl: That's how it was supposed to play out to the press, and I thought I could handle it. Except I didn't want to be seen as too ordinary and dull and generally uninteresting for anyone.
It was all just too much.
And that fact came into focus when I spotted Allison and Claire sauntering toward the pool right behind us, wearing two flimsy-looking bikinis that flaunted their considerable assets. If one snot-nosed brat could make me feel crappy, then my self-esteem didn't stand a chance against my cousins. They would take one look at me wearing Nick's striped dress shirt and make some comment, like,
God, Holly! Just because your stuff is hideous doesn't mean you should beg for other people's clothes. Pathetic much?
Dominic Wyatt might need a way to clean up his image—but I, Holly Dayton, wasn't the solution.
Something I might have been able to convince him of if he hadn't decided to become impossible to budge. Which left me babbling in the hope that something would stick and he would agree to head for the hills . . . or back to his suite. That was the only way to prevent my cousins from making it their mission to destroy me for messing up Allison's holiday fling.
But Nick didn't appear to be paying any attention to me. Instead, he was eyeing the people milling around us on deck with a mixture of horror and dread. I had no time to ask what was wrong since the Twins from Hell were aiming right for us and approaching fast.
Time had run out: We had to tell everyone the truth.
“I'm so sorry,” I told Nick, meaning every word of it, “I just can't—”
I never finished that sentence because he kissed me.
He gave a quick tug on my arm so that we were smooshed against each other as he pressed his lips against mine. The guy clearly had way more experience in the kissing department than I did. Either that or he was naturally quite skilled.
But unlike in all the romance novels Jen has loaned me, my brain did not go beautifully blank as music swelled. Instead, one all-consuming thought reverberated through my mind:
What the hell?
Was he kissing me to throw my cousins off our scent? Maybe he just wanted to shut me up. Or could he actually be lip-locked with me because his ardent passion could not be restrained a moment longer?
I had a hard time buying that last theory.
Moving my head slightly back, I opened my mouth to demand some answers.
Except this time I found his tongue in my mouth.
Which wasn't exactly an unpleasant sensation. In fact, the parts of me that were supposed to go all melty went as soft as a Hershey's chocolate bar left in a warm pocket all day. My eyes closed on their own accord, but I could have sworn I saw fireworks. I wanted to wrap my arms around him even tighter while one hand rumpled the tufts of his dark brown hair even more.
I might have even done it . . . if I hadn't heard the cheering.
“That's right, Dominic! Kiss her!”
“Turn this way!”
“Dominic! Who's the girl?”
And finally a scandalized voice I did recognize:
“Holly?”
Hearing Claire's evident disbelief was the fastest way to cool me down short of shoving me overboard. But separating from Nick to discover that we were surrounded by paparazzi busily snapping photos . . . that had me feeling downright chilly.
Dominic Wyatt had played me.
He had known about the press and started that
display
for them. It had nothing to do with me. Nick had probably been pretending the kiss was with someone else too.
But I couldn't haul off and slap him without riling up the photographers even more.
Part of it was my fault. I should have asked Nick about our public displays of affection to sell the story instead of just assuming it would be limited to hand-holding, cuddling, and a few pecks on the cheek. I should have forced myself to ask all the awkward questions. Although I doubted any conversation would have prevented me from feeling like a wad of used Kleenex afterward.
But even worse than knowing I'd been tricked into having my first major Frenching session plastered in magazines was that it had been . . . amazing.
Sure, I still wanted to haul off and slug Nick for using me, but picking up where we left off held a lot of appeal too.
Maybe boy-related recklessness and stupidity was a family trait I shared with my cousins.
Leaning in toward Nick, I whispered in his ear,
“What the hell was that?”
He laughed as if I had made some clever inside joke, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I swear the crowd watching us “aww”ed as he muttered softly, “Follow my lead, Holly. And keep your big mouth shut.”
Yeah, he was romantic all right . . . as romantic as the bubonic plague.
Still, at least his plan had succeeded in making my cousins jealous. They were still staring at us in absolute shock when Nick casually strolled the few feet between us.
The guy was playing the part of the unflappable rock star to perfection.
“Allison and Claire, right?” I thought I detected something slightly wicked flash in his blue eyes. “Holly has told me so much about you.”
“Uh, but, um,” Allison said stupidly, before she caught herself. “That's funny, Holly has never mentioned you before.” She tossed her hair back so that it cascaded beautifully over toned shoulders as she gave him her most seductive smile. “I would remember.”
My stomach lurched and once again I didn't know if it was because of the stress of the situation or because of the ship. If my grandpa ever invited me on another cruise, I planned on politely but firmly refusing him. Vomiting in front of the press was the last thing I wanted to do.
“We both wanted to keep our relationship private at first.”
It was a fine answer, but I awkwardly cleared my throat and was about to excuse myself, when he pulled me against him even more tightly. I could practically hear him thinking,
Just keep your mouth shut for once!
The two of us were going to have a long conversation back in the suite.
“I'd like to join the family for dinner,” Nick continued. “One of these nights.”
Now that wasn't the best idea. My grandpa can be a bit . . . gruff. I wasn't kidding when I told Kate Hamilton that he probably wouldn't consider Nick good enough for me. Age hadn't done anything to diminish his mile-wide protective streak.
So joining us for dinner probably wouldn't go the way Nick anticipated, although I couldn't help admiring the bold move. Especially since he was making my cousins believe that he was absolutely crazy about me. Nick was definitely trying to live up to his end of the bargain in making me feel like a princess. Not even the prospect of lying to my grandpa could destroy my excitement at finally being chosen above my cousins.
Even if I had inadvertently rigged the competition.
“Of course we don't mind,” Allison replied smoothly. “We have so many stories about Holly that you are going to
love
. Why, just last week she—”
“Why don't we save those for later? Nick and I need to finish breakfast, and you're losing prime tanning time talking to us.” Somehow I managed to maintain my fakest smile as I gripped Nick's waist even more tightly.
“It was great meeting you both. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon.”
Apparently, Dominic Wyatt was fully capable of being polite around everyone else in the known universe except me.
But at least this time he took my hand in his as we walked back to our table where he resumed eating. Sipping at a glass of orange juice was about all I thought my stomach could handle—even now that the photographers seemed willing to give us some space. I think most of them were already sending their photos, hoping that would give them an edge in securing the front page. Thinking about that kiss still made me want to smack Nick. Hard.
“We need to talk.”
Nick glanced up at me, but didn't stop eating. “Why is that?”
“Because we need to set some ground rules.”
He leaned in toward me. “As long as you don't have another panic attack and threaten to tell everyone the truth, we should be fine.”
“I was actually referring to you sticking your tongue in my mouth.”
I was sure there was a better way to phrase it, but at the moment that was all that came to mind. Well, sort of. I wasn't going to tell him just how much I had found myself liking it. Because kissing was
way
out of bounds for us. I had agreed to be his fake girlfriend, not a make-out buddy for whenever he felt like it.
I'm nobody's plaything.
“It shut you up,” Nick said smugly. “So I'd say it worked.”
“Way out of line.”
“Just as unacceptable as what you were about to do.” He shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Well, it's
not
going to happen again.”
Which really sucked because Nick was an excellent kisser. If it hadn't been for his complete lack of actual interest in me, I would have enjoyed making out with him for the remainder of the cruise. Too bad I'm not good at forgetting important details.
“Actually, it is going to happen frequently.”
Well, that got my back up fast.
“No, it isn't.”
“Holly, we're playing a role. And this particular role requires kissing and romping in the surf. No one will believe it if we don't.”
“We could always tell them the truth!”
He groaned and stabbed at a bit of egg on his plate. “You keep saying that as if it were an option. We're both in too deep to tell anyone what happened last night. Even if the press did believe us, they'd skewer us for lying. And ReadySet could say good-bye to our spotless reputation. I'm not going to let that happen.”
“I'm just . . . not sure I'm the right girl for this job, okay?”
“You're the
only
girl available.” He eyed me contemplatively. “Would it be easier if I hired you?”
I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open. “If you
what?
”
“Hired you.”
“Like a prostitute?” I asked, mentally shooting fireballs at him.
“Worse.” He grinned. “Like a publicist.”
That surprised a laugh out of me. “How would that help?”
“As a ReadySet employee you'd get a nice Christmas bonus if it works.”
“I meant it when I said I wasn't in our fauxmance for the money.”
“I still think that word sounds stupid. And I know: You were in it for the fame. But now that you realize not all of the celebrity package is glamorous, I thought you might need a bigger incentive.”
“So you're trying to buy me off?”
He rolled his eyes. “It's not like I'm a mafioso trying to throw an election here. I'd be giving you a small stipend to pretend to like me.”
“Wow. That's pretty degrading for you, isn't it?”
He glared at me but didn't say anything.
“I mean, Mr. Ladies Man has to pay little ol' me for a kiss. I'd find that pretty embarrassing.”
“Shut up, Holly.”
“Sorry, the stipend doesn't cover that.”
“Fine, I take the offer back. I was trying to make this easier on you since you are every bit as locked into this nightmare as I am. But forget it.”
He had a point. I mean, my cousins knew about him now. If I told the truth they would mock me mercilessly about it for the rest of my life. Literally. I could picture them holding up their wineglasses at my wedding and saying something nasty like, “We never thought this day would come! When Holly said that she had met a wonderful man, we assumed he was forced into pretending to like her. Again. Anyhow let's raise our glass to the fake bride and her pretend husband!”

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