Starstruck Read Online Free PDF Page B

He
hurried off once again, vanishing behind the doors that led to the kitchen.
    “So, where were we?” Jesse asked.
    She opened her mouth to speak.
    “Oh that’s right,” he said, “back to your questions from
earlier. I believe your second question was whether I thought mixing drinks
with our meal was wise?” He grabbed the bottle of Beaujolais and shared the
small amount left in the bottle between their glasses.
    Surprise swirled a giddy circle in her stomach. She’d
forgotten about her earlier comments and was impressed he’d remembered.
    A man who actually listens!
    “Well I must admit, I was skeptical at the start, but I feel
fine at the moment. The truth will be told tomorrow morning, I guess, if I wake
up with a headache or not.”
    “Well if you do, don’t worry. I know the perfect remedy. The
boys in the band swear by my hangover concoction.”
    This was the first reference Jesse had made about what he
did for a living. She hadn’t really thought about how famous he was while they
spoke over dinner. He didn’t seem pretentious like she would’ve expected a man
of his status to be.
    Why is he talking as if we’ll still be together in the
morning? Does he think I’ll just jump straight into bed with him like a…a
starry-eyed groupie? Fat chance!
    The butterflies recommenced flight in her stomach as he took
a long, seductive sip from his wineglass, his eyes never leaving hers. She
picked up her own glass and did the same.
    “And from memory, your last question was…if I was trying to
get you drunk?”
    The lump in her throat didn’t let her last gulp of wine pass
readily. His eyes twinkled with mischief and a smile rose to his lips when she
shifted uneasily in her seat.
    “Sam…please don’t think me egotistical, but I’ve never had
to get a woman drunk to get her into my bed. Quite the opposite in fact,” he
whispered.
    With perfect timing, their waiter came bustling out of the
kitchen doors, carrying their dessert on a silver tray with two small glasses
of deep-red Port.
    “The Port is for after,” Jesse said, scooping some peach and
ice cream into his mouth.
    “I’m more worried about where I’ll be sleeping tonight. We’d
better finish up fast otherwise there won’t be any hotel rooms left.” She
looked down at her watch. It was already 8:22 p.m.
    He put his spoon down, reached into the front pocket of his
jeans and pulled out his phone. His thumb flew over the screen before he
brought the small cell to his ear. “Hi, Katherine, it’s Jesse. Is my room still
vacant? My flight’s been cancelled and it looks like you’re stuck with me for
another night.”
    Sam fumbled through her bag and withdrew her own phone. She
slid open the keypad, about to call directory assistance, when Jesse snatched
the cell out of her hands, snapped it shut and placed it next to his arm on the
table. Sam didn’t know whether to be angered by his behavior or not.
    He shook his head and smiled at her. “It is? Thanks, babe.
Ah, also…is it possible to book a second suite for a friend?” He tapped his
fingers gently on the table to an unknown beat. “Yes, that will be fine. I’ll
see you soon. Thanks, Kath.” He returned his phone to his pocket before picking
up his spoon to finish dessert. He passed her phone back across the table. “All
sorted. You have a place to sleep tonight.”
    “You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve found my own
accommodations.”
    “It’s no problem. The good people at the Marriott look after
me pretty well and the airport hotel will be fully booked by now. It’s always
the first to go when flights are grounded. Trust me, the amount of traveling I
do it pays to have connections in hotels.” He pushed his bowl aside and leaned
back in his chair just as the waiter returned to clear the table.
    “Will there be anything else this evening, sir?” The older
gentleman expertly balanced the dinnerware on one arm.
    Jesse fixed his eyes on her. “Just the check,