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up.
    “I decided to do it.”
    “Why the sudden change of heart?” Victoria asked, and
mindlessly played with the wine glass.
    “My manager thinks it will boost my career—a free
publicity I can’t deny. And the studio didn’t give me much choice in the
matter.”
    She frowned. “Will you tell me the real reason? You
know I don’t care much about what Jeff thinks.”
    “You got me.” He smirked. “I often forget I can’t get
past your intuition.”
    “I wonder why you even try.”
    “The truth is we’ll be setting off from the UK.”
    Victoria held her breath. She didn’t dare hope, but
still.
    “I have some extra time, and I will arrive in London
the day before.” He paused. “Which gives us one day or, more likely, an
afternoon to spend together.” He waited for his words to sink in.
    Victoria leaned back in her chair, and with a dead-serious
look, asked, “You’ve agreed to one month of madness just so you can fly to
London and meet me?”
    “I’m getting mixed-up signals here. Are you happy?”
    The joy she tried to contain touched her eyes, and she
grinned like a little kid. “You have no idea. So, you’ll be all mine for the
night, right?”
    “Yes.” He beamed but wondered what her plans were.
    “Perfect!” A devilish smile rose on her face.
    “Do I need to be worried?” he asked, pretending to be
terrified.
    “Definitely!” she stated, and nonchalantly continued
with her salad.
    Ian’s eyes flashed with a new feeling, one that he had
tried to bury deep. Thank God Victoria couldn’t see the sparks of
passion on the low-quality video display.

Chapter Seven
     
    Ian stepped into the foyer, squinting for a second,
and tried to adjust his eyes from the dim street light to the bright sparkling
glimmers of the crystal chandelier.
    Then he saw her. Victoria’s hair was styled
differently—big, glossy locks in a half updo. He liked it. He knew she would
turn any second and meet his eager eyes. The black skirt she wore enfolded her
thighs, and the sight sent unexpected warmth through his body. She turned on
her heels as if sensing his presence, a slow movement with a hint of
hesitation. He made a step toward her, craving to touch her, to hold her tightly,
to feel, to sense, to be in peace. But he restrained himself.
    Victoria had been aware of him even before seeing
Stacy’s eyes widening. She felt the masculine charisma and desperately tried to
resist the need to be in his arms. Their eyes met and then locked into that
invisible bridge known only to them. He walked to the front desk, never once
breaking eye contact. She smiled, and that simple act enveloped them in a
bubble of security and trust. He moved next to her and casually brushed her
sleeve with his hand.
    “Mr. Young, welcome,” she greeted him.
    His smile was a gift meant only for her, and his eyes
told a lot more than the words coming out of his mouth.
    “Miss Dean. So nice to see you again.” He gently took
her hand and held it, unwilling to let go of the softness of her skin. Their
eyes locked, and they dived into each other, held by an invisible bond.
    “The key to room 310, please.”  With slight
frustration on her face, Victoria turned to face wide-eyed Stacy, who was
gaping at both of them. The girl stood there, incapable of any movement or
coherent sound. Victoria knew all too well the effect Ian Young had on women.
With his latest project believed to become a blockbuster and the premiere just a
month away, his privacy was important, even a necessity. The only two people at
the hotel who knew about Ian’s one-day-ahead-of-schedule visit were Victoria
and her boss. So, Stacy stood dumbfounded, gazing into the gorgeous eyes of the
hottest Hollywood star at that moment.
    “Hello, Stacy.” Ian’s voice came like a purr.
    That finally snapped the girl out of her daydream. She
turned red but in a flurry, found the key and passed it to the amused Victoria.
She thought for a second about being in Stacy’s shoes in