LITMIR.BIZ

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in the back of a chauffeur-driven car should be ashamed of. How in heaven’s name was she going to get through the next few days if she couldn’t get her berserk hormones under control? She fidgeted, smoothing the grey fabric of her skirt under her palms. To stop herself, she locked her hands, as if she was praying, only to end up rubbing one thumb over the blue varnish on the other as if doing so might erase the color.

      “The day after,” she replied primly. “And the general idea is to get you in clothes, not out of them. If it was a naked photo shoot you’d hardly need a fashion stylist.”

      Alex laughed. He ploughed the fingers of one big hand into his jet-black hair. There was silence and then he hit her with a bombshell. “For the record, I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

      She gulped. Her throat felt tight as if she’d tried to swallow a peach stone. “Oh, it’s no biggie.” She whooshed a hand through the air, as if sweeping his words away. Her heart thudded as if it had been surgically removed and replaced with a piece of rock. She wanted to kick herself. Not a biggie? Of course it was a biggie. It was the biggest biggie of all time. She’d been crushed.

      “I should have called,” he insisted.

      “I really truly didn’t expect you to.” She babbled out the brush-off. “I mean, I rang your mobile a couple of times.” Six – at least. “You had things to do.” She’d got voice mail and hadn’t known what to say. When she’d tried him that final time, Nick had answered Alex’s phone. She’d told him to give Alex her love and wish him luck. He’d promised he would.

      A shiver ran through her as though someone was trailing icy fingers along her spine. When he hadn’t called back, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her grandmother had warned her to keep her expectations of the male species extra low. It was safer than having shattered hopes. She hadn’t believed her. She’d gone into the adult world with an open heart. And she’d been hurt. Twice.

      Although she was controlled on the surface, her mind was paddling like a duck’s feet underneath. She’d thought she and Alex shared something special. They almost had. Only he’d kept his feelings locked away. Maybe allowing her to get that close had been a step too far. He’d always been out of reach.

      After the holidays everyone was buzzing with the news that he’d dropped out to make Mercy of the Vampires. At the time she’d ached, knowing that he wasn’t coming back to London. The disappointment had been excruciating, but she’d clung on to a thread of consolation. He hadn’t just dropped her. He’d dropped his entire life.

      “It’s ancient history.” She gave a nonchalant shrug and a bright smile. She’d had an airy- fairy notion that, in spite of her grandma’s professed wisdom on the non-existence of soul mates, she might prove her wrong. She and Alex simply weren’t meant to be.

      Then along came Marcus and she’d had the stuffing knocked out of her. She’d come back a day early from working away, turned the key in the lock, and walked into her home to discover her fiancé getting down and dirty with someone he’d picked up at the pub. She wasn’t even that attractive and she was at least ten years older than Maggie. Maybe twelve. The gut-wrenching shock had turned her cold.

      “Anyway, I called you, remember? You were busy and Nick answered. I told him to wish you all the luck in the world, and … well, anyway … c’est la vie, as they say.”

      One hand on his perfectly hewn-in-granite chin, an inscrutable shadow darkened his gaze.

      “I apologize,” he rumbled. “It was inconsiderate.”

      “It’s okay.”

      She’d been miserable. She’d felt cut off and abandoned, but she’d understood. Like she’d understood why her dad had left her mum pregnant, and why her mum had left for Spain without her when she was only eight years old. Understanding why people left each other behind was what she did. It was practically a talent. And one that had come in handy when she’d walked away from Marcus. Bouncing back from the heartache was another matter, but she’d become quite good at that too. She’d dreamed up a foolproof method for guaranteeing that she’d never have to bounce back again.

      The car sped towards downtown Boston. She turned away, feigning interest in the grey city they’d landed in, all the while scraping at one nail with another so that some of the blue peeled away revealing a pale streak. It was high time they put this clearing the air of Alex’s behind them. She decided to steer the conversation onto safer ground.

      “I gather Mercy of the Vampires is going out with a bang.”

      “About time too. The show has been running my life for a decade.”

      “Tell me about it. I’ve caught episodes in hotels all over place. I’ve watched Jarvis and Jago wreak havoc in German, French, Italian, and Spanish.”

      “You’re a fan of the show?”

      “It’s kind of impossible to avoid it, frankly.”

      “Well, it all ends in hellfire just before Christmas, you’ll be glad to know.” Maggie refused to let herself look at him. She kept on staring out of the car window.

      “Rumor has it you go out in the sunlight with a string of garlic wrapped around your neck and Nick, I mean Jarvis, strangles you and then rams a stake through your heart, just to be sure he’s finished you off.”

      “It could happen,” he joked. “And I don’t mean in the TV world. Nick’s not best pleased with me at the moment. In fact, that’s an understatement. He’s furious. We’ve got a day of back-to-back promo here in Boston tomorrow. And the same again in New York next week. If he can find a string of garlic that’s long enough, I think he’d happily throttle me.”

      Maggie knew she’d detected an atmosphere between the brothers. “Best strike Paris off your promo tour list. They use a lot of garlic there.”

      “Nick had better watch it. It might turn out that Jago’s the one who can’t be trusted with a string of garlic.”

      The deep rumble of his laugh gave her tingles. When she’d agree to style Alex and Nick, she’d been fascinated, and a smidge nostalgic. Part of her had wanted to prove that he was just someone she used to know. Only he was turning out to be a whole heap of fantasticness more than that, and she wasn’t at all sure how to deal with that.

       Play. It. Cool.

      She splayed her fingers and looked at her hands. She’d paint her nails sunshine yellow next.

      Alex steeled himself the minute the car pulled up in front of the hotel. The driver opened the car door and he stepped out, throwing a quick glance about to see if Nick had arrived yet. Knowing him, he’d probably taken a spur-of-the-moment detour. Loyalty to his family came first, but the conversation he’d just had tugged at the frayed edges of his stoicism. He’d gone to LA for Nick, put his own life on hold, and forgotten all about Maggie. Something inside him sparked the moment she stepped onto the plane. She was lovely – with hints of the bubbly, colorful girl who stood out from the crowd he used to know. She’d changed, though. He couldn’t put his finger on it, exactly, but she’d become sort of buttoned-up.

      He automatically glued on his sunglasses, despite a heavy sky and grey pavements slick with rain. He summoned a bellhop to take care of the luggage and stood back to play the gentleman, guiding Maggie into the all-mirrors-and-marble lobby with his palm placed protectively in the curve at the base of her spine. Despite the long flight he crackled with energy at her scent of wild flowers. A wicked knot tightened his gut. It would be tempting to see if he could unbutton her, prove that he could have the exact opposite of the soporific effect he’d had on her ten years ago.

      The hotel was old and elegant with a smooth, marble floor, a grand carpeted staircase, and a glittering chandelier, which cast a welcoming glow over the lobby, where a clutch of smart Japanese tourists had gathered on bygone chic sofas and chairs, chatting animatedly over their cameras and shopping bags.

      Ignoring Maggie completely, the immaculately groomed

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