But a movie star of Simon’s caliber and success could hardly be considered an underdog; she had to remember that.
They merged into traffic, finally leaving the scrambling photographers behind. “I played my part well enough?” she pressed. “It was convincing even though I’m not an actress?”
He didn’t turn to look at her. “You did fine.”
“Did it come across as natural when I reached for your hand?”
This seemed to pull him out of his brooding. “That was smart. It made you appear confident of my feelings for you and suggested that we’re comfortable touching each other.”
“Great.” Especially since nothing could be further from the truth. Although it was easier to touch Simon in public than anywhere else, even that simple gesture had given her pause.
“But surprised the hell out of me,” he added.
“Why?” He’d taken her hand earlier.
“Because you think I’m the big bad wolf.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You’re afraid to make even accidental contact.”
Knowing him the way she did, she should’ve expected his candor. He always said what he thought, regardless of whether it put her on the spot. “I’m not afraid.” She searched for a better way to explain her reaction to him. “I’m just not groveling at your feet, dying to get a piece of you, like most people.” Because she knew how superficial his attention would be, how quickly it would pass. “You should find that…refreshing.”
The panel between the front and back opened before he could answer. “Boss?”
Simon’s gaze cut to the rearview mirror and the reflection of his chauffeur’s eyes. “What is it?”
“Where to?”
“My place.”
“Your place?” Gail echoed. “You mean, after you drop me off, right?”
“We’re being followed,” he said. “Might as well let them think you’re staying the night. We’ve already put this much into it.”
She twisted around to look behind them. It made sense that the paparazzi who’d staked out the restaurant would want to know where they were going next and follow in hopes of another photo op. She couldn’t pinpoint any specific driver as one of the people she’d seen outside the restaurant, but she hadn’t looked at them as individuals—only as a pack. “Okay, but…won’t they hang around for a while?”
Simon’s gaze returned to the buildings whipping past them now that they’d picked up speed. “Some of them will probably camp out.”
“How will I get home without them noticing?”
“You won’t.” His lips curved into a challenging smile. “I guess you’ll just have to share my bed.”
11
Once they got inside the house, away from the photographers’ prying eyes, Gail suggested she sleep in the room next to Simon’s, where they’d each have some privacy. She didn’t want to worry about brushing up against him during the night, and she didn’t see how having her own room in such a big house would hurt. With her hair mussed and her clothes wrinkled, she’d still be able to put on a good show for any media that had the tenacity to wait until morning.
But he said he had too many domestic workers who might notice and would, no doubt, find the arrangement odd enough to mention to others. So Gail relented. They had to look like lovers, which meant she’d probably be the first woman to spend the night in Simon’s bed without taking off her clothes.
Actually, she did undress—but in his expansive closet, with the door closed. She borrowed a T-shirt and a pair of boxers so she could at least be comfortable. Then she climbed into bed beside him, propped some pillows behind her back as he’d done and watched an indie film he’d been meaning to vet on his big screen.
“You’ve got a nice setup here,” she said when the credits began to roll. She was wondering what they’d do next. Even if he could go to sleep, she couldn’t. Ever since they’d closed the door to his bedroom, she’d been trying to pretend that spending time with him was no different from hanging out with any other platonic friend. She and Joshua had shared a hotel room at various PR conventions, hadn’t they?
But this didn’t feel the same. Besides the obvious difference in Josh’s and Simon’s sexual orientation, Simon was sitting only a couple feet away from her wearing nothing but his boxers. She’d asked him to put on some pajamas, but he’d given her that look of his, the one that said he’d do as he damn well pleased.
His stubbornness on that point should’ve bothered her more than it did. She had a long list of complaints about his character, but she couldn’t fault his looks or his sex appeal.
“It’s not hard to have a nice setup when you’ve got money,” he said, and used the remote to start flipping through channels. “It’s the things you can’t buy that are difficult.”
Even in the dark, with only the glow of the TV screen to light the room, his bare chest drew her gaze. She knew most women in America would give anything to trade places with her, but all she wanted was to go home. Being here, feeling what she was feeling—it wasn’t good. She was the one who’d insisted on the “no sex” mandate, and yet having sex with Simon was suddenly all she could think about. No doubt he’d been hoping that would be the case when he brought her home.
“Are you talking about peace of mind? Or personal relationships?” Using all the self-restraint she could muster, she shifted her attention back to the TV.
“Both.”
She nodded. “You do need some help in those areas.”
With a withering glance that said he didn’t appreciate her comment, he switched to the Golf Channel.
“Golf? Really?”
“Wow, this is like being married.” He kept surfing, but what he chose next didn’t make her any happier.
“Oh, this is perfect,” she said. “I’m equally interested in basketball.”
One dark eyebrow slid up. “It’s SportsCenter. And they’re talking about the Colts. They’re a football team.”
She hadn’t really been paying attention or she would’ve known that from following Matt’s career. “Whatever. You sure know how to entertain a woman.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “You’re the one who tied my hands.”