The man had a point, Eloise conceded as she turned within the circle of his arms and struggled to open the door with shaking hands. If they didn’t get to a bed soon it was very possible they’d both be naked in the corridor within five minutes. Maybe less.

Finally, the door gave way and they tumbled into Eloise’s room. It wasn’t anywhere near as grand as Noah’s, but she didn’t imagine he cared very much right then. She definitely didn’t.

As she fell onto the bed, Noah’s body covering hers, Eloise’s last coherent thought before giving in to pleasure was, As long as it’s a secret, no one can get hurt.

* * *

Later, much later, Noah drew lazy patterns on her skin with his clever fingers, and Eloise couldn’t even find the energy to care that she was naked beside one of the world’s official top ten most beautiful men, and he was staring at her. Her. Boring, embarrassed and blushing Eloise Miller, with her too bright hair and her too tall and straight body.

‘You’re really good at that,’ she managed eventually, the first words either of them had spoken since they’d fallen apart in each other’s arms after what seemed like hours of pleasure. In reality... Eloise squinted at the clock. How had it only been forty-five minutes since she’d been telling Melissa she wasn’t sleeping with Noah Cross? ‘Practice, I suppose.’

‘Maybe I was just very, very motivated.’ Noah pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, then carried on up her neck. Eloise squirmed until he captured her lips and she let herself sink into the kiss.

It was secret. He’d promised. It was just them, just one night.

She could let herself have this, and enjoy it. Just this once.

Noah raised himself up on one elbow so he was looking down at her. Eloise wondered where he’d found the energy. Blinking and breathing were taking all of hers.

‘What Melissa was saying before...’ Noah trailed off, and Eloise would have groaned if she had the strength. The last thing she wanted to talk about while in bed with Noah Cross was Melissa. ‘About your mother...’ Noah began again, and she realised she was wrong.

The absolute last thing she ever wanted to talk about was her mother.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said quickly, hoping she could end the conversation before it really got started. ‘It was a long time ago.’

‘It seemed to matter to you earlier. I mean, you promised Melissa you wouldn’t sleep with me because of it.’

‘And look how well that turned out.’

Noah’s smile took on a hint of smugness. ‘Chemistry like ours...you can’t promise that away. Trust me, I tried.’

‘You tried?’ If the last couple of days had been Noah trying not to sleep with her, he sucked at it.

‘Not very hard,’ he admitted. ‘But you’re not the only one who needs to keep this a secret. There’s this director... Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just say it’s not in my best interests to have this be public knowledge either.’

That was good, Eloise thought. If they both needed it to stay secret, they’d both be more motivated to keep it that way. And that meant there was a chance she might survive this week after all.

‘So why did you risk it?’ she asked, frowning. She wasn’t the sort of woman men took risks over. That was definitely her mother, or Melissa. Not her.

‘Because I couldn’t not,’ Noah said, smiling. ‘I know my limits when it comes to resisting beautiful women.’

‘You’ve experienced this a lot?’ Eloise didn’t like that idea. For her, this was a completely new feeling. The idea that Noah had this with every woman he met... It wasn’t that she thought she was anything special, exactly. But if she only got one night with him, she at least wanted it to be one he’d remember.

‘Never,’ Noah swore, his gaze fixed on hers, truth in his eyes. ‘Not like this.’

‘Me neither,’ Eloise whispered. And, worst of all, she was very afraid she might never feel it again. She’d gone twenty-six years without ever feeling anything close, so it didn’t seem likely that the kind of intense passion she had with Noah was waiting for her around every corner.

‘I don’t do this,’ Noah admitted, and Eloise raised her eyebrows. He obviously sensed her scepticism because he went on, ‘Not the sex. Yes, I’ve slept with women. Probably less than you think, but that’s not the point. I mean...’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘Normally, this is easy. Casual. I don’t feel the need to ask questions, to get to know a woman’s personal history. But with you...it’s different. You’re different.’

Something in Eloise’s chest tightened. Part of her wanted to be pleased, to be proud to be something more than the usual casual encounter that Noah indulged in. But another, larger part of her heart was curling up in the corner of her ribcage, wishing he’d move on and stop noticing her.

Because, whatever he said, she knew the truth. He might not feel it now, but Noah Cross didn’t do deep and meaningful. Maybe he wanted to hear all about her childhood woes, but would he give her anything in return? She doubted it.

But still she found herself saying, ‘What do you want to know?’

‘She was an actress, right? Your mother?’ Eloise nodded. ‘So, is she the reason you don’t date actors?’

‘I don’t date actors because I’ve known too many of them,’ Eloise said with a sigh. ‘And most of them were sleeping with my mum.’

Noah winced. ‘Ah.’

‘Yeah.’ She turned onto her side so they were face to face in the darkness, what little light there was coming through the window glinting in his beautiful eyes. ‘She was a big fish in a small pond, I guess. She’d been on the West End stage before she had me. She was pregnant when she met my dad.’

‘He’s not your biological father?’

Eloise shook her head. ‘No. But he was the one who was there for me, every moment. Every step of the way.’

‘So, what happened? They got married?’

‘They did. And they moved out here, back to the town where my dad had grown up. His family were all gone but...he loved this place, and he wanted Mum to love it too. But she didn’t.’

Eloise sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself for the rest of the story. Living it had been horrendous, but surely just telling it couldn’t be that bad.

She’d never had to tell it before. Everyone else around here just knew.

‘The one thing she did like was the Theatre Society. Our town has a small community theatre. A proper stage, raked seats—the whole thing. So, after I was born, Mum joined the Theatre Society. And because she had the experience on the London stage, well, she became the main attraction pretty quickly, I think. As long as I remember, she had every starring role in every play or show they did there. And if she didn’t...well, she’d threaten to walk out until they changed their minds. They couldn’t afford to upset her, you see. She was their star.’

‘I’ve known actresses like that,’ Noah said drily. ‘And actors too. They’re not fun to work with.’

‘No. I can’t imagine Mum was, for most of the people in the society. But her leading men...’ This was the hardest part. ‘Every production, it was the same story. They’d cast the best-looking guy against her, and every time Mum would make him fall for her. Whether she fell for them too, I don’t know. She always claimed to be desperately in love with them—at least until the show was over. Then she’d drop them and come back to Dad, until the next show. But by then...she’d destroyed those men’s lives. Their marriages were in tatters, their reputations ruined. Some had left their families, lost their friends, sometimes even their jobs, for Mum. And she just forgot them the minute the curtain came down.’

‘How many times did she do this?’ Noah asked, his voice soft.

‘Too many. I don’t know. Maybe six, or seven? It didn’t start until I was about ten, I don’t think—or, if it did, she was more discreet about it. But by the time I was a teenager, everyone knew what she was. What she did. And every guy swore she wouldn’t get him—but she always did. If she wanted a man, she had him. And every time my dad was left humiliated.’

‘But he always took her back. Why?’

‘He loved her.’ It was as simple and as awful as that. ‘And she loved him too, I think. In her way. She always came home in the end, full of apologies and talk about how things would be different. And they were, for a time. It just never lasted.’

Eloise had always known, from watching her parents, that love was as much a trap as a blessing. That she had to be careful who she fell in love with—because that would be the rest of her life, right there. She could leave, or he could, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she loved him, and she’d carry that with her every day.

Was it any wonder she’d never let herself feel that deeply before?

And she wasn’t going to start with Noah Cross.

‘And Melissa held your parents’ behaviour over you?’ Noah guessed.

‘For years. She made sure everyone knew—and told everyone who’d listen that I was just like my mother. So no girls would be friends with me in case I stole their boyfriends, and no guys would risk being seen with me in case people made fun of them. I didn’t even have a proper boyfriend until just before I went away to university. There were a couple of guys at school...but Melissa stole them away pretty fast. Then Derek...’

‘Derek?’ Noah prodded when she trailed off, and Eloise sighed. This was the most humiliating bit.

‘The summer before I left for uni, I was in a play at the Theatre Society. I’d been in loads before, but always in the chorus or helping backstage. This was my first real role. And Derek...he was the director. Older than me—he was twenty-five, I think, to my eighteen. But he took a shine to me. He was my first real everything, I suppose.’

Noah shifted closer, something Eloise hadn’t thought was possible until she felt his arms holding her tighter. ‘What happened?’

‘Mum had the lead role, of course. But her leading man broke his leg a couple of weeks into rehearsals. Derek stepped in...’

Noah winced. ‘And your mother?’

‘Did what she always did.’ Eloise shrugged. ‘I don’t know why I thought it would be any different, just because he was my boyfriend instead of someone else’s husband.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘Melissa, of course. She sent me down to the prop room to fetch something when she knew they were there together.’ Eloise swallowed at the memory, her throat suddenly tight. If she thought about it too long, she became eighteen again—in the grip of infatuation, sexual awakening and too many hormones, and seeing all her dreams and illusions shattered in one instant, as she saw her mother half naked against the prop table, and Derek kissing her.

Noah cursed. ‘What did you do?’

‘I shut the door, walked away and pretended I’d never been there. I finished with Derek, of course, who didn’t seem all that disappointed. And then I ran away to university.’ She’d been searching for freedom, the ability to be herself, without the baggage of her family history. But all she’d found was that she was the same shy, scared and gullible little girl in a different town.

‘And after college you moved back here?’ Noah sounded surprised. ‘You even came and worked at the same hotel. Why?’

‘It was my home,’ Eloise said firmly. ‘I couldn’t let them take that from me. When I first took the chambermaid job here at sixteen, I guess I was just looking for some freedom. But when I came back...it was a safe place. My place.’

‘I guess I can understand that,’ Noah said, but his tone said he couldn’t.

She sighed. ‘Also...university wasn’t the fresh new life I was hoping for. Turns out I was the same naive and gullible Eloise there too.’

She’d thrown herself into her business studies and, in her final year, a relationship with another student. Everything seemed perfect—they’d talked about setting up an events business together, about heading out into the real world and making it big. Everything she’d dreamed of seemed close to coming true—running her own business, living her own life, making a success of things at last. Until he’d run off with her best ideas and the only friend she’d made at university, leaving all her classmates talking about it.

Really, was it any wonder she avoided love these days?

‘Do you want to tell me?’ Noah asked, and Eloise shook her head.

‘Let’s just say, at least the guy who screwed me over personally and professionally at uni wasn’t an actor.’

Noah didn’t press for the whole sordid story, which she appreciated. She’d shared enough of her past disasters for one night.

Instead, he kissed her shoulder and asked, ‘Where are your parents now?’

‘My dad died while I was at university. My mum...she’s still in town. Her memory is going, though. Early onset dementia, the doctors said. She can’t even remember everything she did back then. These days she’s just a harmless old lady, I suppose. And the town... Well, they haven’t forgotten, I don’t suppose. But there are newer and better scandals to talk about most of the time.’

‘Until Melissa came back and brought it all up again.’

‘Yeah.’

Noah sighed. ‘Well, I guess that explains a lot about your attitude to actors.’

With a laugh, Eloise lay back, breaking the intense connection between them. She felt lighter, somehow, for telling him everything.

‘Of course, you’re still hugely biased against us.’ Noah followed her, his body pressing against hers as he kissed her again. ‘Not all actors are the same, you know.’

‘Maybe not,’ Eloise allowed. ‘But a lot of them are. Look at you—a different girl on your arm in every photo.’

‘That’s different.’

‘How?’

‘That’s...it’s not me,’ Noah said. ‘It’s the Noah Cross the press and the public want to see.’

‘So it’s all an act. But do the women you take out know that?’

‘Always.’ Noah’s eyes were serious above her. ‘I’m always upfront. It’s one night, or several, but it’s never serious. They know the deal. I never fall for them, never tell them I love them, never give them any expectations.’

‘So you try never to hurt anyone.’ But was he protecting them or himself? Eloise couldn’t be sure. ‘Isn’t that kind of lonely?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘So why do it?’

Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled over to lie beside her again.

‘What about your family?’ Eloise asked instead. ‘You’ve heard all about mine. Tell me about yours. Are they proud of you?’

Noah barked out a harsh laugh. ‘Not exactly. My dad’s opinion of actors is about as good as yours. He thinks we’re all entitled, self-obsessed, narcissistic idiots. Not that he’d put it in those words.’

‘Why?’ Eloise asked. ‘I mean, why does he think that? And what about your mother?’

‘I grew up in standard middle America. My family were God-fearing, humble and happy to stay at exactly the same level they’d always been. Working a factory job, drinking beer on a Friday night and never looking for anything different.’

‘But you weren’t,’ Eloise guessed.

‘No. My best friend and I...we always talked about getting out of town, escaping to LA and seeking fame and fortune.’ Noah gave a half smile at the memory. ‘I always thought it was a bit of a pipe dream—until the day she said, “Let’s go”.’

‘And you went.’

‘Yeah. I did.’ He smiled at her. ‘And the rest is history.’ Leaning in, he pressed kisses over her shoulder, obviously hoping to distract her. But Eloise had more questions.

‘Why did you want to know about my mother?’ she asked. ‘And don’t say it’s because I’m different. Everybody is different. If you want to know me...I need to know. Why?’

Noah shifted beside her, lying flat on his back as he stared at the ceiling. Eloise turned onto her side and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, almost absently, it seemed. Was he always like this with a woman after sex? He said the conversation was new, but what about the closeness? Eloise knew she’d never have the courage to ask.

‘I can’t completely explain it,’ Noah said eventually. ‘But I’ll try.’

‘Good enough.’ Resting her cheek against his chest, Eloise felt his heartbeat thrumming through her body, in time with her own, and listened.

‘When I first saw you...I wanted you, I’ll admit that. You’re gorgeous, Eloise, whether you know it or not. And there was something about you. I wanted to be close to you. I thought...’ He gave a little laugh, low and meek. ‘I thought you might be an easy conquest to make the wedding a little more fun.’

‘Which I was.’ Eloise shrank back at the realisation, but he held her close against him.

‘No. No, you were anything but.’

‘We’re naked in my bed, Noah. I think I’ve been conquered.’ And how easy she’d been for him to claim.

‘I think...I think you might have done the conquering,’ Noah said after a moment, and Eloise stilled in his arms. ‘My agent told me I had to behave this week, if I wanted this director to take me seriously for a big role. No flings. And I tried, I really did. I knew you weren’t like the other women I see. You didn’t know the rules yet. You saw...more of me. Deeper. And when I kissed you this afternoon...’

When he didn’t continue, Eloise said, ‘What? What happened then?’

Noah hauled her up his body so she was staring into his eyes, every inch of her pressed up against him.

‘When I kissed you, I knew none of it mattered. I couldn’t help myself. I knew I had to be with you.’

CHAPTER TEN

HE’D GONE TOO FAR. Noah knew that the moment the words left his mouth. And if he hadn’t known the shock in Eloise’s eyes would have told him.

‘For tonight, I mean,’ he said, backtracking fast. ‘I couldn’t leave Morwen Hall without one night with you.’

‘And now you’ve had it.’ Eloise pulled away, and he resisted the urge to tug her close again. He wasn’t staying—this wasn’t love, wasn’t for ever. They both knew that, whatever the crazy attraction between them would have them believe.

‘So, what’s next for you?’ Eloise asked, putting a few inches of blanket between them as she propped her head up on one hand to look at him. ‘After you leave Morwen Hall, I mean.’

What was next? He had no idea. He couldn’t think beyond this bed, beyond this moment. Beyond her.

‘What’s this film where the director needs you to be celibate?’ she went on, and Noah breathed a sigh of relief. That was safe. They could talk about the film, about his career. That had to be less perilous than the spiral of feelings sleeping with Eloise had opened up inside him. Or the connection her confessions about her parents had started to foster between them. ‘More beating people up and saving the world?’

He huffed out a laugh. ‘No, actually. It’s more of a relationships movie. About a guy trying to move on after his wife’s death. It starts eight days after she dies, and follows him through to eight years later.’

‘Sounds deep and meaningful,’ Eloise said. ‘Both things I thought you tried to avoid.’

‘In my personal life? Sure. Professionally...it could be a good move.’ Except that wasn’t why he was doing it; Noah could admit that to himself, even if he couldn’t admit it to her. He needed something more in his life. More than the superficial and the meaningless.

He just wanted to do it on his own terms. That way, at least, he could protect himself from the dangers of feeling too much.

The problem was, when he was with Eloise he could feel himself wanting more. Suddenly everything he’d always relied on—a fleeting connection, the ability to walk away unchanged—wasn’t enough. And the other way lay madness—he knew that from experience.

‘You really want this part, don’t you?’ Eloise asked, and when he turned to her she was watching him too closely.

‘How did you know that?’ he asked, staring back. He hadn’t said how much it mattered to him, hadn’t even hinted at anything beyond a professional reason for wanting the role. But Eloise had known all the same.

‘I pay attention,’ she said. ‘So, what is it about this film? Why do you want this part so much?’

‘The script is...astonishing. It’s the kind of film that wins awards.’ But that wasn’t all and Eloise seemed to realise that. She stayed silent, waiting for him to say more. ‘It spoke to me, I guess. I just knew I had to make this film.’

‘The same way you knew you had to have me?’ Eloise shook her head, red hair tumbling over her bare shoulders. He remembered pulling the pins out of it one by one and watching it fall loose. The sight of her undone had taken his breath away. It still did. ‘This is quite your week for strange, compelling feelings.’

‘It is. I blame you.’

She laughed. ‘Why? For acting out Shakespeare with you and putting you in touch with your inner Romeo?’

‘Because ever since I saw you I’ve wanted something more than I have.’ He inched closer, resting one hand on her waist. ‘You know, I spoke to my agent about this part and she told me that if I wanted it I’d need to start looking deeper, start accessing the feelings I’ve locked away for years.’

‘As well as swearing off sex?’ Eloise shook her head. ‘She’s tough. But...maybe she’s right.’

‘Maybe she is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how. It’s been years. But when I met you... I knew you were the sort of person who felt deeply. Who saw deeper, who found meaning.’

‘So you thought I could help you get the part?’ She frowned. ‘I’m really not sure how that would work.’

‘That’s not it,’ Noah said, at a loss for how to explain it. ‘I tried staying away from you, but every time I saw you it seemed more impossible. I tried keeping my distance anyway, tried keeping it just physical. But the moment we kissed...there was more of me in that kiss than in the last ten movies I made.’

‘I felt it,’ Eloise murmured. ‘So why not finish what you started? Look deeper. Feel more. Be the guy you need to be to get that part. I’ll listen.’

‘I showed you mine; you show me yours?’

‘Basically. Isn’t that part of what looking deeper means? Dealing with your past? You’ve heard all my childhood traumas. What are yours? It has to be more than disapproving parents, right?’

Noah’s jaw tightened as the memories flooded over him, so intense even after all these years that he worried he might be swept away by them. It felt wrong even thinking about Sally now, here, in bed with Eloise. But he had to admit she was the first woman he’d slept with that he’d ever considered talking to about what had happened.

Could he do it? Should he?

He’d be leaving in a few days. Whatever this connection was between him and Eloise, it would be over the moment he left Morwen Hall. He didn’t worry about Eloise spilling all to the Internet, or trying to make money by selling her story. He might have only known her a couple of days but he knew she wasn’t that person. Especially now she’d told him about her mother.

Eloise was safe. And if he wanted the part, maybe this was what it would take.

‘There was a woman,’ he started, then stalled.

‘Isn’t there always?’ Eloise asked sadly. She moved out of his arms and, for a moment, he thought she was going to get out of the cosy, safe cocoon they’d made in her bed. Then she settled against the headboard, still naked, and tugged his arm until he curled up against her side. She settled her arms around him and waited for him to continue.

Noah kissed the top of her breast and rested his head on her shoulder. When was the last time he’d been so close to a person, when they weren’t actively having sex? Had he ever been? If he had, he couldn’t remember it. Not even with Sally...

He was supposed to be telling Eloise all about Sally.

‘She was my best friend,’ he said eventually.

‘The one you moved to LA with?’

‘Yes. She was...she was my family, more than my real family ever were. They didn’t understand me or the life I wanted to lead. Sally did.’

‘She sounds great.’ Noah listened for any hint of jealousy or envy in Eloise’s voice, but it wasn’t there.

‘She was. We got a flat together to start with, but then she met this guy. She’d won a part on a TV show, and he was one of the other actors. She was crazy about him. But he wasn’t a good guy. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was about him, but I knew he was wrong for Sally.’

‘What happened?’ Eloise asked. ‘And when did you realise you were in love with her?’

Noah sighed. It said something about his levels of emotional understanding that, even seven years later, Eloise knew after five minutes what it had taken Noah years of friendship to realise.

‘I think I was always in love with her. Right from the day we met, back at grade school.’ She’d walked straight up to him, stuck out her hand and said, ‘I’m Sally. You’re my new best friend.’ And that was all it took. ‘But I guess when we hit high school, I realised it for real.’

‘And you didn’t do anything about it?’ Eloise asked, surprise clear in her voice.

‘I wasn’t Noah Cross, Film Star then, remember. I was nothing. And Sally...she was all I had. The only person in town who understood me—who I was, what I wanted, what mattered to me. I couldn’t risk losing that.’ The idea of her walking away because she didn’t feel the same way had been far too terrifying for him to take the chance.

‘So what changed? I mean, I assume something did.’

‘Yeah. She moved out of our flat and into his house, and I realised I’d missed my chance.’ He’d waited too long and he’d lost her. It had felt like the end of the world—until he’d learned what real loss meant. ‘But I figured she was happy, so I should be happy for her. But then she showed up one day with a black eye and I knew I had to get her out of there.’

Eloise stayed silent but her arms tightened ever so slightly around him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed. Even after all this time, the horror he’d felt as he’d seen the bruises marring Sally’s perfect skin could still make him feel sick to his stomach.

‘I took her home and we talked. She told me it had been going on for months. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. I still can’t.’ He dipped his head, hiding his eyes from hers. She didn’t need to see the shame in them. The guilt. He’d been so busy thinking about himself—about how he felt, what he’d lost, his own emotional turmoil—that he’d missed what was right in front of him and let the woman he loved get hurt. ‘She agreed to leave him. And then...’

‘You told her how you felt,’ Eloise guessed when he didn’t continue.

‘Yeah.’ The feelings were all coming back now, whether he wanted them or not. Those deep, hidden feelings that he’d locked up for so long, because he knew what came next. Knew he couldn’t have all that hope and that happiness without the pain that followed. ‘Sally...she told me she thought she might feel the same, or that she could one day. We kissed and, just for that brief moment, everything was perfect.’ He stopped, just wanting one more moment of that peace, without the fear that snapped at its heels. They lay together in the quiet of the room, listening to the sounds of the hen and stag parties still going on downstairs, and for a moment Noah believed that could be the end of the story.

But then Eloise broke the silence. ‘I almost don’t want to ask what happened next. But I think I have to.’

With a sigh, Noah pulled away, out of her embrace. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he stayed facing away from her as he spoke, every word cutting through him as it formed on his lips. ‘We agreed to take it slow. We’d already waited so long, and we had our whole future together to figure it all out. The next day, she went back to his house to pack up her stuff while I was out at a call-back audition. I asked her to wait until I could go too, but she wanted to get it done. He was supposed to be at work but...

‘I got the part—my first big movie role. I raced home to tell Sally, but when I got there the flat was empty. And then the police called.’

There was a rustle of sheets and then Eloise’s body was pressed up against his from behind, her warmth flooding through him as she pressed kisses against his shoulders. But those kisses couldn’t erase the guilt he carried every day. He should have been there—not just that day, but every day before that. He should have been looking outwards, not inwards. He should have been there for her.

But he wasn’t.

‘He’d beaten her. So hard she’d blacked out, they think. And when she fell...her head cracked open on the corner of the table. She died in moments.’

‘Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.’ Eloise spoke against his skin, holding him tight to her. ‘So, so sorry.’

They were just words, Noah knew. They couldn’t fix anything. Couldn’t heal the searing pain that had cut through him that day and never fully gone away. His scar tissue might not show on the outside, but it was still there and he felt it pull most days.

But the thing about scar tissue was that it healed thick and hard, and painless. He might feel the tug around it, like healthy skin, but the dead area—his ability to love, to feel those deeper emotions—they didn’t hurt at all.

They couldn’t.

So he didn’t look inwards, not any more. He looked outwards—to easy, casual relationships, to films that focused more on explosions than feelings. And he pushed the guilt and the sorrow down beneath that scar tissue and pretended they weren’t there.

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