Far too abruptly, Ben thrust her away from him. Olivia looked shocked, her mouth a little swollen, her hair damp and curling in the rain. A reporter wolf whistled, and furious with both her and himself, Ben stalked to the limo without waiting to see if she followed.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MAN COULD KISS. That wildness that Olivia had suspected hid under his controlled exterior? She’d just had a taste of it, and it had left her mind whirling and her lips—and other parts of her body—throbbing.
Bemused, Olivia followed Ben towards the limo. She barely heard the shouts of the reporters, or saw the flashbulbs going off.
She’d never been kissed like that before. She’d hardly been kissed at all.
Not, of course, that she was going to tell Ben that.
But it had been some kiss. And one she’d wanted, had been thinking about all night. Even longer, if she were honest with herself. And when the reporters had asked for a kiss...well, Olivia hadn’t been about to say no. She’d wanted to kiss him too much, and the request was no more than an excuse to touch him. Taste him.
And he’d tasted good.
She slid into the limo, saw that Ben was sitting on the far side, his face turned determinedly towards the window.
Olivia thought about making some wry comment about the kiss, joking about it even, but she couldn’t quite make herself do it. The kiss had been wonderful, but the way he’d thrust her away from him afterwards...
Well, that had been a little ego-bruising. She wasn’t sure why he’d done it, and she’d didn’t think she could pull off the breezy confidence to ask. Not when she had so little experience with kisses, and especially kisses like that.
They didn’t talk for the ten minutes it took to get back to The Chatsfield, which just made everything more awkward. But the moment had passed for Olivia to make some light joke, and now if she mentioned the kiss it would sound cringingly rehearsed and serious, as if she cared too much. Maybe she should just let it go, and the next time they saw each other things would be normal.
Whatever that looked like.
A bellhop opened the door as the limo pulled up outside The Chatsfield. Ben slid out first, but at least had the grace to wait for Olivia to exit the car.
‘So,’ she said as they came into the art-nouveau lobby with its lashings of marble and gilt. People bustled around them and she could hear the tinkling of piano music from the bar, the muted ping of the elevator doors opening and closing.
‘So.’ Ben thrust his hands in his pockets, his gaze not meeting hers. ‘Let me know when you next need me. A party, you said, right?’
‘Or we could go out to dinner.’ Although the idea of spending several hours alone with him made her feel queasy with both nerves and anticipation. It could be all kinds of awkward...and yet she knew she wanted to see him again. Kiss him again.
‘Whatever. Just leave a message with my PA if you can’t reach me.’ And without a backwards glance, he strode away from her towards his office.
Okay. Olivia stood there for a moment, knowing it was silly to feel dismissed or even rejected, and yet feeling it all the same.
This isn’t real, Olivia? Remember?
Of course she remembered. She’d dated two aspiring actors before, as her agent Melissa had suggested she do, and those relationships had been as fake as this one. They’d met up for dinner or drinks to keep reporters interested and their names known. They hadn’t loved or even liked each other. It had been, Olivia acknowledged, a simple matter of expediency.
Just like this thing with Ben was.
Except, she realised as she headed up to her suite, she’d actually enjoyed herself with Ben tonight. He’d made her laugh and he’d helped her to relax. He’d listened to her and when he’d kissed her...
Okay, maybe she should stop thinking about that. Because obviously this thing with Ben was going nowhere. He was a Chatsfield, she was a Harrington. She was pretty sure, tonight aside, he didn’t really like her. And she wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone anyway. She had her career to think about and she’d already resolved not to have any serious relationships. She simply didn’t trust herself enough for one.
As for casual...as tempting as a fling might be, she had a feeling Ben Chatsfield would chew her up, and then spit her out. She wasn’t experienced enough to handle a fling with a man like him.
But she might convince herself she was if it meant he’d kiss her again.
With a weary sigh Olivia stripped off her silver dress and ran a huge bubble bath. She’d need all her energy for the run of festival events tomorrow. A charity lunch, an afternoon premiere of a documentary, a cocktail party in the evening. She needed to be on, on, on, which was how she liked it.