“I had a wonderful time, Mick. Thank you.”
He grinned at her. “You’re welcome. But it’s not over.”
“It’s not?”
“No, there are premiere after-parties. Unless you don’t want to go.”
“Oh, no. That sounds fun.”
They went to another incredibly swanky hotel where there was a party in the amazing and huge ballroom filled with balloons and movie posters and champagne fountains and—thankfully—food.
“Oh, thank God. I’m starving,” she said as she and Mick found a table.
“Me, too. I’m so glad you like to eat.”
She laughed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He gave her a look. “You’d be amazed by the number of women I dated who didn’t eat. You wouldn’t believe the look of horror on their faces when I suggested real food. There’s nothing more depressing than watching a woman nibble on a piece of celery.”
She laughed. “No fear of that from me. Lead me to the nearest cheeseburger.”
There were photographers and media present here, too, but it didn’t seem to be as much of a frenzy as there had been on the red carpet. Still, Tara was mindful that Mick had an image to uphold, so she tried not to shovel food in her mouth, even though at the moment she could have eaten a photographer’s right arm.
The media seemed content to pick on the actors and actresses in attendance and leave them to themselves.
“You’re probably sorry you didn’t bring someone more famous with you,” she said, finally able to speak after her stomach was full.
Mick took a drink of soda, then arched a brow. “Why would you say that?”
“Because we’re pretty much being ignored by the media. If you’d brought some hot actress with you, you’d have gotten more—what do they call it?—face time?”
He laughed. “Honey, I didn’t come here so I could get photographed. God knows I get more photo opportunities than I need. I wanted to bring you so you could have a good time.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her lap, feeling stupid for saying what she’d said. “I’m sorry.”
He tipped her chin with his fingers. “Don’t be sorry. But don’t misinterpret why we’re here. I’m not using you for a photo op for myself, Tara. I brought you here tonight because I wanted to show you a good time. No ulterior motive.”
She slid her hand around the nape of his neck. “Thank you, Mick. It’s truly been the best night of my life.”
He brushed his lips across hers, the kiss soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that made her heart want to do dangerous things—like fall in love.
The flash of a camera made her jump. Tara blinked and looked into the face of a photographer.
“Send me some copies of that one, will you, Jimmy?” Mick asked.
The photographer laughed. “Sure thing, Mick.”
Tara lifted a brow at Mick after the camera guy moved away. “First-name basis with the paparazzi?”
“They shove a camera in your face often enough, you learn who they are. Jimmy’s a nice guy. He’s a freelancer. And I really do want a copy of that picture.”
“Me, too.”
“So, you ready to meet some movie stars?”
Her heart stuttered. “Seriously?”
“Sure.” He stood and held out his hand. “No point in bringing you to one of these fancy things if you can’t say you met some of the big names in Hollywood, right?”
She might just faint on the spot.
MICK SUCKED DOWN A BOTTLE OF WATER AND PUT THE cap back on, staring down at Tara, who’d fallen asleep in the limo on the ride back from the after party.
He’d loved bringing her to the premiere, had enjoyed seeing it through her eyes. He’d been to so many of these things over the years he’d become jaded about the whole experience. And the women accompanying him had been after only one thing—career exposure and as many photo and media opportunities as they could get. Which meant cameras in his face all night and nothing but interviews, with a smile plastered on his face the entire time. These events had become a painful experience.
Until Tara. She’d been wide-eyed and enthusiastic about everything, damn near petrified of the cameras, and had done her best to avoid them. And then she’d gone and apologized for the lack of camera time for him.
Amazing. And refreshing to be with a woman who wasn’t out for herself, but who cared about him. He didn’t really know what to make of her.
But he liked her. Really liked her. A lot. What wasn’t to like? She was beautiful, fun, and sexy, and their chemistry together was explosive. She was sweet and caring, and if he wasn’t careful, he could fall madly in love with her.
If he was ready to fall in love.
Was he?
“You’re staring at me.”
He looked down. Her eyes were sleepy and half-lidded and sexy as hell.
“I am. You’re beautiful when you sleep.”
She shifted, sitting up and smoothing her hand over her gown. “I am not. Sorry I sort of just dropped off there. I think the excitement of the day and night just took its toll on me.”
“It’s okay. You’ve had a long day. You were entitled to take a nap.”
When they arrived at the hotel, Mick took Tara’s hand and escorted her out of the limo. He liked being seen with her, not because she was a star, but because she was beautiful in a natural sort of way that turned people’s heads when she walked by. Another thing he really liked about her was that she had no idea how pretty she really was.
In the elevator she laid her head on his shoulder, her fingers tightly clasped in his. Mick swallowed, a giant lump in his throat.
Keep this light and easy and quit thinking about how big this could get between the two of you.
He slipped the key inside the lock and pushed the door open, holding it for her as she walked inside, her full skirt making all kinds of sexy noises as she glided into the living area of the suite.
She turned to face him, the skirt billowing around her. She looked like a freakin’ princess, and that lump in his throat sank to his chest.
He moved to her and laid his hands on her waist. “Have I told you how incredibly beautiful you look tonight?”
He liked that she actually blushed. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Have I told you what an amazing time I had tonight?”