Sophie Pembroke - Wedding Promises

Well. Eloise might have fallen for it when she was sixteen. But she wasn’t sixteen any longer.

‘Actually, she did suggest it might be a possibility so I’ve got a very special room put aside for Riley in the hotel, just in case he needed it.’

Riley looked impressed. Melissa looked murderous. Eloise smiled serenely and moved past them both to unlock the door to the Gatehouse.

‘Now, how about we take a look at where you’ll be spending your first night as man and wife?’ she said. Then she could get onto building an extra hotel suite for Riley. There had to be a solution somewhere. She just hadn’t thought of it yet.

Even Melissa had to be impressed by the Gatehouse Suite, and Riley’s eyes were huge as Eloise gave them the tour. Morwen Hall was a luxury hotel from top to bottom but the Gatehouse kicked that luxury up a notch further. The stone building had been completely renovated—walls had been knocked through to turn what had been a small family home into a spacious suite for two. Downstairs was laid out as an open-plan living area, with a small kitchen counter running along one side. It wasn’t a functioning kitchen—that wasn’t what guests needed here. Instead, it had a small fridge filled with champagne and another stuffed with high-end chocolates, caviar and other delicious treats. A top of the range coffee machine with quality china fulfilled guests’ caffeine needs, and an extensive menu was available twenty-four hours from direct dial to the front desk.

Downstairs was, Eloise thought proudly, impressive. But upstairs blew it away.

The four-poster bed that dominated the room was larger even than the one that had rendered Noah speechless. The bed linens were snowy white Egyptian cotton, with luxurious touches in jewel-coloured satin and silk accessories. The large bay window—complete with cushioned window seat—looked out over the river, and the en suite bathroom featured both an ultra-modern shower for two and an old-fashioned roll top bath.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Melissa admitted eventually. Then, apparently unable to resist criticising something, she added, ‘And I’m sure I’ll be fine, all the way out here.’

It’s two minutes from the hotel. Less if you don’t stop to grope your fiancé.

‘Well, I’ll make sure you have my room number,’ Riley said, wrapping an arm around Melissa’s waist and giving the four-poster a good, long look. ‘Just in case you need me to come down here and...save you.’

Rolling her eyes, Melissa pushed him away. ‘You and Eloise should go and find your room. I’m going to take advantage of that lovely bath.’

‘Right,’ Eloise said, thinking fast. ‘Your room. Just follow me!’

As they left Melissa to her bath, Eloise spotted the first of the guests’ cars pulling up the driveway. She was out of time, and all chaos was likely to break loose soon. And Riley still needed a room, even if she doubted he’d actually end up sleeping in it at all.

Mentally, she ran through the rooming list for the wedding in her head. After Noah’s, the next best room in the hotel had been earmarked for Riley’s brother, Dan. He wasn’t bringing a guest, so at least that would only be one person to rehouse. Plus his flight was the last one in, so that gave her more time to try and fix things. And if the worst came to the worst and she couldn’t magic another room from a no-show, or persuade Melissa to let Riley back into the Gatehouse, at least Dan and Riley might not be too horrified about having to share...

It was the best she could do for now. Decision made, Eloise covered the distance between the Gatehouse and Morwen Hall with large strides, leaving Riley trying to keep up. She’d show him to his room then get back down to supervise check-in. Laurel would be back to help—and provide much-needed moral support—before the welcome drinks.

And then all Eloise had to do was resist the considerable charms of Noah Cross for the evening.

How hard could that be?

Then she remembered Noah’s smile, and realised that there was a very real possibility that she might be doomed.

CHAPTER THREE

IN THE END, the nap had to wait.

Noah placed the script reverently on the bed in front of him and reached for his phone without ever looking away from the cover sheet. He didn’t want to break the magic spell the writing had cast over him before he spoke to his agent. He wanted to live in this feeling—in the brilliance and excitement of a perfect story. The way he felt he knew every one of the characters inside out as if he was the characters.

This film—this was the one he’d been waiting for.

He couldn’t remember being this excited about a part since... Well, since he’d first moved to LA with Sally.

Swallowing hard at the memory, he pushed it aside and punched the right combination on the screen to call Tessa, his agent.

‘I want this part,’ he said, the moment she picked up.

‘Noah?’ She sounded sleepy. Noah did a quick mental calculation of the time difference and winced. Then he decided that, since she was awake now anyway, he might as well continue.

‘Eight Days After,’ he said. ‘I want the part. The lead. None of this supporting actor stuff. I want the main attraction.’

‘Really?’ Tessa was awake now, if the pep in her voice was anything to go by. ‘You think you’re right for Marcus?’

‘Definitely,’ Noah replied, ignoring the surprise in her voice. ‘Trust me. They want me in that role. I will knock it out of the park.’ There was a pause on the other line, and Noah’s confidence took a slight dip. But not for long. He hadn’t got where he was by letting criticism knock him back. ‘What? What did they say about me? You might as well just tell me—you know I’ll hear it eventually anyway.’ That was how Hollywood gossip worked. Confidences were never kept, and secrets always got out. You just had to front it out and live with whatever people had to say about you, Noah had found. He just didn’t let the gibes and the comments get past his defences any more. They didn’t hurt if he didn’t let himself feel them.

‘Stefan, the director...he’s worried you might not have the, well, depth for the part.’

‘For Marcus?’

‘For the best friend part.’

Noah blinked. ‘The best friend has no depth. He’s basically there to lighten the mood so that no one slits their wrists in the movie theatres.’ If Stefan didn’t believe he could even pull off that part, Noah had a harder path to climb than even he’d anticipated.

‘Still. This is a very different movie to the sort you’ve been in before.’

‘Lately,’ Noah countered.

‘Since you became an actor anyone has heard of,’ Tessa shot back, and Noah winced. Had it really been that long since he’d made a film that mattered? He knew that it had. He’d not taken on a part with substance since he’d got his big break in a summer blockbuster.

So why now? Why this one?

Noah shook his head. It didn’t matter why. It only mattered that he get it. One way or another.

‘What will it take to convince him?’ he asked.

‘That you can play the best friend?’

‘No.’

Tessa sighed. ‘Look, Noah, I think they’ve already got someone in the frame for Marcus—and no, before you ask, I don’t know who. They’re being cagey, though, so that probably means someone big.’

‘Someone they’re not sure of, or they’d be telling everyone.’

‘Maybe. Why does this matter so much to you?’ Tessa asked. ‘I mean, you’ve been perfectly happy for years playing the big budget hero, the action guy or whatever.’

‘You mean as a more looks than talent kind of actor,’ Noah translated. He’d heard the talk as well as she had.

‘You said it, not me. But yeah. So what’s changed?’