Darcy in Hollywood

Shit.

Darcy cradled his head in his hands.

He really was screwed.

***

Elizabeth rushed away from the trailer, eager to put as much distance between it and her as possible. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

William Darcy just tried to kiss me.

He did kiss me.

For a moment she considered whether this was really happening. Yes, it was too real, too solid, too strange to be a dream or a fantasy or even a damn movie.

Now that she had established that, she didn’t know which was crazier: that he had kissed her or that she rejected him.

People’s Sexiest Man.

Had kissed her.

And she had pushed him away.

Told him she didn’t like him.

And ran out of his trailer.

Because he had invited her to a film premiere.

Of course, when I put it like that it sounds crazy.

It didn’t just sound crazy; it was crazy. There were thousands of women who would have killed to be in Elizabeth’s position, and she had turned him down.

Suddenly light-headed, Elizabeth sought out the nearest bench and dropped onto it at an awkward angle. She wasn’t even sure where she was on the studio lot, having walked as far and as fast from Darcy’s trailer as possible.

She waited to be attacked by pangs of regret and self-doubt. After all, a trip down the red carpet with William Darcy was definitely a grandchild-worthy story for her old age.

Nothing.

No regrets. No recriminations.

Yes, thousands of women would want to be in her position, which just made her wonder: Why couldn’t he have hit on one of them?

She buried her head in her hands, wishing she could somehow erase the last fifteen minutes from her memory banks. That had to have been the most awkward proposition in the history of romance.

Except for the kiss. The kiss had been hot. The kiss had been scorching.

Elizabeth actually wouldn’t mind kissing him again—if he were a nicer person. Which wasn’t going to happen, of course.

What a shame.

Just because of the kissing.

Caroline Bingley got to kiss him three times during In the Shadows, lucky woman. Not that Elizabeth cared.

It was rather a shame. They’d get along great if they just kissed and never uttered any words to each other. She enjoyed that fantasy for a few seconds.

Seriously? she chastised herself. Now I’m objectifying him?