Superstar Page 4

  Like kiss her.

  It wasn’t his style to seduce inebriated women.

  Four

  Giggling, Cam kicked off her shoe. The heel flew across the room and banged against the connecting door.

  Schnikes! He might think she was knocking. That wasn’t good.

  Struck by another fit of uncontrollable laughter, she kicked off her other shoe and rushed toward the nightstand. After digging out her phone, she flopped onto the bed and dialed Lark’s number. The second she heard a click, Camryn launched into her story before Lark could even say hello. She whispered, though, aware through the haze of liquor that Maximo might hear through the door.

  “Lark, you won’t believe it! I totally had dinner with Max! Maximo Payne! We ate food and drank wine. I drank more than he did, and I ate three plates of food so now we’re going on a tour!”

  “Are you drunk?” Lark asked. Then she laughed. “You’re ten sheets to the wind, woman! What are you talking about? Dinner with Max? A tour? Explain!”

  “Oh my God. He’s so handsome in person. You can’t even believe. And he’s tall, and he’s fit, and he’s got these eyes that can look right into your soul.” Camryn realized she was getting off track a little bit and didn’t really care. “I thought I was gonna die sitting there talking to him while we ate.”

  “You sound so much like a fangirl it’s not funny.”

  “I’m not a fangirl!” She glanced at the connecting door then rolled onto her side, facing away, paranoid he might hear. “Seriously, he’s amazing. No wonder so many women of all ages are losing their panties over him.”

  “I’m not sure losing their panties is the correct term—”

  “Lark, he’s taking me on a private tour of Rome!” Cam giggled into her hand. She was not typically a giggler, but it had been a long, long time since she’d had so much wine.

  “You’re actually not kidding, are you?” Lark said, as if just then realizing that Camryn really was serious. “Does he know who you are? Is this part of your interview?”

  “No, no, no. I didn’t get a chance to tell him.” What a little white lie that was. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. After we see a few things.”

  “Camryn, this could be dangerous. If he doesn’t know who you are, and he shows up to the interview the next day, he might think you deceived him on purpose. Then he’ll cancel the interview and the whole trip will be for nothing.”

  Lark was saying many of the things Cam had thought before the three glasses of wine. At the moment, all she could think about was dinner and the tour tomorrow. “It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay, I promise. He’s reasonable, he’ll understand.”

  “Have you seen Raquel yet?” Lark asked.

  The name was akin to a cold splash of water to the face. Cam sat up on the bed. Raquel, Maximo’s rumored lover, was here in Rome as well.

  He had a lover.

  Why, then, was he taking her on a tour of Rome? Maybe he and Raquel had an open relationship, the kind where he could see anyone else he wanted to. Camryn wasn’t sure what to think about that.

  It was hard to think seriously about anything at all right now. She wanted to roll around on the bed and delight in the fact that she got to spend more time in Maximo’s company.

  “I haven’t seen her, no.” Cam scooted her legs over the side of the bed to the floor. “Maybe they broke up.”

  “And yet he’s staying in the same hotel as she is,” Lark pointed out.

  “Maybe they broke up recently.” Cam liked the idea the more she thought about it. It made the most sense. “Besides, he’s just being chivalry. I mean chivalrous. He’s being nice. And he lost a dare, too.”

  “Girrrrrl, you need to be careful. Tomorrow you’ll be more aware. Right now, I think you’d jump into bed with him if he asked.”

  “I would not! I’m not that drunk. Just a few glasses of wine. And some limoncello. You have to try the limoncello! I’ll bring a bottle home.” Cam stood up. She swayed and caught her balance with a hand against a nightstand.

  Whoops.

  Maybe she was a little more soused than she thought. Laughter erupted, girlish and high. “I’m gonna crash. I have to be up with the worms.”

  “You mean the birds. Good grief. Get some sleep!” Lark ended the call.

  Cam swayed toward the dresser and changed into pajamas. It took her more than fifteen minutes to get her foot in the holes of her baby-blue shorts and to button the front of the matching top.

  Laughing for no reason, she giggled her way to the bed, stripped the covers down, and flopped face-first. “Night, Massssimo.”

  Punctuality was one of Maximo’s strong suits. He liked to be five minutes early to everything. He also liked it when other people were as punctual as he was. Standing outside Camryn’s door, hands in the pockets of his jeans, he waited. He’d already spent twenty minutes downstairs in the lobby, where they’d planned to meet.

  No Camryn.

  Finally, when he could feel irritation start to prick beneath his skin, he raised a hand to knock. Loudly. BangBangBang.

  From the other side of the door came a thump.

  Max’s lips quirked. Had Camryn just fallen out of bed?

  The patter of feet preceded the door swinging open. There she stood, one eye half closed, hair a wreck. The buttons of her nightshirt were askew, all in the wrong holes, and her shorts had twisted halfway around her hips. A fake eyelash had come loose and fluttered every time she blinked.

  Confronted with such a mess, it was all Maximo could do not to laugh. He felt the rumble start low in his chest while his lips curved into a devious grin.

  “Ohmygod.” Camryn shut the door in his face.

  Max’s laughter spilled over. He found he couldn’t be annoyed with her for being so late, not when she’d looked so amusingly adorable. The flashes of golden skin he’d glimpsed along her legs and belly only added to the appeal.

  Struck by a devilish streak, he put his mouth close to the door so she would hear him inside. “How long will it take you to be ready?”

  “Uh . . . I’m hurrying. I’ll be there. I mean, just give me a second or two.”

  His body trembled with fresh laughter. She was seriously hungover. Maybe still half-asleep. He heard bumps and thumps and bangs. A door closed, then opened several minutes later.

  Within ten minutes, Camryn appeared. She looked surprisingly well put-together, considering. Max appraised her choice of khaki shorts, a sleeveless white eyelet shirt, and running shoes. She’d managed to fix her fake eyelash, put some makeup on, and had twisted her hair into a disarrayed bun of which the style seemed artfully contrived. Wisps of mahogany had escaped to brush along her throat.

  “Hi,” she said, stepping into the hallway. She closed the door and slid the strap of a purse over her forearm.

  “Good morning,” Max said. The delay in departing the hotel might make their escape riskier, but there was no help for it now. All he could hope for was that the photographer who had charged past security was detained somewhere for a while.

  “I’m really sorry. Usually I’m much more punctual than this,” Cam said, fixing the hem of her shirt.

  “We’ll make do. You ready to go? We might need to skip the coffee, at least until we leave the hotel,” he said, gently guiding her toward the elevators.

  “No, no. That’s fine. I’m almost awake now.” She smiled, a hint of extra color on her cheeks.

  Max escorted her to the elevators and down to the main floor. Instead of aiming for the front doors, he guided her to the back garden. Tables sat under awnings, surrounded by fountains, plants, and manicured hedges. Small twinkle lights beat back the darkness, though dawn would soon be upon them.

  “Is there another entrance I don’t know about?” Camryn asked.

  “We’re taking a less obvious route away from the hotel. I hope you don’t mind,” he replied.

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  Max didn’t offer any explanations, and found himself relieved whe
n she didn’t press for answers. He escorted her through a side gate and led her along a footpath that emerged at the front of the building. The hotel door was perhaps thirty feet away, partially blocked by parked cars. Max immediately turned Camryn in the other direction and headed for a dark sedan idling with its headlights off.

  “This is us.” He opened the back door and assisted Camryn inside. A quick glance around proved he’d managed to avoid paparazzi for the time being.

  Sliding in beside her, Max closed the door and leaned back in the seat.

  Escape complete.

  Five

  Shoes, check. Bra, check. Purse, check. Breath . . . oh no. She’d forgotten to brush her teeth. From the depths of her purse, she fished out a pack of spearmint-flavored gum and hastily pushed a piece in her mouth. As the sedan swerved onto the road and drove away from the hotel, Cam spent a moment centering herself. She felt discombobulated and out of sorts, especially after being startled awake by the banging on her door.

  Aside from that, she loathed being late. Hated it with a passion. The impression she must be giving Maximo was surely lacking, to say the least.

  The impression he was giving her, however, was nothing short of amazing. He looked casually hip in weathered jeans and a faded blue T-shirt that stretched taut across his chest and shoulders. The bulging muscles of his biceps were bisected by veins that ran all the way to his wrists. She had the strangest desire to reach over and trail her finger over the plump rise in his skin.

  It’s just business, she reminded herself. Stop lusting over the client.

  “Hungover?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “A little bit, yes. I could use some aspirin sooner or later,” she admitted. He hadn’t said anything about recognizing her name, which she assumed might happen anytime now. Max had to know about the interview. She expected displeasure once he discovered that she’d withheld her knowledge of his identity.

  “How about stopping to eat after we visit our first venue?” he asked.

  “Where are we going? I don’t mind waiting.” Cam was far more interested in the plans he apparently had.

  “The Colosseum first, then breakfast, and after that the Roman Forum. Did you bring a camera?”

  Dazzled by the iconic sites on his list, Cam smiled. The hangover hurt a lot less in light of their plans. “It all sounds . . . perfect. Yes, I brought my camera. No way am I going to miss taking pictures. Who knows when I’ll have a chance to return?”

  “We’ll visit a piazza or two, if you’d like, then I thought we could take a drive down to Naples and Pompeii,” he said.

  “Pompeii? Seriously?” Cam shifted in her seat, tilting her body more toward Max. Unless she’d missed her guess, his plans consisted of them spending most of the day together. Although she’d thought to prepare for her interview with him, there was no way she would pass up the opportunity he provided. “Of course I’d like to go.”

  “It won’t disrupt your business?” he asked.

  “Business can wait.”

  “Excellent. We’ll be at the Colosseum shortly.” He winked and looked out the window.

  Thrilled to the tips of her toes, Camryn pushed aside her concern over the interview and prepared to have the time of her life.

  Max saw Rome through a new set of eyes. Camryn’s natural joy of discovery and wonder forced him to toss aside his skeptical, jaded view of the world and simply appreciate the historic beauty of Italy. She fascinated him with her coos and croons at the Colosseum, where she’d paused to take a deep breath of ‘gladiator air.’ She seemed completely unaware of the security detail following at a discreet distance, or that he’d arranged for them to have a private hour of touring the site at sunrise before the gates were open to anyone else.

  He was doing his best to avoid the paparazzi, though he could only work so many miracles on such short notice.

  Max offered to take Camryn’s picture against the stunning backdrop of the ruins, and joined her for one or two shots, smiling—for once—into the lens. He found himself caught up in her excitement and wit, laughing more than he had in a long time. Her candid quips and jokes fell naturally and easily from her lips.

  They ate at a small café before visiting the Roman Forum, an outdoor array of decaying majestic temples, dirt pathways, impressive statues, and remnants of old shrines. She couldn’t seem to get enough of the architecture or the ambiance, and chatted endlessly about this ruin or that. He snapped her picture in front of towering columns, elegantly carved stone, and ancient walls covered in climbing vines.

  Thankfully, the tourists also wandering the expansive grounds were more interested in their surroundings than anything else. Max’s security team remained in the background, unobtrusive and out of the way.

  From there he took her to the Piazza Venezia, an impressive structure in white with many columns and carved statues. More aware of the crowds here than in the Forum, Max hid behind his sunglasses and attempted to be as inconspicuous as possible. He posed for two pictures with Camryn, then ushered her back to the waiting sedan.

  When his phone vibrated for the eighth time that morning, Maximo again ignored it. He didn’t want to deal with agents and publicists while he was on vacation. At least not while he was experiencing the rare pleasure of going unnoticed in public.

  Later there would be time enough to check messages and return calls.

  For now, he returned his attention to Camryn, who was turning out to be quite the amusing, vibrant companion.

  As the car sped onto the highway, he decided to press his luck a little more.

  “So tell me, what is it you do for a living?”

  Six

  What is it you do for a living? The words yanked Camryn right out of her blissful sightseeing haze. Thus far, the day had gone about as perfectly as Cam could imagine or hope for, and she wasn’t ready to ruin the mood. Maximo was an excellent companion; the longer she was with him, the more she wanted to be with him.

  This wasn’t the way she’d expected things to go, not at all. Touring Rome, Naples, and Pompeii with a megastar hadn’t blipped on her radar when she’d agreed to meet up with Max in Italy. It was fun and liberating and exciting. Although she’d recognized the security hovering in the periphery all day, the detail hadn’t bothered her. It was smart of Max to take precautions, because she’d witnessed firsthand the chaos that could erupt when fans and paparazzi collided with a superstar. Clothes got torn, hair got pulled, and sometimes the celebrity ended up on the ground.

  Now she had a choice: lie, or tell him the truth and possibly wreck everything. He might be so mad he wouldn’t show up for the interview. And if she lied, he might walk out on her tomorrow the moment he saw her face and realized she’d deceived him.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if he ordered the driver to turn the car around and head straight back to the hotel either, bringing their tour to an abrupt end.

  “I’m a researcher and a writer.” Cam chose a version of the truth. Not quite the whole truth, but not a lie. Because she didn’t want him to query too deeply into what type of a writer, thus possibly forcing her to lie outright, she quickly changed the subject. “I’m curious. Do you own a home here?”

  “Really. What kind of things do you research?” he asked. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about purchasing a vacation home here. But I don’t own one at the moment. I live and work in the States, where I was born.”

  Cam tried not to groan. So much for distracting him. After a moment of thought, she came up with a plan. “I’ll make you a deal. If you eat three plates of food tomorrow night at dinner, I’ll give you all the details.”

  Max laughed. “Is that your subtle way of asking me out?”

  “Is that your subtle way of accepting?” she countered, grinning.

  “It might be.”

  “You’re either all in or all out,” she said, admiring the dimple in his whiskered cheek. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but could easily imagine the glimmer of am
usement. Max had expressive eyes.

  “Then count me all in. Three plates of food for your intimate details.” He extended a long-fingered hand, apparently wanting to shake on it.

  “You make that sound so much dirtier than it is,” she said with a laugh. Cam slid her palm into his and shook. His skin was warm, the pads at the base of his fingers slightly callused. She liked the contrast of how masculine his hand looked engulfing her smaller, daintier one. “We have a deal.”

  “I can show you dirty.” He tilted his chin down and winked at her over the top of his sunglasses.

  Cam withdrew her hand and laughed again. “So about your house—or lack of a house—where in Italy do you think you’ll buy?”

  “Nice diversion,” he said.

  “I try.” Cam injected an airy, teasing lilt to the words. Her palm tingled in the aftermath of the handshake. What would he think when he saw her at the interview? Cam couldn’t get a good bead on what Max might do or say. She found it more than a little unsettling after all the fun she was having.

  And she suspected Max was having a good time, too.

  “There are a few places I’m interested in. The countryside between Rome and Naples is beautiful, though I also like several beachfront cities. I guess it’ll just depend what I want or what I like when I actually go looking,” he said.

  “I bet the coastline is gorgeous.”

  “You’ll get to see more of it on the way back. We’ll take a route closer to the water, if you’d like.” He seemed to study her as he spoke.

  “I think that would be excellent. Since we’re so close already.”

  “Maybe even stop along the way and have dinner. Do I get to know your intimate details if I eat three plates tonight?” he asked, lips twitching.

  Cam wagged a no-no finger at Max. “We already made a deal. Tomorrow night’s dinner, or no information at all.”