One Wild Night (Hollywood Chronicles #1)(4)

Everyone had a Hollywood crush. A free card. A fantasy.

Yes.

Paxton Myles was mine.

But those fantasies were never supposed to manifest themselves as seductive flesh and strong hands and megawatt smiles.

They weren’t supposed to flirt.

I mean, that’s what he was doing, wasn’t it? Or had my subconscious—screaming at me to go ahead and just take the plunge and drop the rest of the way to his feet—convinced me into believing he might have an interest in me?

Stop it, I berated myself, because those were lines of thought I definitely didn’t need to entertain. Even if he was interested, I absolutely was not. Flings were not my style, and they were never going to be.

Within the shelter of the theater, I shoved it all down, took a steeling breath as I checked in, and made my way to the seat I’d been assigned. I did my best to keep the slit of my dress from exposing too much leg as I settled into my seat up close to the screen.

Yeah.

That was impossible.

Roger Ward met my eye from the group of people he and his wife, Lindsay, were chatting with. He wandered my way, eyes scanning as he approached.

“Kaylee, it’s so nice to see you. Thank you for coming. You don’t know what it means to me.”

He held me by both hands, and I leaned forward to receive the kiss he placed on my cheek.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.”

His smile was sincere, and he squeezed my hands tighter, glancing around again. “Where’s that daughter of mine?”

I cringed.

He caught it, and his smile tipped down, lines pulling across his strong brow. “What happened?”

I shook my head, trying to assuage the worry that was so clear. “She’s totally fine,” I said way too fast, before I slowed to clarify. “But apparently some sort of emergency came up.”

The last came out like a question, because how did you explain away the antics of Eleanor Ward?

Clueless, my shoulders lifted. “She called me just as my limo was pulling up. She promised she would explain everything to us tomorrow, but she told me to tell you how sorry she is that she’s not here.”

Questions flashed across his features, and I squeezed his hands a little tighter. “I promise. She wasn’t hurt or anything like that. Please…just enjoy your night. She already feels awful, and I know she doesn’t want you worrying about her.”

Frustration held fast for a fleeting second, before he seemed to swallow it down. “Well, I guess we can’t do anything about it now. And you know Elle. She’s doing whatever it is she really thinks she needs to be doing.”

I smiled with a light chuckle. “Exactly.”

Lindsay came up behind him, gave me a quick hug, and the two of them settled into their seats directly in the row in front of me.

Again, I was struck with just how crazy it was that I was here. I could be annoyed. Irritated with Elle for talking me into coming then turning around and bailing.

But no.

I pushed all that aside and instead sent a silent thank you to my best friend. I never would have the opportunity to experience something like this without her.

I chatted with Roger and Lindsay for a couple minutes before he went up front to introduce the movie.

When he returned to his seat, the lights dimmed.

A shiver of excitement rolled through me. I tried to pretend it wasn’t at the thought of seeing Paxton Myles on the big screen and knowing he was in the room.

Nope.

Didn’t matter at all.

Music thundered through the surround sound, vibrating the ground, the intro a no holds barred attention grabber.

Enraptured by the English scenery, I leaned forward, my hand over my chest.

Roger Ward was truly brilliant.

And by God, so was the face that entered the screen. It was an outright crime for a man to look as good as Paxton Myles, and now I knew first hand it wasn’t just photoshopping and lighting.

So maybe in this film he was playing eighteenth century English Royalty.

None of that really mattered.

Because the man was a freaking Greek God.

The air stirred, a whoosh of quieted activity at the empty seat that was supposed to belong to Elle.

My breath hitched. I struggled not to inhale, struggled not to look. Struggled to pretend as if I wasn’t hit with an overwhelming urge to turn and bury my nose in that masculine scent I could feel prodding at my senses.

The way my chest was heaving and my hands curled around the armrests had to have been obvious enough.

Suddenly he was there, pushing into my personal space, his mouth at my ear. His Southern accent that had me in a puddle earlier was now twisted to match the character on the screen. “He’s a good-looking bloke, isn’t he?”

I had to shake my head to clear it of the stupor. My chin tipped up toward him, my eyes narrowed in a scowl. “Excuse me?” It came out an accusation.

He just sent me one of those belly-flipping grins, the magnitude of it lit up in the frames flicking across the screen. “That bloke there on the screen. You seemed a little…impressed.”

“Um, wow. Someone’s full of themselves, aren’t they?”

I sent the words with all the confidence I could muster, hoping they would knock him down a notch.

His cockiness just grew. Those full lips tweaked into a smirk. “Oh, Kaylee Rose. Don’t act like I couldn’t tell you wanted to climb right over these chairs and fall into that screen. And here I am, in the flesh. No need to go pretending when you can have the real deal.”