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The Chatsfield Short Romances 6-10

Revenge in Room 426

Michelle Conder

Strangers in the Sauna

Caitlin Crews

The Bodyguard in her Room

Sophie Pembroke

Doctor at The Chatsfield

Carol Marinelli

The Secret in Room 823

Dani Collins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Revenge in Room 426

About the Author

Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Strangers in the Sauna

About the Author

Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

The Bodyguard in her Room

About the Author

Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Doctor at The Chatsfield

About the Author

Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

The Secret in Room 823

About the Author

Blurb

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Copyright

Revenge in Room 426

Michelle Conder


Step behind the hotel room doors of the Chatsfield, London…

Journalist Chloe Tyler has a plan:

1 Use the press junket for Liam Hunter’s latest movie to get revenge. She shares a past with this movie star and his betrayal left her broken-hearted and a total laughing stock.

2 She’ll use him, seduce him and once he’s begging? Cut him loose.

But Chloe is playing a dangerous game and soon a pretend seduction becomes all too real! Suddenly the world’s best laid plan for revenge might just be the one thing standing in the way of Chloe’s happiness!

Chapter One

It was him!

No, no, it wasn’t… damn, yes it was. And he looked… Chloe Tyler flattened herself against the brickwork at the Chatsfield London hotel and tried not to stare. Which was a bit like those lab experiments where small children were told not to touch a plate full of cookies or something equally tempting, because Liam Hunter was born to be stared at.

He always had been. The most popular boy in high school, probably the most popular boy in kindergarten as well, he was, at twenty three, now the most popular star to grace the silver screen. Privileged. Wealthy. Spoilt. Chloe pulled a face. Basically the opposite of her. The poor, dorky exchange student who had gone to America looking for adventure and come away with egg on her face. Like every other girl in senior high she had fallen head over heels in love with him. Then she’d got to know him when she’d started tutoring him in English and not only did she think him the best looking guy she had ever seen but the nicest as well.

Boy, did he relieve her of that misapprehension very spectacularly. And very publicly.

His horrible prank had been the most humiliating experience of her life and he’d even posted the video of it on YouTube where it had gone viral. God, even her father had seen it.

Making sure to keep well out of his line of vision Chloe was unable to tear her eyes away from his long, muscular frame as he strolled along the red carpet and greeted what seemed like thousands of screaming fans and paparazzi. It had been five years since the nightmare of prom night. Five years since she had seen Liam Hunter – aka rat loser extraordinaire – in the flesh and unfortunately he looked better than ever. Larger. Leaner. His tawny brown hair, worn long now, sat just above shoulder length in an artful array of thick layers. His broad shoulders were encased in a navy blue shirt open over his trademark white t-shirt, and aged denims road low on his lean hips and muscular thighs, ending in worn workman boots.

Ha. The man – for that was what he was now – had never done a day’s hard labour in his life. He was the Golden Boy who could do no wrong, except that he had a snake’s personality and he thought nothing of hurting others. Of hurting her. And her fall had been that much steeper because he’d done it after making her feel so special. So wonderful. So beautiful.

Yeah, right. That should have been her first clue that something was up. If there was one thing Chloe wasn’t it was beautiful. Oh, she had some pluses – she had creamy skin that despite her red hair hardly freckled and blue eyes with long dark lashes and an okay smile. Unfortunately she had red hair - really red hair - that had a tendency to frizz when it was humid and her nose was a little on the prominent side, made worse, in her opinion, by her too wide mouth. Added to that she also had size eleven paddles on the end of her legs and was as tall as a giraffe.

As far as Chloe was concerned, the only women who fared well from being tall were supermodels and basketball players. Of which she was neither.

Suddenly dizzy she realised that she was holding her breath and released it in a rush. Painful memories of Liam’s cruel joke buzzed into her head like darting mosquitos around a bag of blood and she pushed them away, reminding herself that she was here to do a job whether she liked it or not.

A job that had landed on her desk yesterday afternoon when Globe magazine’s flighty entertainment journalist had decided to take off to follow a singing career. With her boss left in the lurch Chloe had eagerly jumped into the fray to take over Candy’s next assignment.

God.

She released a long slow breath. If only she’d asked who Candy’s interview subject was before she’d said yes.

Refusing to continue to dwell on what she couldn’t change Chloe slowly peeled herself away from the wall and walked with leaden feet past the still amped crowd – no doubt waiting for the other star of the movie to arrive, the divine Bethany Lord.

Flashing her press card at the uniformed doorman, Chloe barely noticed the grand staircase or the elegant clientele of London’s premiere hotel as she hurried down a maze of wide corridors and pulled up short at the end of a long line of journalists.

The man in front of her turned and smiled by way of a greeting and Chloe noticed that he wore glasses. She used to wear glasses before she’d had laser surgery on her eyes. Liam had called her Specs during their tutoring sessions and she’d loved it. Loved him. Chloe groaned and covered it with a cough behind her hand.

A friend had told her that if she went on exchange to the USA, the Americans would find her exotic and that she’d be Miss Popular within minutes of arriving.

In fact the opposite had happened.

Chloe’s social awkwardness and tendency to take everyone literally had shone out like a warning beacon and she’d been an outsider the whole time. Well, maybe not the whole time. She’d been accepted by the ‘in’ crowd for about two weeks towards the end. But that hadn’t been real. That had been set up to lull her into a situation that wasn’t unlike the way ranchers corralled unsuspecting brumbies into hidden yards and then yelled ‘gotcha’. Only the kids at West Preston High hadn’t yelled gotcha because they’d been too busy laughing.

When she had returned to England her aunt had told her that the best revenge was to live well and Chloe had done that. She’d put the events of her past behind her and focused on her career. Focused on creating a steady, comfortable life for herself. And she’d succeeded. She was happy. Or she would be when she got this horrendous interview out of the way.

Suddenly an electric ripple ran down the line of waiting journalists. ‘He’s here,’ the journalist in front of her announced unnecessarily. Chloe glanced at him wryly. She’d already guessed they weren’t all a-twitter over the cleaning lady.

***

A fantasy she had constructed on the Tube journey came back to her. A fantasy about how she would walk into Liam Hunter’s room and he would be so bowled over by her new look and compelling sophistication that he would fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness and ask her to go out with him for real, only to have her frown down at him as if he was slime on a rock and say ‘whatever for?’ or some such put down of equal merit.

Of course she’d immediately discounted the idea. She did not want Liam Hunter to find her attractive. Now or ever. She was here because if she hadn’t shown up she’d be most likely sacked from the dream job she’d landed six month ago.

So why the short skirt and fitted blouse?

‘Don’t be nervous, love,’ the man in front said reassuringly, pulling her attention away from her skirt that was not short by today’s standards and her professional, not fitted, blouse. ‘I hear Liam Hunter is one of the good guys.’

So many responses to that statement played on the edges of Chloe’s lips but in the end she just smiled weakly. The Golden Boy’s reputation continued to soar and frankly she didn’t know how he did it.

The line inched ever closer and Chloe’s breakfast churned alarmingly in her stomach. Nerves. Dammit all.

‘Well, good luck,’ the man in front doffed his cap at her and Chloe fiddled with the strap of her shoulder bag as she realised she was next.

She should be thinking about her questions. Thinking about how she could shorten five minutes to two. Thinking about how she could show Liam Hunter how over that whole experience she was. Instead she stood in front of the glossy cream door separating the two of them and thought about the past. It was so clear in her mind she might as well have been standing outside the prom in the awful purple dress she had bought with the last of her savings and which had rubbed under her armpits. Once again she could feel the warmth of that summer night on her skin. Hear the cicadas as she walked into the dance hall where the covers band played loud and true. Worse, she could still see the sweetness of Liam Hunter’s smile and smell his wonderful male scent as he’d leaned forward and kissed her. Kissed her for the first time.

Chloe’s hands started to shake as the rest of the memories came crashing in. The excitement of turning up at his best friend’s house for the privileged after party for all the rich kids in town. The confused moment when she’d walked into the main room to find it lit by what seemed like a hundred candles. The soft music playing from an unseen stereo. And the large banner on the back wall. ‘Chloe Tyler, will you marry me?’ She still remembered with cringe-worthy clarity that moment of complete exhilaration that the boy she had fallen in love with loved her in return. It was only afterwards that she’d thought of the absurdity of the proposal. At the time she’d been buzzing from equal parts wine and happiness and she’d thrown her arms around Liam Hunter’s neck and declared her love for him for all to see.

That was when the main lights had come on and everyone had fallen about the room laughing. Oh, she remembered the laughing but even if she hadn’t the video had captured every stunningly awful moment. It had also captured the look on Liam Hunter’s face.

Pity.

He’d looked at her as if she was the most pitiful creature in the whole world. And after the video of her total humiliation they’d titled ‘a social experiment’ came out on YouTube everyone had agreed with him. Including Chloe.

God, the only thing missing from that horrible night had been the pig’s blood. It had been an out and out prank and she’d been the gullible fool who had – for one brief, thrilling moment – fallen for it.

At the time Liam had tried to blame his friends but Chloe didn’t believe him. One of the girls who felt sorry for her had told her the whole story and… dammit, she didn’t want to keep thinking about it. She wasn’t a frizzy-haired social misfit anymore. She’d grown up and she was a budding career woman in charge of her own destiny.

‘Next.’ A beautiful woman who looked like an LA supermodel but had whip-like authority in her voice that said she could lay you out cold with her little finger stood waiting impatiently in the open doorway.

A budding career woman who was about to throw up all over the plush Axminster carpet between them. Chloe couldn’t go in there. She just couldn’t. No way. No how. No–

Of course you can go in there, she admonished herself sharply, and you will.

Yes, good.

Chloe patted the sides of her head to make sure her sleek bun was still in place and smiled at Miss LA before raising her chin and sailing past her into the room.

A budding career woman who already had a reputation for being polished and professional under pressure and Liam Hunter was still the rich, spoilt – most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

Chloe’s heartbeat boomed like a drum inside her head as she stared at her nemesis slouched in a bucket chair. His long jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him and seemed to take up half the spacious room; his broad shoulders and wide chest took up the other half. A hot flush crept up Chloe’s neck and she fought to draw what little oxygen was in the room deep into her lungs.

Thankfully he wasn’t looking at her; his head bent over his mobile phone so that the caramel-coloured shoulder length hair that had made every woman swoon in the cinema the night before at the private press screening fell artfully forward, hiding his chiselled jaw. She wondered if Miss LA in the sleek black suit had tousled it into place just so for him.

Her eyes drifted to the enormous poster pinned to the wall between the two chairs. It was of Liam and Bethany Lord standing side by side in all their medieval glory. Bethany in her suit of armour and Liam with his black fur cape billowing out behind him and his shiny silver sword crossed over the opposite shoulder; a fierce scowl on his face that said he could conquer the world – with his bare hands if need be. The words ‘The Most Wanted Man’ were emblazoned across the bottom of the poster followed by his name. An unnecessary addition if ever there was one. Liam Hunter’s charisma and powerful presence made him that alone – his handsome face and lean muscular body just finished off the package. And the film, a moving epic about war and loyalty and love had been phenomenally good. As had Liam Hunter as the heroic star.

‘Liam, this is Candy Lane from Globe magazine.’ Miss LA’s voice pulled his head up, a genial smile already curving the edges of his lips in that sexy, confident manner she had grown to hate. Realising that her magazine had forgotten to inform his staff of the change in interviewer Chloe was about to correct her when the woman tapped a sharp fingernail against her laptop. ‘Your five minutes starts now, Ms Lane.’ And I suggest you don’t waste it by gawking at the star, she might as well have added.

Chloe glanced toward Liam who was still smiling at her and she realised that for all her pep-talking she was just as captivated by him as ever.

Then she realised something else. He didn’t recognise her.

Wait. What?

Chloe’s stomach clenched in disbelief. At the very least she had expected that he might be uncomfortable with her in the room and she only just realised how much she had been looking forward to that. For him not to recognise her after the way he had kissed her so tenderly at the prom, after the way he had humiliated her, was completely shocking to her. Completely, appallingly shocking. A well of hurt and rage so deep it was more like an ocean rose up inside her. Had she really been so forgettable back then? And worse, was she still?

As much as she hated to admit it, Liam made her feel invisible all over again which raised the old insecurities she thought she’d put well behind her. God, had she ever disliked anyone more?

Chapter Two

Still reeling from having Chloe Tyler walk into the interview room, Liam hoped that he really was as good an actor as the critics proclaimed and that none of his surprise showed on his face.

He’d thought that perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him earlier when he’d caught a glimpse of her outside the hotel. It had seemed too coincidental that the only person he’d intended to look up during his brief visit to London would come to him. But here she was. And she looked exactly the same.

Oh, she definitely looked more polished and was much better dressed than the last time he’d seen her in high school, but she was still all big blue eyes, fiery red hair and creamy skin. He’d always had a hankering to run his hands over her skin and that last night – prom night – he’d nearly given into it.

He’d kissed her just before entering his friend’s post-prom party and been blown away by how sweet she was. He’d kissed a stack of girls by the time he got to senior high but none had made his heart beat faster like Chloe Tyler had. Not that he would have admitted as much back then. Back then, when his friends had dared him to get the ‘nerdiest’ girl in the school to fall in love with him.

Not that Liam had ever seen her that way. It might have been completely illogical but he’d got to know her while she tutored him and he’d liked her. Not enough to ever consider dating her. His image had meant too much to him back then, especially with his father breathing down his neck about his university placement letters. The last thing he’d needed was to have his father accuse him of choosing an unsuitable girl to date. And his friends would have laughed; which Liam knew he would not have had the maturity to handle back then.

Looking back, he’d been going through a bit of an identity crisis thanks to his old man’s rock-solid expectation that he would follow him and his grandfather into the law. His grandfather had started the firm way back when and neither man had stopped waxing lyrical about whether Hunter and Hunter would soon become Hunter, Hunter and Hunter or Hunter and Sons.

Liam had wanted to act but the one time he’d broached the idea with his father he’d laughed and told him that only gays and girls went into the arts. With the school year drawing to a close and his university acceptance letter laying heavily on his mind he’d been looking for a distraction and his juvenile behaviour had wound up hurting the only person who seemed to value him for who he really was and not who he would one day become. The only person he had ever shared his acting dreams with other than his father and who hadn’t laughed in his face.

And here she was. In the flesh. In the very cool and reserved flesh. Not that he could blame her. He owed her one hell of an apology.

But what was with the name change? Had she really changed it or was Candy Lane a type of pseudonym? He knew plenty of actors who had distorted their name to make it sound better.

Or worse, was she married and Candy was a cute moniker her husband called her? He cast a quick glance at her left hand but she was gripping her iPad in such a way that he couldn’t see her ring finger. But he could see her long legs and he’d always wondered if they had been as shapely as her delicate ankles had suggested.

Yes, the answer to that question was a resounding yes, and a sudden picture of how those slender legs would look wrapped tightly around his hips as he thrust deep inside her shot into his head.

Liam shifted in his seat as a raft of raw lust caught him unawares and brought him up short. Where the hell had that come from? Okay, he might have thought she was a nice girl once, and perhaps he still remembered the heat behind their first kiss, but that was a whole solar system away from this kind of thinking. He didn’t want to have sex with Chloe Tyler, he wanted to apologise and atone for his unintentional, but cruel, actions in the past. He wanted to show her that he had grown up since then and that seeing the pain on her lovely face had been the start of that process.

The start of him working out who he really was so that when the YouTube video his friends had secretly put together had gone viral and casting agents had called in the thousands he’d been able to take advantage of his new, unexpected, notoriety and start the career he’d always wanted. That he’d inadvertently stood on Chloe Tyler to get it made him feel like an A grade asshole. Had she forgotten all about the teenage prank? Of did she still hate him as much as she had that night?

A five-minute interview with his PA wandering about was hardly the time for him to ease his guilty conscience and find out. But at least her turning up like this meant that he no longer had to try and find her while he was in town and he knew he couldn’t let her leave without arranging a time to catch up.

‘Take a seat,’ he offered amiably, indicating the vacant chair opposite his.

***

Liam’s delicious voice rumbled out of him rich and dark and sent shivers all over her… and that was the very last thought Chloe was going to have about him that didn’t include the words ‘rat’ or ‘loser’.

Stiffening her spine, she marched towards the empty seat opposite his and positioned her iPad on her lap, tapping at it to bring her pre-prepared questions up on the screen.

The word on the street was that Liam and Bethany Lord had been more than just co-stars on set. Chloe didn’t care about that. She liked to think of herself as more a hard-hitting journalist than a sensation seeker and would never stoop to report on such tawdry topic material. And Liam could sleep with half the women in Hollywood and she didn’t care a fig.

So, he hadn’t recognised her. So what? Deep down she was glad he hadn’t. Now she could relax. Treat him like an anonymous interview subject. Treat him just like any other stranger she had come across in her work. Treat him as if he meant nothing more to her than a piece of lint she might pluck off her jacket, and God help her if she had a knife handy she’d stick it right through him.

‘So, Mr Hunter,’ she began with supercilious sweetness. ‘Congratulations on the movie. It was quite a story.’

Liam’s grin was slow and kicked up the edges of his lips and Chloe ignored it completely. ‘I’m not sure from that comment if you liked the film or not, Ms… Lane, was it?’

Not wanting to outright lie, Chloe moistened her lips and pushed on. ‘You’ve never done a period piece before. Is this ah, something we will see more of in the future?’

Liam shrugged. ‘If I’m offered them and the scripts are good.’

‘Right.’ She stared hard at her iPad and read the next lame question. ‘Did you enjoy making this film?’

‘I did.’

‘What made you choose it?’ And do you really not recognise me as the girl you kissed so sweetly at senior prom and then humiliated so spectacularly afterwards?

He shrugged easily. ‘The script. The director. The physicality of the movie.’

No, he did not and even though she told herself not to get angry her blood sang with it.

‘Right,’ she said again, not caring a wit about his answers. ‘And the physicality of the film is important, is it?’

He tilted his head a little at her asinine question and looked like he was about to say something before changing his mind. ‘Sometimes. I’m a physical guy, I guess. But I would say that’s less important than the storyline.’

‘Oh yes, the storyline.’ She sniffed. ‘Hardly ground-breaking stuff though was it? I mean, don’t you think it reinforces the old male/female paradigms?’

Chloe was hoping to score a point with that one but he gave her another trademark smile. ‘Depends which paradigm you’re talking about?’

Oh, he knew which one, damn him, and he looked like he was enjoying her grilling rather than being annoyed by it. ‘Well you rescue the heroine from the bad guys and save the day. Tell me, was it a stretch to play the hero?’ Considering it’s not part of your genetic makeup?

Chloe heard a muffled cough from Miss LA behind her and wondered for a horrible moment if she had said that last bit out loud. It was one thing to want to insult him and quite another to do it while she was on the clock.

‘I don’t think there’s any character that isn’t without his faults. Even a hero, at times.’ His eyes seemed to bore into hers and then he smiled. ‘And for a while in the film Bethany’s character thought I was the bad guy and she kicked my butt. Something you might have enjoyed.’

Not half as much as she would have if it had been real. ‘True, but then you once again ended up on top.’

His smile was lethally charismatic and Chloe couldn’t have looked away to save herself. ‘I don’t think she was too unhappy about that.’

What female would be?

‘In real life or in the movie?’ Chloe could have groaned as the crass question left her lips. So much for modelling herself on Veronica Guerin. But now that it was out there she had little choice but to lift her chin and wear it.

She noticed his thick, dark lashes come down over his mesmerising green eyes and thought that, if anything, the question had seemed to score a hit of some sort. Go her.

***

Chloe’s pointy little question about his co-star made Liam frown and usually he wouldn’t even bother responding to one of that nature. Romances between actors sold magazines. He knew it and so did the actresses he worked with but it didn’t mean they had to add fodder to it.

For some reason Chloe’s question bothered him and he realised with a flash of insight that it was because he didn’t want her to think poorly of him. He didn’t want her thinking he was just a pretty face who couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag, as his father did. He also didn’t want her thinking that he was some sort of player who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Since starting in this business he’d had more offers from women than stars in the sky and he could count on one hand – okay, maybe two– the number of times he’d given into those. The fact was his career meant more to him than a quick bout of sexual release with women who would spread their legs for most any movie star they came across. ‘That’s like asking me if I really put my sword through the antagonist’s heart,’ he countered.

But Chloe was no longer the mouse she had been in high school. ‘Hardly.’ She stared him down and he wondered if she still wore those cute round glasses she used to. ‘Stabbing is illegal. Kissing isn’t.’

‘No, it’s not,’ he murmured. He found his eyes drawn to her throat as she swallowed. Hell, his eyes were drawn to every part of her and he really needed to get some control over his libido. He didn’t really want Chloe Tyler in that way, did he?

‘Bethany Lord and I were acting,’ he assured her. ‘If you thought the chemistry between us looked real then we did our jobs well.’ Which was the truth. Bethany had been great to work with but there had been nothing even slightly romantic between them.

Intrigued about what Chloe might say next Liam was disappointed when his PA interrupted again.

‘Time’s up, Ms Lane.’

***

And thank heavens for that. Now she could get the hell out of there and maybe go and order a gin and tonic from the main bar off the hotel foyer. Maybe she’d order three. And maybe she’d ask the bartender to hold the tonic on the first two.

‘Thank you, Mr Hunter.’ She stuck her hand out automatically and then wished she hadn’t because Liam took it and the warmth of his strong grip engulfed her.

Once again her heartbeat sped up and she couldn’t tear her eyes from their joined hands, his palm warm and slightly rough against her own. A tingling sensation shot along her nerve endings and caused a shiver to snake down her spine. Unfortunately he saw it. And his slow grin said that he took it for what it was. Pure sexual awareness.

When she tried to surreptitiously pull her hand free Liam gripped it tighter. ‘I’m having a party in my room later on tonight. Come.’

He ran the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand and the meaning behind his touch couldn’t have been clearer. To say that it shocked her would be a gross understatement.

Was it possible that Liam Hunter was attracted to her?

No. Not her per se – but possibly to this new version of her. He was interested in the well-groomed woman with the red lipstick and, okay, the short flirty skirt. He didn’t want the dorky country girl she suddenly realised that she still was deep down inside. The girl who preferred hot chocolate to coffee and still wore fluffy animal slippers in the privacy of her own home. The girl who still struggled with her hair on a daily basis and who wasn’t quite as over the boy she had fallen in love with as she would like to think she was.

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Yaş sınırı:
0+
Hacim:
214 s. 7 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781474013666
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins

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