Wedding Promises. Jennifer Faye
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orbit, keeping him tethered there until it was physically hard to pull away.
The room was filled with beautiful women, yet the only one he could see was Eloise.
And that was going to be a problem. Because he really couldn’t sleep with her. He was being discreet—and that definitely meant no public fling with the maid of honour.
‘I’m sure the bridesmaids’ dresses will be lovely,’ he lied, trying not to imagine Eloise in something slippery, something low-cut, something that just fell off her skin as he pushed it aside...
‘No, you’re not,’ Eloise cut into his thoughts. ‘You know as well as I do that Melissa will have chosen something designed to make her look even more beautiful. Which, given the A-list beauty status of the rest of her bridesmaids, means that we’ll all be wearing sackcloth and ashes, or whatever the modern wedding equivalent is. In this case, something in blue-green satin and chiffon, I believe.’
‘You’d look good in anything,’ Noah replied without thinking, and she looked at him with wide eyes.
‘Thank you,’ she said, sounding surprised. ‘But I’d reserve judgement until you’ve seen the dress, if I were you. Melissa is not above using her powers of fashion for evil.’
They stood side by side, observing the room, and Noah wondered if she was supposed to be working, doing something, instead of standing here with him. Then he wondered if, actually, he was meant to be doing something, in his capacity as best man. Then he decided he didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
‘Did you know about those two?’ Eloise nodded across the room to where the little wedding planner and Riley’s brother were talking with the parents of the groom. As they chatted, Dan reached out and rested his hand at the small of Laurel’s back and she leant against him, apparently finding strength and support in his nearness.
For a moment Noah couldn’t help but think that looked nice, having that sort of connection. And then he remembered the price and shook the thought away.
‘No. They’re together?’ That hadn’t come up in any of the emails and schedules Laurel had been sending over for months.
‘Apparently.’ Eloise’s gaze didn’t move from the group across the room, but Noah couldn’t be sure if she was watching Laurel and Dan or taking in Melissa’s mother’s thunderous face. It looked as if someone else hadn’t known about the relationship either. He wondered if the bride knew yet... That could be interesting, when she arrived. Melissa believed in making an entrance, and that required being fashionably late. ‘I don’t know if it’s serious. I mean...it’s not like Melissa and Riley, is it? Another showbiz marriage destined to fail.’
‘Not all marriages end in divorce,’ Noah said mildly. ‘Only, like, half. Maybe three-quarters, in Hollywood.’
The look Eloise gave him was scathing. ‘That’s a rousing argument for the institution of marriage.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not really my thing.’
‘Yeah, I get that.’ She tilted her head a little to the side as she considered him. Noah tried not to shift from one foot to the other, giving away his discomfort. Usually, he was used to being scrutinised from the other side of a camera or a screen. Up close and personal, it felt a little invasive. As if Eloise was looking deeper than he wanted her to know existed. ‘So, how did Riley rope you into being best man, then? You guys must be pretty close, I guess.’
‘Not really,’ Noah admitted, glad the focus had shifted away from him and onto Melissa and Riley for a while. Their wedding was a much safer topic. ‘I mean, we’ve made a few movies together, done the press junkets. But that’s about it.’
‘Huh.’ She was looking again. Studying him.
‘What?’ Noah shifted his weight from one foot to the other and swapped his empty champagne flute for a full one as a waiter passed.
‘I just figured...the way they both talked about you when we were doing the planning—especially Riley—I figured you were a bigger part of their lives.’
‘Riley said that? I mean, he made it sound that way?’ He’d always assumed that Melissa had insisted on Riley asking him, purely for the celebrity cachet that came with having Noah Cross as best man. But maybe he’d been wrong. After all, as his agent had pointed out, he wasn’t always the best at connecting with people on a deeper level. Even his friends.
‘Yeah. He did.’
‘I...I don’t usually like to get too close to people I work with,’ Noah said, wondering why he felt as if he needed to make excuses to this woman. It was her eyes, he decided. The way they seemed to look right into his soul—assuming he still had one after a decade in Hollywood. He was pretty sure some of the women he’d dated would claim otherwise.
‘Or anyone else,’ Eloise suggested.
Noah tried to ignore her remark but, seeing as it came so soon after Tessa’s comments on the phone, he couldn’t help himself from asking, ‘What makes you say that?’
‘I’ve seen the photos,’ Eloise said with a shrug. ‘All those pictures of you with a different woman every week. Not exactly the hallmark of a guy who gets up close and personal. At least, not in the non-physical sense.’
She sounded too casual as she said it, too desperate for him to believe she didn’t care what he did with women. And, on less than twelve hours’ acquaintance, why would she?
But she did. Noah was almost certain of it.
And he couldn’t do a single thing about it.
‘There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun,’ he said lightly, watching her face carefully to read her response. ‘As long as everyone involved knows that’s exactly what it is.’
‘Just fun. Casual. Meaningless. Shallow.’ She met his gaze with her own fierce blue-green eyes. How was it she seemed to see right inside him, yet he couldn’t read her at all? He prided himself on his ability to decipher people—to read enough to understand them without ever needing to get too close. But Eloise was a mystery.
Noah hated mysteries.
‘That’s right.’ He moved a little closer, slowly, so as not to spook her. Just enough that the sleeve of his jacket brushed against her bare arm.
She flinched.
He was right. She cared, for some reason. His inability to even contemplate monogamy bothered her, and he could not begin to understand why.
But he intended to find out. If he understood her, maybe he’d stop being so obsessed with her—stop feeling the need to be near her, to question her, to deepen their acquaintance. Because deep and meaningful was the last thing he wanted, with any woman. Whatever Tessa said.
Eloise’s tongue flicked over her lips as she raised her eyes to his then looked away again.
Perhaps he was making this too complicated. Maybe Eloise’s problem had nothing to do with deeper motivations at all.
Perhaps she just wanted him the same way he wanted her.
And if that was the case he had an even bigger problem.
He had to be sure.
‘A fling is always good for making a wedding a little more entertaining, don’t you find?’ he asked, and watched her cheeks turn pink.
Gotcha.
She wanted him. And he really wanted her.
Okay, so he couldn’t have her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play a little. Just to keep in practice.
He could find out exactly what issues she had that stopped her from even contemplating a bit of fun. He might even get her to lighten up a bit.
It would be his good deed for the day or something.
Even Tessa would have