Star Attraction (7 page)

“It was a lovely jet-setting
lifestyle from here to London, Cambridge and back again, but that meant I
didn’t know exactly what was going on with the business until it was too
late.
 
By the time I paid attention
to my instincts and realized that something was wrong, he was gone.
 
The police searched everywhere, but he
had disappeared.
 
I sold everything
I owned, down to my last scrap of jewellery, my last designer dress, my last
stick of furniture.”
 
Zaira
fidgeted with her glass in silence for a few moments, not daring to look at
him.

“How awful for you.
 
Didn’t you have any family or friends
to help?” Brad said, shaking his head.

“My mother died of cancer when I
was sixteen.
 
I never knew my
father.
 
He died of tuberculosis
just before I was born.
 
It was a
pretty tough childhood, but to be honest, it helped me get through the bad
times after Jonathan left me destitute.
 
I was never interested in those sorts of glamorous things anyway, so it
didn’t bother me when they went.
 
They had caused part of the problem in the first place, with Jonathan
wanting more and more.
   

“With the money I got for our
things, I paid off as much of the debt as possible, and made sure the staff got
something.
 
At least they found me
innocent of any of my husband’s dishonest practices, so I didn’t end up going
to jail, though for a time it looked as though I might,” Zaira said with a
sigh.

“So you will let me help you,
then, and accept my offer?”
 
Brad
urged.

“It looks like I don’t have a choice
either way, does it?” Zaira smiled up at his concerned frown.

“That’s right,” he said,
grinning.
 
“I’m not a man who takes
no for an answer.
 
Now, go out and
spend some of that money on yourself, get a new hairstyle or something.”

Zaira bristled, and Brad
immediately regretted what he had said.
 
She remembered the remark he had made before about her being gorgeous if
only she would do something about her appearance.
 
But she did want him to be physically attracted to her?

“Look, I may have agreed to be your
personal assistant, but I refuse to be done up like a doll just for your ego
and your pride in your own status.
 
If you want me for my brains, fine, if not, find yourself some other
simpering bimbo!” Zaira hissed, and made to rise from her chair.

But Brad held onto her wrist
firmly, and declared, “Simpering bimbos don’t suit me, but you do.
 
All I meant was that you're an
attractive woman, and I don’t see why you insist on hiding that fact.” He
stared at her intently in silence, until Zaira finally calmed down and
shrugged.

“Because I'm still married, and
because I don’t want to call any sort of attention to myself,” Zaira admitted.

“But you haven’t done anything to
be ashamed of!
 
And besides, how do
you really feel about your husband?
 
So loyal, that if he walked in the door this minute, you would throw
your arms around him and forgive him everything he’s put you through?”
 
Brad asked, watching her face closely.

Zaira scowled and shook her
head.
 
“No, no chance of that.
 
He let me down badly in every respect,
and I'll be getting a divorce on the grounds of desertion as soon as I'm
able.
 
I shall pay off all my debts
with the money you’re going to pay me, then I'll be free of the past.”

“I look forward to celebrating
your freedom, then.
 
I know you
said you didn’t care about designer clothes, but perhaps you’ll come out of
your self-made shell then, and show me the real you.”

Zaira became lost in the depths of
his eyes, which glimmered like the sea in the dim light of the pub.
 
“Brad, I don’t know even know who the
real me is anymore.
 
I thought I
had all the answers, until the day the police knocked on my door.”

“Well, perhaps I’m one of the
answers.
 
This will be a great
opportunity for you to try something new, and I’m not often wrong about
people.
 
You have a great deal of
courage, Zaira, enough courage to keep going after all that, enough courage to
try living again, and maybe even enough courage to let yourself fall in love
again,” Brad asserted.

Zaira trembled as he said the word
“love,” and knew the conversation was getting far too intimate.
 
“I’ll take the job for the present, so
long as you understand that I put my lecturing first, and then we’ll see how I
get on after that.”
 
She stood up
and insisted, “No, I can’t stay for another, thanks all the same.
  
Thanks for the offer as well, and
I’ll let you know when I’ve got something worth looking at.”

“Great,” Brad said, beaming like a
kid at Christmas, “but don’t keep me waiting too long!”

Zaira’s grey eyes locked with his
one last time, as she struggled to tear herself away.
 
She waved goodbye, and propelled herself forcefully out of
the door and across the park to the restaurant where Matt was meeting her.

Two days later, Zaira was already
regretting all the complications she had created for herself by not setting the
record straight about she and Zoe Dominick being one and the same person, as
she struggled into the long black wig and out of her suit into some more casual
clothes.
 
The days had sped by in a
whirl of lecturing, writing, and consulting with Matt over the terms the
lawyers had drawn up concerning all her arrangements with Brad Clarke.
 

She was rather enjoying working on
the screenplay, indeed, had become almost obsessed by it, thinking about it all
the time, to the exclusion of virtually everything else.
 
She delivered her lectures almost
without thinking, like a robot, so anxious was she to get back to her laptop
computer and carry on where she had left off.

Matt had been shocked beyond
belief at all her news, and while he was pleased for her, he was concerned that
she might be overdoing it, and that Brad might be rather cross when he found
out that Zaira Darcy and Zoe Dominick were one and the same woman.

To avoid that, Zaira was now
wearing the wig to their rehearsal, but she realized that she couldn't possibly
wear it every time she saw him, and that sooner or later he would know she was
not the dark but the auburn lady.
 
She resolved to go down to the theatrical supply company at the weekend,
and get something temporary she could use on her hair.
 
Fortunately, she only wore her glasses
during the day to suit the professor costume she disguised herself with, and so
her contact lenses, a violet pair which she had bought on a whim two years ago,
were firmly in place once again.
 
Her face was beautifully made up this time, and she wondered if she
could continue to fool Brad once they spent more time with each other for
rehearsals and discussions about the screenplay.

Zaira’s heart turned over when
Brad walked in the door, and her mouth went dry with the beauty of him.
 
Again her nostrils were assailed with
the clean masculine scent of him, and he was dressed in the sweatshirt she had
first met him in only three days before.

“How art thou, o fair Ophelia.”
Brad said with a smile, and kissed her hand.
 

Zaira could feel a spark pass
between them like a thousand volts of electricity. She hastily pulled her hand
away to avoid the searing contact.

Brad frowned at her obvious
avoidance of him, and she thought it best to play it as the busy and capable
director, by bustling around calling for a rehearsal of Act One from the
top.
 

The rest of the cast swept Brad
away into the wings, but she could sense that he was a not in the least
deceived by her performance—she was nervous around him, nervous of the way she
felt every time he came within ten feet of her.

Her mind was only half on her
tasks as director as she reflected that she had never been in lust before, so
completely overwhelmed by a man that she couldn’t think straight whenever he
came near.
 
She wanted to be immune
to his charms, but however hard she struggled, Brad seemed so compatible with
her in every way.
 

Zaira had thought she could never
feel the same way about anyone again after Jonathan had left her, and for a
long time had been completely unable to face the fact that he was not coming
back.
 
But as the weeks had grown
into months, and the revelations concerning his frauds had become more and more
horrifying, Zaira had vowed that no man would ever turn her into a helpless
wreck again.

Now Brad had come into her life,
and within days he had begun to
 
possess her every sleeping and waking thought completely.
 
However hard she tried to rationalize
the situation by reminding herself that she needed the money, one part of her
told her to avoid him like the plague.
 

But the other part of her, the Zoe
side of her nature, recklessly enjoyed the sparks that flew between them.
 
And that Zoe side was beginning to take
over her life as Zaira, whenever Brad came near and tried to crack her crusty
academic exterior.
 

Perhaps Brad was just doing it as
a challenge, she thought, just to see if she was a passionate bundle of nerves
underneath her cool pinstripe suit.
 
Only a few days ago Zaira would have rejected the idea of herself as
passionate, but now whenever she saw those emerald eyes upon her, her stomach
seized and her palms began to sweat.
 
It was as if all her senses were enhanced as soon as he came near,
filling her with a sensual warmth and desire she had never experienced before.

Zaira forced herself to
concentrate on the play, though it was difficult not to just stare at his
amazing physique in open-mouthed admiration.
 
Soon it was her turn to come on, and she tried to
concentrate, but every time he looked at her, she was conscious of his
magnetism, and also of her own deception.

Zaira was also more than a little
irritated that he seemed to take so little notice of either woman that he could
not see Zaira and Zoe were one and the same.
 
But then wasn’t that a credit to her acting ability? She
didn’t want him to get too close.
 
Or did she?

By time they reached the scene
where Hamlet and Ophelia have their last fight, she knew that she was only
trying to fool herself.
 
His hands
gripping her arms set a shiver of excitement through her, and her head bent
back, almost inviting him to stoop down and kiss her.

For one bewitchingly long moment,
Zaira was sure he would; she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he
paused. Then, he delivered the last of his lines and flung her from him, so
violently that she actually did fall.
 
She was completely unprepared for it, and the impact was like a bucket
of cold water being thrown over her.
 
She opened her eyes fully and stared up at him, and she could feel tears
pricking the backs of her eyes at the thought of his rejecting her.

“Sorry, I guess I caught you off
guard,” Brad apologized, and held out a hand to help her to her feet.

But there was an uneasy, almost
hostile look in his eyes which she had never seen there before.

“Not at all, the floor was a bit
slippery, that’s all, and you're very tall.
 
You pulled me off balance.
 
Shall we try that again?” she asked coolly.

Zaira could sense his reluctance
as he agreed, but this time she did not make the mistake of getting carried
away by her desire for him, and now her fall was controlled, but looked
realistic.

“Well done,” Brad commented, “that
part was fine.
 
But you were a bit
wooden before. Try to take your mind off other things, and focus on Ophelia and
her feelings for Hamlet.”

Zaira thought that was fairly
ironic considering that was essentially what she had been doing, but she took
his point, that she was brooding far too much.
 
She berated herself for having acted so foolishly.
 
He probably had dozens of women
throwing themselves at him every day, and she had just been one among
many.
 
The glamorous young Brad
Clarke was famous for pursuing the unattainable; perhaps that was why he was
flattering Zaira Darcy.
 
She vowed
silently that he would have no cause to think she was flirting with him ever
again.