Darcy in Hollywood

No doubt he couldn’t wait to rub this in her face and laugh at her. After all the words she’d hurled at him in the trailer—about how she didn’t even like him—she had ended up in his bedroom.

Time to get the hell out of there. Call an Uber and get gone.

First things first. The gown’s straps were all in the wrong places; if she lifted up the sheet, she’d be flashing the room. With some careful wriggling, Elizabeth managed to get the bodice and skirt back into the correct positions.

Now that she was decent, Elizabeth sat up. Aspirin and a large glass of water sat on the bedside table. She wasn’t too proud to take the pills or drink the water. Grudgingly she admitted that it was very thoughtful.

But thoughtful or not, it was time to get out. When Darcy woke, his gloating expression would only make her life more miserable. If she were quiet and fast, she could be gone before then. I don’t even know where I am. Hopefully still in the state of California. Well, the Uber driver could figure it out.

Gingerly, she planted her feet on the floor before slowly putting her weight on them. She swayed slightly, but her legs held. The room swung back and forth, but at least it wasn’t spinning like a top anymore.

Casting another glance at William, Elizabeth caught her breath. The man was always gorgeous, but asleep in bed…he was like a Greek god. Lying on his side with a hand curled under his chin, he looked very innocent, but the rest of his body belied that impression. The t-shirt did little to hide the sculpted muscles of his chest; the one arm visible to her was corded and firm.

But his face…free from his habitual broodiness was even more beautiful. She had never noticed the dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks. And no guy should have eyelashes that long. It was sinful.

Unable to tear her eyes away, Elizabeth stared for an indeterminate period of minutes…or weeks. Finally, Will shifted a little in his sleep, breaking the spell. I have to leave before he wakes up.

Grabbing her clutch off the bedroom floor, she tiptoed into the bathroom, taking a second to be amazed at the marble floors and counters. What would it be like to see this every day? Would it feel like living in a high-end hotel, or would you grow accustomed to it? Well, she would never know.

In the closet she discovered a wrapped toothbrush; using it helped her feel worlds more human. Rifling through her clutch, she found a hairband, which she used to pull her hair into a ponytail, and she reapplied her lipstick. The color was a bit strong for 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning, but she felt marginally more presentable, and it helped dispel the walk-of-shame vibe.

If only she had something else to wear.

Nothing to be done. Barefoot, she padded out into the bedroom. She would grab her pumps and—

William was sitting up in bed, watching her. God, he was gorgeous. If only he weren’t smirking like that. Don’t let him get to you, she warned herself. It’ll be bad. Let it roll off your back and get the hell out. Go somewhere you can lick your wounds in private.

She braced herself for awkwardness, or worse. “Thank you for…giving me a safe space to crash last night.” Continuing to move, she crossed the room to collect her pumps.

“My pleasure.” He smirked again. Ugh. Get me out of here.

“I’ll call an Uber and be out of your hair.” Okay, now would be the moment he would let loose with the caustic comments.

“Please don’t.”

She blinked in disbelief. Had she heard right? Had William Darcy just said please? “What?”

“Please don’t. At least let me ply you with coffee and breakfast before you leave. You’ll probably feel better.” His expression was so earnest.

Elizabeth wanted to refuse, but that would be churlish. He must have gone to considerable trouble to bring her here; the least she could do was spend an hour being pleasant to him. Howeve

r, the minute the snarky comments started flying, she was out of there. “Please,” he said again. “You take care of everyone else. Will you let someone take care of you for once?”

Her heart melted a little at his words. Was that how he saw her? That was quite…flattering. “All right, I’ll take some coffee. But I don’t think my stomach is ready for food just yet.”

Her reward was the sweetest, most unguarded smile she had ever seen. She hadn’t known William Darcy was capable of such an expression. “That’s okay. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

The kitchen could have been shot for a spread in Architectural Digest. Dark wood cabinets were set off by dark green marble countertops and gleaming stainless-steel appliances. The vibe was contemporary but with an old-world flair. The back wall of windows provided a glorious view that took advantage of the house’s spectacular location near the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean.

Standing at the window, Elizabeth could see waves crashing on the beach, but when she perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, nothing was visible save ocean and sky. They were silent as Darcy brewed coffee, poured cups for both of them, and then set them on the breakfast bar. Elizabeth poured cream from a little pitcher that probably wasn’t solid gold.

I might as well admit to my bad judgment before he starts in on me, she decided. “I made a fool out of myself last night. You don’t have to say it.”

But his gaze held no judgment. “That’s the last thing I was thinking. Your sister almost died, and you feel responsible. I’d probably need a drink or twenty under those circumstances, too.”

When tears pricked Elizabeth’s eyes, she quickly averted her gaze. Was it possible that he understood? That he understood the anger and guilt roiling inside her?

“Yeah.” She stirred more cream into her coffee to avoid looking at him. “I should have listened to your warnings.”