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A Night in the Prince's Bed - Шантель Шоу - Читать любовный роман онлайн в женской библиотеке LadyLib.Net
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Шоу Шантель
A Night in the Prince's Bed
Аннотация к произведению A Night in the Prince's Bed - Шантель Шоу
Actions speak louder than words!Beautiful Mina Hart has overcome her hearing impairment to become a leading theatre actress. But one stolen night with a gorgeous stranger turns into headline news when it’s revealed he is the Prince of Storvhal.Devastated when he accuses her of using him for publicity, Mina travels to his icy Scandinavian country to proclaim her innocence. But, hiding in his car, she falls asleep and wakes up at Prince Aksel’s private retreat!A heavy snowfall traps them, and now she must rely on her senses to read this haunted and intensely private Prince!Discover more at www.millsandboon.co.uk/chantelleshaw
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‘This is wrong.’ Aksel’s eyes rested on her slender figure and her rose-flushed face. ‘You should not have come to Storvhal.’
‘This is wrong.’ Aksel’s eyes rested on her slender figure and her rose-flushed face. ‘You should not have come to Storvhal.’
Mina felt sick as the realisation sank in that he was rejecting her. ‘Last night—’ she began. But he cut her off.
‘Last night was a mistake that I am not going to repeat.’
‘Why?’
Mina was unaware of the raw emotion in her voice, and Aksel schooled his features to hide the pang of guilt he felt.
She bit her lip. Her pride demanded that she should accept his rejection and try to salvage a little of her dignity, but she did not understand why he had suddenly backed off. ‘Is it because I’m deaf? You desired me when you didn’t know about my hearing loss,’ she reminded him when he frowned. ‘What else am I supposed to blame for your sudden change of heart?’
‘My heart was never involved,’ he said bluntly. ‘Learning of your hearing impairment is not the reason why I can’t have sex with you again.’
‘Then what is the reason?’ The frustration Mina had felt as a child when she had first lost her hearing surged through her again now. She wished she could hear Aksel. It wasn’t that she had a problem reading his lips, but not being able to hear his voice made her feel that there was a wide gulf between them.
‘I can’t have an affair with you. I am the Prince of Storvhal, and my loyalty and duty must be to my country.’
CHANTELLE SHAW lives on the Kent coast, five minutes from the sea, and does much of her thinking about the characters in her books while walking on the beach. An avid reader from an early age, her schoolfriends used to hide their books when she visited—but Chantelle would retreat into her own world, and still writes stories in her head all the time.
Chantelle has been blissfully married to her own tall, dark and very patient hero for over twenty years and has six children. She began to read Harlequin Mills & Boon® romances as a teenager, and throughout the years of being a stay-at-home mum to her brood found romantic fiction helped her to stay sane!
Her aim is to write books that provide an element of escapism, fun, and of course romance for the countless women who juggle work and home-life and who need their precious moments of ‘me’ time. She enjoys reading and writing about strong-willed, feisty women and even stronger-willed sexy heroes. Chantelle is at her happiest when writing. She is particularly inspired while cooking dinner, which unfortunately results in a lot of culinary disasters! She also loves gardening, taking her very badly behaved terrier for walks and eating chocolate (followed by more walking … at least the dog is slim!).
Chantelle is on Facebook and would love you to drop by and say hello.
A Night in the Prince’s Bed
Chantelle Shaw
Contents
HE WAS HERE. Again.
Mina had told herself that she would not look for him, but as she stepped out from the wings her eyes darted to the audience thronged in the standing area in front of the stage, and her heart gave a jolt when she saw him.
The unique design of Shakespeare’s Globe on London’s South Bank meant that the actors on stage could see the individual faces of the audience. The theatre was a modern reconstruction of the famous Elizabethan playhouse, an amphitheatre with an open roof, above which the sky was now turning to indigo as dusk gathered. To try to recreate the atmosphere of the original theatre, minimal lighting was used, and without the glare of footlights Mina could clearly see the man’s chiselled features; his razor-edged cheekbones and resolute jaw shaded with stubble that exacerbated his raw masculinity.
His mouth was unsmiling, almost stern, yet his lips held a sensual promise that Mina found intriguing. From the stage she could not make out the colour of his eyes, but she noted the lighter streaks in his dark blond hair. He was wearing the same black leather jacket he had worn on the three previous evenings, and he was so devastatingly sexy that Mina could not tear her eyes from him.
She was curious about why he was in the audience again. It was true that Joshua Hart’s directorial debut of William Shakespeare’s iconic love story Romeo and Juliet had received rave reviews, but why would anyone choose to stand for two and a half hours to watch the same play for three evenings in a row? Maybe he couldn’t afford a seat in one of the galleries, she mused. Tickets for the standing area—known as the yard—were inexpensive and popular, providing the best view of the stage and offering a unique sense of intimacy between the audience and the actors.
Mina tried to look away from him, but her head turned in his direction of its own accord, as if she were a puppet and he had pulled one of her strings. He was staring at her, and the intensity of his gaze stole her breath. Everything faded—the audience and the members of the cast on stage with her—and she was only aware of him.
On the periphery of her consciousness Mina became aware of the lengthening silence. She sensed the growing tension of the actors around her and realised that they were waiting for her to speak. Her mind went blank. She stared at the audience and sickening fear churned in her stomach as she registered the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring back at her.
Oh, God! Stage-fright was an actor’s worst nightmare. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and sweat beaded on her brow. Instinctively she raised her hands to her ears to check that her hearing aids were in place.
‘Focus, Mina!’ A fierce whisper from one of the other actors dragged her from the brink of panic. Her brain clicked into gear and, snatching a breath, she delivered her first line.
‘“How now, who calls?”’
Kat Nichols, who was playing the role of Nurse, let out an audible sigh of relief.
‘“Your mother.”’
‘“Madam, I am here. What is your will?”’
The actress playing Lady Capulet stepped forward to speak her lines, and the conversation between Lady Capulet and the Nurse allowed Mina a few seconds to compose herself. Her hesitation had been brief and she prayed that the audience had been unaware of her lapse in concentration. But Joshua would not have missed it. The play’s director was standing in the wings and even without glancing at him Mina sensed his irritation. Joshua Hart demanded perfection from every member of the cast, but especially from his daughter.
Mina knew she had ignored one of acting’s golden rules when she had broken the ‘fourth wall’—the imaginary wall between the actors on stage and the audience. For a few moments she had stepped out of character of the teenage Juliet and given the audience a glimpse of her true self—Mina Hart, a twenty-five year-old partially deaf actress.
It was unlikely that anyone in the audience was aware of her hearing impairment. Few people outside the circle of her family and close friends knew that as a result of contracting meningitis when she was eight she had been left with serious hearing loss. The digital hearing aids she wore were small enough to fit discreetly inside her ears and were hidden by her long hair. The latest designed aids enabled her to have a telephone conversation and listen to music. Sometimes she could almost forget how lonely and cut off she had felt as a deaf child who had struggled to cope in a world that overnight had become silent.
Although Mina had complete confidence in her hearing aids, old habits remained. She was an expert at lip-reading and from instinct rather than necessity she watched Lady Capulet’s lips move as she spoke.
‘“Tell me, daughter Juliet, how stands your dispositions to be married?”’
The exquisite poetry of Shakespeare’s prose was music to Mina’s ears and touched her soul. Reality slipped away. She was not an actress, she was Juliet, a maid of not yet fourteen who was expected to marry a man of her parents’ choosing, a girl on the brink of womanhood who was not free to fall in love, unaware that by the end of the night she would have lost her heart irrevocably to Romeo.
Speaking in a clear voice, Juliet replied to her mother.
‘“It is an honour that I dream not of.”’
The play continued without further hitches, but in one corner of her mind Mina was aware that the man in the audience didn’t take his eyes off her.
* * *
Shakespeare’s tale of star-crossed lovers was drawing to its tragic conclusion. After standing for more than two hours, Prince Aksel Thoresen’s legs were beginning to ache, but he barely registered the discomfort. His eyes were riveted on the stage, as Juliet, kneeling by her dead husband Romeo, picked up a dagger and plunged the blade into her heart.
A collective sigh from the audience rippled around the theatre like a mournful breeze. Everyone knew how the ill-fated love story ended, but as Juliet’s lifeless form slumped across the body of her lover Aksel felt a sudden constriction in his throat. All the members of the cast were skilled actors, but Mina Hart, who played Juliet, was outstanding. Her vivid and emotive portrayal of a young woman falling in love was electrifying.
Aksel’s decision to visit Shakespeare’s Globe three nights ago had been at the end of another frustrating day of discussions between the governing council of Storvhal and British government ministers. Storvhal was a principality stretching above Norway and Russia in the Arctic Circle. The country had been governed by the Thoresen royal dynasty for eight hundred years, and Aksel, as monarch and head of state, had supreme authority over his elected council of government. It was a position of great privilege and responsibility that he had shouldered since the death of his father, Prince Geir. He had never admitted to anyone that sometimes the role that had been his destiny from birth felt like a burden.
His visit to London had been to discuss proposals for a new trade agreement between Britain and Storvhal, but negotiations had been hampered by endless red tape. A trip to the theatre had seemed a good way to unwind, away from the rounds of diplomatic talks. He had certainly not expected that he would develop a fascination with the play’s leading actress.
The play ended, and as the actors walked onto the stage and bowed to the audience Aksel could not tear his eyes from Mina. This was the last evening that the play would be performed at the Globe. It was also his last night in London. Having finally secured a trade agreement with the UK, tomorrow he was returning to Storvhal and his royal duties, which, as his grandmother constantly reminded him, meant that he must choose a suitable bride to be his princess and produce an heir.
‘It is your duty to ensure the continuation of the Thoresen royal dynasty,’ Princess Eldrun had insisted in a surprisingly fierce voice for a woman of ninety who had recently been seriously ill with pneumonia. ‘It is my greatest wish to see you married before I die.’
Emotional blackmail from anyone else would have left Aksel unmoved. From childhood it had been impressed on him that duty and responsibility took precedence over his personal feelings. Only once had he allowed his heart to rule his head. He had been in his twenties when he had fallen in love with a beautiful Russian model, but the discovery that Karena had betrayed him was only one of the reasons why he had built an impenetrable wall around his emotions.
His grandmother was the single chink in his armour. Princess Eldrun had helped her husband, Prince Fredrik, to rule Storvhal for fifty years and Aksel had immense respect for her. When she had fallen ill and the doctors had warned him to prepare for the worst he had realised just how much he valued her wise counsel. But even for his grandmother’s sake Aksel was not going to rush into marriage. He would choose a bride when he was ready, but it would not be a love match. Being Prince of Storvhal allowed Aksel many privileges but falling in love was not one of them, just as it had not been for his Viking ancestors.
Perhaps it was the knowledge that his grandmother’s health was failing that had caused his uncharacteristic emotional response to the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, he brooded. Today was the twelfth anniversary of when his father had been killed in a helicopter crash in Monaco—the playground of the rich and famous where Prince Geir had spent most of his time—to the dismay of the Storvhalian people. In contrast to his father Aksel had devoted himself to affairs of state and slowly won back support for the monarchy, but his popularity came with a price.
In Storvhal he could rarely escape the limelight. The media watched him closely, determined to report any sign of him becoming a party-loving playboy as his father had been. There would be no opportunities for him to go out alone as he had been able to do in London. If he went to the theatre he would have to sit in the royal box, in full view of everyone in the auditorium. He would not be able to stand unrecognised in a crowd and be moved almost to tears by the greatest love story ever told.
He stared at Mina Hart. The cast wore Renaissance costumes and she was dressed in a simple white gown made of gauzy material that skimmed her slender figure. Her long auburn hair framed her heart-shaped face and she looked innocent yet sensual. Aksel felt his body tauten with desire. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine what might happen if he were free to pursue her. But the inescapable truth was that his life was bound by duty. For the past three evenings he had escaped to a fantasy world, but now he must step back to reality.
This was the last time he would see Mina. He studied her face as if he could imprint her features on his memory, and felt a curious ache in his chest as he murmured beneath his breath, ‘Goodbye, sweet Juliet.’
* * *
‘Are you coming for a drink?’ Kat Nichols asked as she followed Mina out of the theatre. ‘Everyone’s meeting up at the Riverside Arms to celebrate the play’s successful run.’
Mina had planned to go straight home after the evening performance but she changed her mind when Kat gave a persuasive smile. ‘Okay, I’ll come for one drink. It’s strange to think that we won’t be appearing at the Globe any more.’
‘But maybe we’ll be appearing on Broadway soon.’ Kat gave Mina a sideways glance as they walked the short distance to the pub. ‘Everyone knows that your father has been in negotiations to take the production to New York. Has he said anything to you about what’s going to happen?’
Mina shook her head. ‘I know everyone thinks Joshua confides in me because I’m his daughter, but he doesn’t treat me any differently from the rest of the cast. I had to audition three times for the role of Juliet. Dad doesn’t give me any special favours.’
If anything, her father was tougher on her than other members of the cast, Mina thought ruefully. Joshua Hart was himself a brilliant actor, and a demanding perfectionist. He was not the easiest man to get on with, and Mina’s relationship with him had been strained since the events that had happened while she had been filming in America had led Joshua to accuse her of bringing the Hart name into disrepute.
Kat was not deterred. ‘Just imagine if we do appear on Broadway! It would be a fantastic career opportunity. You never know, we might even get spotted by a top film director and whisked off to LA.’
‘Take it from me, LA isn’t so wonderful,’ Mina said drily.
Kat gave her a close look. ‘I’ve heard rumours, but what did actually happen when you went to America to make a film?’
Mina hesitated. She had become good friends with Kat, but even so she could not bear to talk about the darkest period of her life. Her memories of the film director Dexter Price were still painful two years after their relationship had ended in a storm of newspaper headlines. She couldn’t believe she had been such a gullible fool to have fallen in love with Dex, but she had been alone in LA for her first major film role—young, naïve, and desperately insecure about her hearing impairment. The American film industry demanded perfection, and she had felt acutely conscious of her disability.
She had been grateful for Dexter’s reassurance, and within a short time she had fallen for his blend of sophistication and easy charm. Looking back, Mina wondered if one reason why she had been drawn to Dex was because he had reminded her of her father. Both were powerful men who were highly regarded in the acting world, and Dex had given her the support she had always craved from Joshua Hart. When Mina had found out that Dex had lied to her it was not only his betrayal that had left her heartbroken, but the fact that once again her father had failed to support her when she had needed him.
‘Mina?’
Kat’s voice jolted Mina from her thoughts. She gave her friend an apologetic smile as they reached the pub and she opened the door. ‘I’ll tell you about it another time.’
The pub was busy and fortunately the din of voices was too loud for Kat to pursue the subject. Mina spotted some of the play’s cast sitting at a nearby table. ‘I’ll get the first round,’ she told Kat. ‘Save me a seat.’
As she fought her way to the bar Mina decided she would have one drink and then leave. The noisy pub made her feel disorientated and she longed for the peace and quiet of her flat. She suspected that there were a few journalists amongst the crowd. Rumours that Joshua Hart’s production of Romeo and Juliet might go to New York were circulating, and for the past week the paparazzi had been hanging about the theatre hoping for a scoop.
Mina squeezed through the crowd of people gathered in front of the bar and tried to catch the barman’s eye. ‘Excuse me!’
The barman walked straight past her and she wondered if he hadn’t heard her. The loud background noise inside the pub made it difficult for her to hear her own voice and so regulate how loud or softly she spoke. Moments later the same thing happened again when another barman ignored her and went to serve someone else. It was situations like this that made her conscious of her hearing impairment. Her hearing aids worked incredibly well, but as the bar staff continued to take no notice of her she felt a resurgence of her old insecurities about her deafness. She felt invisible, even though she could see herself in the mirror behind the bar.
As she watched her reflection a figure appeared at her shoulder. Mina tensed as she met his gaze in the mirror and her heart slammed against her ribs as she recognised him. It was him—the man who had been in the audience—and close up he was even more gorgeous than she’d thought when she had seen him from the stage.
His eyes were a brilliant topaz-blue, glittering like gemstones beneath his well-defined brows that were a shade darker than his streaked blond hair. When Mina had seen him at the theatre the firm line of his mouth had looked forbidding, but as she watched him in the mirror he gave her a smoulderingly sexy smile that made her catch her breath.
‘Perhaps I can be of assistance?’
The gravelly huskiness of his voice caused the tiny hairs on the back of Mina’s neck to stand on end. She could not place his accent. Slowly she turned to face him, conscious that her pulse was racing.
‘One advantage of my height is that I can usually attract the attention of bar staff,’ he murmured. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
His stunning looks and sheer magnetism ensured that he would never be ignored. Mina flushed when she realised that she was staring at him. ‘Actually, I’m trying to order drinks for my friends...but thanks for the offer.’
Her voice trailed off as her eyes locked with his. She could feel the vibration of her blood pounding in her ears as she studied his lean, handsome face. He was ruggedly male and utterly beautiful. Was this how Juliet had felt when she had first set eyes on Romeo? Mina wondered. In her character study of the role of Juliet she had tried to imagine how it felt to be a teenage girl who had fallen desperately in love at first sight with a young man. It had been more difficult than Mina had expected to step into Juliet’s shoes. Could you really feel such intense emotion for someone you had just met, before you had got to know them?
Her common sense had rejected the idea. The story of Romeo and Juliet was just a fantasy. But now, in a heartbeat, Mina understood that it was possible to feel an overwhelming connection with a stranger. Even more startling was her certainty that the man felt it too. His eyes narrowed on her face and his body tensed like a jungle cat watching its prey.
Someone pushed past her on their way to the bar and knocked her against the stranger. Her breasts brushed his chest and an electrical current shot through her. Every nerve ending tingled and her nipples instantly hardened and throbbed. For a few seconds she felt dizzy as the heat of his body and the spicy scent of his aftershave hijacked her senses and filled her with a fierce yearning that pooled hot and molten in the pit of her stomach.
With a little gasp she jerked away from him. He was watching her intently, as if he could read her mind. In a desperate attempt to return to normality, she blurted out, ‘You were at the theatre tonight. I saw you. Did you enjoy the play?’
His bright blue eyes burned into her. ‘You were— astonishing.’
He spoke in a low, intense voice, and Mina was startled to see colour flare briefly along his sharp cheekbones. She had the impression that he had intended to make a casual response to her question but the words had escaped his lips before he could prevent them.
Thinking about his lips was fatal. Her eyes focused on the sensual curve of his mouth and her breath caught in her throat.
‘You came last night, too...and the night before that,’ she said huskily.
‘I couldn’t keep away.’ He stared deeply into her eyes, trapping her with his sensual magic so that Mina could not look away from him. Weakness washed over her and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She swayed towards him, unable to control her body’s response to the invisible lure of male pheromones and sizzling sexual chemistry.
A bemused expression crossed the man’s face and he shook his head as if he was trying to snap back to reality. He pulled a hand through his dark blond hair, raking it back from his brow.
‘Tell me what your friends want to drink and I’ll place your order.’
Friends? The spell broke and Mina glanced around the busy pub. Somehow she gathered her thoughts and reeled off a list of drinks. The stranger had no trouble catching the attention of the bar staff and minutes later Mina paid for the round and wondered how she was going to carry a tray of drinks across the crowded room.
Once again the stranger came to her rescue and picked up the tray. ‘I’ll carry this. Show me where your friends are sitting.’
Kat’s eyes widened when she spotted Mina approaching the table followed by a tall, fair-haired man who resembled a Viking. The stranger put the tray of drinks down on the table and Mina wondered if she should invite him to join her and her friends. She wished Kat would stop staring at him.
‘Thanks for your help. I’m Mina, by the way.’ Worried that she might not hear him in the noisy pub, she watched his mouth closely so that she could read his lips.
Amusement flashed in his blue eyes. ‘I know. Your name was on the theatre programme.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Aksel.’
‘That’s not an English name,’ Mina murmured, trying not to think about the firm grip of his fingers as she placed her hand in his. The touch of his skin on hers sent a tingling sensation up her arm and she felt strangely reluctant to withdraw her hand again.
He hesitated fractionally before replying, ‘You’re right. I am from Storvhal.’
‘That’s near Russia, isn’t it—in the Arctic Circle?’
His brows lifted. ‘I’m impressed. Storvhal is a very small country and most people haven’t a clue where it is.’
‘I’m addicted to playing general knowledge quizzes,’ Mina admitted. ‘The location of Storvhal often comes up.’
God, did that make her sound like a boring nerd who spent a lot of time on her own? People often assumed that actors led exciting and glamorous lives, but that was far from the truth, Mina thought wryly. There had been plenty of times when she’d been between acting roles and had to take cleaning jobs or stack shelves in a supermarket. Most actors, unless they made it big in the American film industry, struggled to earn a good living. But Mina was not driven by money and had been drawn to the stage because acting was in her blood.
The Harts were a renowned theatrical family, headed by Joshua Hart, who was regarded as the greatest Shakespearean actor of the past thirty years. Mina had wanted to be an actress since she was a small child and she had refused to allow her hearing loss to destroy her dream. But the dream had turned sour in LA. Making a film there had been an eye-opener and she had hated the celebrity culture, the gossip and backbiting. The events in LA had had a profound effect on her and when she had returned to England she had re-evaluated what she wanted to do with her life, and she had recently qualified as a drama therapist.
One thing she was certain of was that she never wanted her private life to be splashed across the front pages of the tabloids ever again. It still made her shudder when she remembered the humiliation of reading explicit and inaccurate details about her relationship with Dexter Price in the newspapers. The paparazzi did not seem to care about reporting the truth, and Mina had been a target of their ruthless desire for scandal. She had developed a deep mistrust of the press—and in particular of the man she had just spotted entering the pub.
She froze when she recognised him. Steve Garratt was the journalist who had exposed her affair with Dexter. Garratt had written a scurrilous article in which he had accused Mina of sleeping with the film director to further her career while Dexter’s wife had been undergoing treatment for cancer. Most of the article had been untrue. Mina had never been to bed with Dex—although she had been in love with him, and ready to take the next step in their relationship, before she had discovered that he was married. But no one had been interested in her side of the story, certainly not Steve Garratt.
What was Garratt doing here in the UK? It was unlikely to be a coincidence that he had turned up at the same time as rumours were rife that Joshua Hart’s production of Romeo and Juliet might be performed on Broadway. Garratt was after a story and Mina’s heart sank when the journalist looked over in her direction and gave her a cocky smile of recognition.
As he began to thread his way across the pub she felt a surge of panic. She could not bear the embarrassment of the journalist talking about the LA scandal in front of her friends from the theatre company. The story had been mostly forgotten after two years, and she had hoped it would remain dead and buried.
She glanced at the good-looking man who had introduced himself as Aksel. They were strangers, she reminded herself. The curious connection she felt with him must be a figment of her imagination.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you,’ she murmured. ‘Thanks for your help.’
Aksel realised he was being dismissed. It was a novel experience for a prince and in different circumstances he might have been amused, but inexplicably he felt a rush of jealousy when he noticed that Mina was staring at a man who had just entered the pub. Was the man her boyfriend? It was of no interest to him, he reminded himself. He was regretting his decision to follow Mina into the pub, and her obvious interest in the man who was now approaching them was a signal to Aksel that it was time he left.
‘You’re welcome.’ His eyes met hers, and for a split second he felt a crazy urge to grab hold of her hand and whisk her away from the crowded pub to somewhere they could be alone.
What the hell had got into him tonight? he asked himself irritably. His behaviour was completely out of character and he must end his ridiculous fascination with Mina Hart right now. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening,’ he bade her curtly, and strode out of the pub without glancing back at her.
* * *
‘Mina Hart, what a pleasant surprise!’ Steve Garratt drawled. He smelled of stale cigarette smoke and Mina wrinkled her nose as he leaned too close to her.
‘I find nothing pleasant about meeting you,’ she said coldly. ‘And I doubt you’re surprised to see me. You’re here for a reason, and I can guess what it is.’
The journalist grinned to reveal nicotine-stained teeth. It was warm inside the pub and his florid face was turning pinker. ‘A little bird told me you’ll soon be making your Broadway debut.’
‘Who told you that?’ Mina asked sharply. She glanced at his shifty expression and realised that he was hoping to goad her into giving him information.
‘Come on, sweetheart. Everyone wants to know if your father will be directing Romeo and Juliet in New York. He must have told you whether it’s going to happen. All the hacks are hoping to break the story. Give me an exclusive and I’ll make sure you get good reviews if you do open on Broadway.’
‘Joshua hasn’t told me anything, but even if he had confided in me I wouldn’t tell you. You’re a weasel, Garratt. You nose around in people’s private lives looking for scandal and if none exist you make up lies—like you did to me.’ Mina broke off, breathing hard as she struggled to control her temper.
The journalist gave a cynical laugh. ‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Don’t give me that bull about journalists respecting celebrities’ private lives. Actors need publicity. You don’t really believe that a film starring an unknown English actress would have been a box-office success on its own merits, do you? People went to see Girl in the Mirror because they were curious about the bimbo who screwed Dexter Price.’
Steve Garratt’s mocking words made Mina’s stomach churn. The pub felt claustrophobic and she was suddenly desperate for some fresh air. She pushed past the journalist, unable to bear being in his company for another second. ‘You disgust me,’ she told him bitterly.
Kat was chatting with the other members of the cast and Mina did not interrupt them. They would guess she had gone home, she told herself as she made her way across the crowded pub towards the door. Outside, it was dark. The October nights were drawing in and Mina’s lightweight jacket did not offer much protection against the chilly wind. Head bowed, she walked briskly along the pavement that ran alongside the river. The reflection of the street lights made golden orbs on the black water, but soon she turned off the well-lit main road down a narrow alleyway that provided the quickest route to the tube station.
Her footsteps echoed loudly in the enclosed space. It wasn’t late, but there was no one around, except for a gang of youths who were loitering at the other end of the alleyway. From the sound of their raucous voices Mina guessed they had been drinking. She thought about turning back and going the long route to the station, but she was tired and, having grown up in central London, she considered herself fairly streetwise. Keeping her head down, she continued walking, but as she drew nearer to the gang she noticed they were passing something between them and guessed it was a joint.
Her warning instincts flared. Something about the youths’ body language told her that they were waiting for her to walk to the far end of the alley. She stopped abruptly and turned round, but as she hurriedly retraced her steps the gang followed her.
‘Hey, pretty woman, why don’t you want to walk this way?’ one of them called out.
Another youth laughed. ‘There’s a film called Pretty Woman, about a slag who makes a living on the streets.’ The owner of the voice, a skinhead with a tattoo on his neck, caught up with Mina and stood in front of her so that she was forced to stop walking. ‘Is that what you do—sell your body? How much do you charge?’ As the gang crowded around Mina the skinhead laughed. ‘Do you do a discount for group sex?’
Mina swallowed, trying not to show that she was scared. ‘Look, I don’t want any trouble.’ She took a step forwards and froze when the skinhead gripped her arm. ‘Let go of me,’ she demanded, sounding more confident than she felt.
‘What if I don’t want to let go of you?’ the skinhead taunted. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ He slid his hand inside Mina’s jacket and she felt a surge of fear and revulsion when he tugged her shirt buttons open. The situation was rapidly spiralling out of control. The youths were drunk, or high—probably both—and on a cold autumn night it was unlikely that anyone was around to help her.
‘You’d better let me go. I’m meeting someone, and if I don’t show up they’ll start looking for me,’ she improvised, thinking as she spoke that her friends at the pub would assume she had gone home.
The skinhead must have sensed that she was bluffing. ‘So, where’s your friend?’
‘Here,’ said a soft, menacing voice.
Mina’s gaze shot to the end of the alleyway that she had entered a few minutes earlier and her heart did a somersault in her chest. The light from the street lamp behind him made his blond hair look like a halo. Surely no angel could be so devastatingly sexy, but to Mina, scared out of her wits, he was her guardian angel, her saviour.
The skinhead, surprised by the interruption, had loosed his grip on her arm, and Mina wrenched herself free.
‘Aksel,’ she said on a half-sob, and ran towards him.
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