Undone by the Star by Stephanie Browning Page A

The Sadler Hotel was wearing a kick-ass skirt that stopped just short of her knees. Her long legs were bare, and her pink-painted toes peeked out at him from a pair of sandals. He’d never seen her toes before.
    Somewhere in the distance, he could hear his L.A. agent buzzing like a gnat.
    “I’ve brought dinner.” Alex tilted her head and smiled, eyes anxiously scanning his face.
    “Right.” Marc nodded. Of course, she had. Anticipating her clients’ every wish was motto number one – but since when did the hotel send senior staff on a delivery run, and why did she seem so apprehensive?
    “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” She shifted slightly and adjusted the hamper.
    “No, no.” He gave himself a shake. “I’ve been on the phone with a moron…and apparently, it’s catching.” He reached for the hamper. “Here, let me take that.” She was gripping it so tightly, he had to pry her fingers off the handles. Warmth shot through him as his hands slid over hers. “Good grief. What’s in here? Dom Perignon?”
    “Dinner for two, actually. Think of it as a housewarming gift.”
    Marc’s brow furrowed. He was such a dunce. “Please…please, come in.” He used his shoulder to push back the door.
    Alex crossed the threshold. “Um…what’s that noise?”
    “My agent,” said Marc. She followed his gaze to where his phone lay on the floor. “Could you?”
    Alex bent over to pick it up. “Shall I?” she asked turning back to face him.
    He nodded.
    “I’m afraid Mr. Daniels is no longer available,” she said into the phone. Then she simply ended the call.
    “I like your style,” said Marc. Every little bit of it. From the lacy summer top she wore to the revealing curve of her ankles. “Come on up,” he cocked his head towards the stairs.
    She led the way.
    Marc followed, his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him, the swaying hips as she mounted the stairs to his flat, the swirl of her skirt, the smooth length of her legs. By the time they reached the open door, the blood was pounding in his ears.
    Once inside, he led the way to the kitchen, setting the hamper on the island counter next to his laptop. Alex added his phone to the clutter.
    “Wow,” she said, her eyes roving about the kitchen. “This is fabulous. My whole flat would fit in here.”
    It was, Marc had to admit, rather impressive. Granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances and a refrigerator the size of a bank vault. “Kind of a waste, really. Should I be putting anything in the fridge?”
    “No need. There’s a thermal pack inside.”
    “Would you like a quick tour?”
    “Yes, please.”
    Marc’s surge of pleasure at having Alex here was almost overwhelming. But he kept it in check. She was a bit skittish, and he didn’t want to come on too strong. Relationships were a delicate dance, in his opinion, but he could almost hear the orchestra warming up in the background.
    They looped back through the empty dining room with its ornate ceiling and glistening chandelier. With a wave of pride, Marc watched as she stood in awe of the reception room. The windows were magnificent, soaring over the trees tops and giving a bird’s eye view of the street below. Alex wandered about the room, oohing and aahing at its beauty, the Georgian fireplace, the glossy hardwood floors, and finally the tiny lead soldier standing guard on the mantelpiece. But it was another room devoid of furniture. She didn’t ask, and he didn’t answer. The flat was barren because it had seemed pointless to furnish it. Alex’s attention was all on The Sadler, with nothing left for him. He’d simply lost heart. Or, to be more exact, he’d thought he’d lost her.
    Now that she was here, he wasn’t so sure.
    “You like it?” he asked.
    “It’s beautiful,” Alex replied, turning back to him. “It’s like someone got into my mind and created the perfect flat.”
    Pleasure and satisfaction flared in him; he had gotten it right.
    Marc held out his