Falling for Mr. Unexpected Read online

  Damian schooled his features to a blank slate.

  At the rate his home was filling up, it wouldn’t be long before the media got wind of him being in the country. He had to make a call to his agent to cover all his bases on what information needed to be out there in the public. He didn’t like being caught off guard, and lately that happened too often.

  He had to start using his brain where Emma was concerned, too. It would be stupid of him to get involved with her. His spotlight kind of life wasn’t for everyone.

  “Damian?” Stephanie’s voice brought him back.

  “It’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make.”

  He left without a backward glance. Before Damian showered, he checked his phone. He groaned: four missed calls and two voicemails. Ian had called and Lizle left a dozen messages.

  I shouldn’t have given her this number.

  Ian picked up after a heartbeat. “Damian, my man!”

  “Ian, my family knows I’m in SA. Be prepared,” he said as he walked to his bathroom.

  “I’ll get on it. We could run a piece on home and hearth or something. You are visiting the folks, getting some much-needed downtime.”

  “Rather not. You can use my brother’s recent nuptials, if you want. Keep my parents out of it.”

  “Okay….” Ian paused. “There’s another thing.”

  “What? Spit it out.” He rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. By the sound of Ian’s voice, this couldn’t be anything good.

  “The movie’s on. They want you back.”

  Damian gave a short laugh. “Lizle called several times.”

  “She isn’t supposed to contact you.”

  “She left voicemails while I went jogging. I haven’t checked them yet.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t talk to her until I tell you it’s okay. Have you seen the papers?”

  “No. I’ve been busy.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  Damian couldn’t believe Emma and her broken toe had kept him so occupied he hadn’t checked to see if stories concerning him still circulated.

  “Lizle issued a public apology. Though she says she herself had nothing to do with the clips leaking onto the Internet, someone who worked for her did leak them, so she feels like it was her fault. She should have known better than to trust people implicitly.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Hard to say. Anything’s possible. Though she doesn’t have the history of someone who seeks bad publicity.”

  Damian sighed. His answer doesn’t help me at all. He started stripping off his clothes as he walked to his bathroom, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder. “So I don’t talk to her. What does my contract say about the movie?”

  “If you don’t want to do it anymore, I can get you out of it with a good deal. We have enough ground to stand on.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he replied. “Thanks, Ian.”

  “I’ll call you when I have more information.”

  He ended the call and stepped into the shower.

  With water running down his face, he weighed the reasons to do the movie against the reasons he shouldn’t. He had always wanted to work with the director. It had been the main reason he signed on. What will the movie be after all the scandal?

  It would be a pity if they made the movie only to have it overshadowed by tabloid trivia. Still, he didn’t want to walk away from the movie all together. He wanted to finish what he started.

  ***

  Emma’d had a running commentary going through her mind since Damian had left her bedroom.

  It didn’t help how her inner self berated her the whole time as she sat, stuck on the sofa, unable to get up and leave.

  Something she seriously considered again. However, Stephanie had gotten it into her head to enjoy the private beach before they left.

  Emma sighed as she gave up pretending to read.

  She would really love to talk to Nomsa right now, if only to get her mind off what was happening in her life.

  She blew out a breath. There was a phone in here. She scanned the room, hoping Damian hadn’t hidden it. She’d thrown the thing across the room. But it hadn’t hit the wall, only slid across the floor because her throwing arm wasn’t good. She checked to see if he had put it back and fist pumped the air. He did.

  Emma inched off the sofa and crawled to the phone. It had a couple of scrapes, but the receiver hadn’t suffered any damage. She hoped.

  When the dial tone came on, she sighed in relief.

  Sitting flat on the floor, she punched in Nomsa’s number, keeping her fingers crossed she had the right number and the phone worked. “Hallo?”

  “It’s me, Emma!” A flood of relief went through her.

  “Oh, hey! How you doing? Miss me so soon?”

  “Yeah, actually I am,” she said in a warm tone.

  “After what? Two and a half days? What you been up to?”

  Emma bit her lip, wanting to tell Nomsa everything, but knowing she couldn’t. She wanted Damian to trust her. She closed her eyes.

  “Reading. I had a mild accident with my books falling on my feet, but I’m okay. You? What are you up to?”

  “Oh, girl, don’t get me started!”

  Emma laughed.

  “So I get to the airport, Bloemfontein bound and everything, only to have them inform me they’ve overbooked. I’m telling you, I was not in the mood for flight changes, but by some miracle I did get airborne because, you know, I promised to be there for my grandmother’s eightieth, I had to make it happen. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I get seated next to this guy, Greg. And he’s this really funky guy. I think, a bit crazy. But I’m laughing so hard the whole way. I’ve never had any guy make me laugh like he did. He’s also visiting family in Bloemfontein and is only staying for a couple of days, then he has to be back at work and….”

  Staring out of the patio doors, Emma listened to her friend prattle on. Nomsa brought some of the outside world with her, and Emma realized how confined she had been since she’d come to Strand.

  No wonder everything had been so intense. I’m in a fishbowl.

  She should stop agonizing over what happened with Damian. It had been a one-off thing. If she hadn’t been so immobile she probably wouldn’t have made too much of what happened between them. She would have more perspective. Yes that’s it. She made way too much of what happened. No wonder he bolted.

  “Emma…?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here. Did you tell your mom about him?”

  Nomsa shrieked in her ear. “No way. I’m keeping this one close. The moment I mention anything like a guy, it gets dissected. So, no. But he asked for my e-mail. What does it mean? Shouldn’t he have asked for my number?”

  “Your e-mail? To do what? Send you e-mail love letters?” She asked.

  “Exactly what I thought. He’s not as interested as I am.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have asked for your e-mail.”

  “But what does it mean? He likes me enough to keep contact or…?”

  “He likes sending e-mails?” Emma filled in the blank.

  “Or he wants to keep in touch. Maybe he’d only been friendly.” She sounded hopeful.

  “Do you think he was being sociable?”

  They stayed quiet for a moment. “It could be…oh, I don’t know!” Nomsa ended off.

  “You know what my views are,” Emma said with wariness in her tone.

  “If he’s interested, he’ll contact me—in this case e-mail me.”

  “Yeah.” Emma shrugged, even though Nomsa couldn’t see her. “No use beating yourself up over it. Enjoy the experience and move on.”

  “You make it sound so simple. It never is. As much as you don’t want to, you do invest something, even if it’s only one conversation with a stranger.”

  Nomsa’s words caused her to think of her own recent conclusions.

  “It is. You can’t react to anything if he doe
sn’t contact you. The ball is in his court. Not yours. So instead of becoming insecure, chalk it up to a nice experience and enjoy your holiday. I mean, why should you stress about something he’s most likely forgotten about already.” At the end of her reply, she realized how heated she had become as silence greeted her.

  “Nomsa?”

  “I’m still here, wondering if your holiday’s been as uneventful as you claim.”

  Emma bit her lip. “You know me, Nomsa.”

  Nomsa gave a short hoot. “I do. Forever the cynic. You don’t even give me my romantic comedy moment of agonizing over a guy I barely know.”

  “I’m sorry. Go ahead. We all need our thrills.” This time Nomsa did a full-on belly laugh. Emma could imagine her holding her sides like she was prone to do.

  “It’s good to hear from you, friend. By the way, Timisho says hey.”

  Emma groaned. “Did he really?”

  Nomsa’s aunt had said Timisho was an IT specialist, interested in astronomy and long walks on the beach. She spent a whole date listening to his take on doomsday theories. The first involved the sun burning out causing a massive explosion with gamma rays bursting and giving off radiation. Then came his Bambi versus Godzilla theory, aliens being the latter. And finally artificial intelligence;like Sarah Conner, we would be chased by Terminators. The science had been fascinating even if the guy wasn’t.

  “No. But I told him you did, and he turned pale. Do you know how hard it is for a black guy to turn pale?”

  Emma burst out laughing, cradling her stomach.

  “Oh. You’re too funny. Poor Timisho. Tell him I said hey and asked if he has considered global warming as a doomsday theory.”

  Nomsa chuckled. “You will not stop will you?”

  “Nope. I can’t help it. Timisho created a monster. I feel compelled to challenge his theories.”

  Footsteps alerted her to someone coming down the stairs, and she said a hasty good-bye to Nomsa, who still wanted to talk.

  Emma placed the phone back and had been halfway crawling, to the sofa when Damian said, “Either you’re talking to yourself or you were on the phone.”

  She stopped and sat down, her back to the sofa. “You didn’t say I couldn’t use that phone.”

  “It was implied.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Who were you talking to?” he asked, hands on his hips.

  “A friend. I didn’t say anything about you,” she added.

  “I would hope not.”

  Sick of his scowl always being aimed at her, she said, “ I’ll tell Stephanie we can leave tonight when Mark comes. It will be better all around. You don’t have to worry about the media getting wind of you being here.”

  “And what’s in it for you?”

  “What?” she asked, baffled.

  “I get my privacy back. What do you get?”

  “The freedom to call my friends when I want to.” She gestured with her hand.

  “Do you always runaway when things get too close for comfort?” He replaced his scowl with a curious expression.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I heard you, but I don’t understand you. There’s a difference.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Let me simplify it for you. We kissed. You became serious before I’d even caught my breath. Then I left. And we haven’t talked about what happened. Now you want to leave. Understand now?”

  “Your sarcasm is noted, not appreciated,” she said with fake sweetness.

  “Broken bone takes time to heal. If it had been a finger, it would have been less invasive. Mark will tell you it would be better if you didn’t leave. You could cause more damage, which would cause the break to take longer to heal. Ask him. I’m not trying to win an argument, only stating a fact.”

  He paused and she realized Nomsa was right. Things were never simple. “And about what happened this morning. You’re right. We shouldn’t have kissed. I’m sorry.”

  With those words he left.

  Emma blinked at the sound of the door slamming. She stared down at her outstretched legs and bandaged feet.

  They shouldn’t have kissed, but they had. She wouldn’t make more of it—if he didn’t. And hadn’t she already come to the conclusion herself. Then why don’t I understand?

  Chapter Seven

  Emma sat next to Richard and across from Damian, who had transformed into a charming host. He returned from his “outing” well before his brother and Richard had shown up for the dinner Stephanie slaved over the whole afternoon.

  She had even foregone her swim when Mark called to say they would be in Strand at seven. She had to hand it to her sister. Stephanie’d rallied and made a three-course meal that would put any restaurant to shame. She even did Emma’s hair, a feat in itself. Her curly mass could be downright disobedient at times. But Stephanie insisted curls suited her best, and when Emma looked in the mirror before they headed down for dinner, she agreed with her sister. The glossy curls framing her face did complement her.

  Emma gazed across the table, seeing a side of Damian all of Hollywood probably knew. Gone were the bare feet and faded jeans. He wore a stylish black shirt, a pair of fitted black pants, and shiny—could only be Italian—loafers. Here’s the man I would’ve instantly recognized.

  “Would you like some wine?” Richard asked, bringing her attention to him.

  “No, thank you.” She mentally sighed.

  Stephanie had forced her into a light summer dress, one of hers because Richard liked feminine women.

  When she asked what him preferring women in dresses had to do with her, Stephanie had given her a deadpan look.

  Stephanie wanted her to “catch” Richard like he was a fish. And what’s up with that concept anyway? Why catch a man? It worked from the premise they were running away. And who wants to “catch” someone who doesn’t want to be caught? Who’s literally running away from you.

  Richard gazed at her over his wineglass, and Emma gave him a tight smile.

  In his case, he actually wanted to be caught. Stephanie led most of the conversation at the table. He wasn’t a bad person really. Not because of his career. Richard was actually a very nice guy and attractive, if you went for the blond-bombshell type.

  Emma’s mouth quirked.

  He was obviously intelligent, but didn’t feel compelled to let the whole world know it. A great listener, he made pointed inquiries about her work. She hadn’t thought he’d paid attention when she talked about teaching. Most men simply hadn’t.

  Probably one of the main reasons why I’m still single.

  Emma had known Richard as long as she’d known Mark, but knowing him all these years had made no difference to her. She could see the interest in his eyes, but the moment he started hinting at them doing something together even remotely similar to a date, she found an excuse to leave the room.

  She hated being the one always doing the rejecting. Emma stabbed into the fish with her fork. But she couldn’t make herself go out with someone without some kind of attraction. Unlike Nomsa, she didn’t believe in sparks, but there should be a level of chemistry.

  Emma looked up from her plate into Damian’s dark gaze. Yep definitely an attraction. Her hormones taunted as her lungs filled quickly with air.

  “Stephanie says you’ll be in Strand for the next couple of weeks. I’m in Cape Town this weekend for a medical convention. I could stop by, seeing as how you can’t go anywhere,” Richard said.

  Emma dragged her gaze from Damian’s mocking grin.

  “Um…. Aren’t we going home?” She glowered at Stephanie.

  “Didn’t you hear what Mark said? It would be better if we stayed here.”

  Emma started. She hadn’t heard a word of what Mark had said. When they’d arrived, he’d examined her foot, and when she asked him if she could go home earlier, he’d said as long as she didn’t do the driving. So, she could go home.

  Mark, in the process of putting his fork in his mouth,
stopped short as he found all of them staring at him.

  “It would be better to not damage the break,” he said after Stephanie gave him a sharp look the rest of them didn’t miss since she didn’t do much to hide it.

  “But you said….”

  “Now that we have everything settled.” Stephanie talked over her. “Who wants dessert?”

  “I would love some,” Damian said. His amused grin was not lost on Emma.

  “I hope it won’t be any trouble. I have Saturday afternoon free,” Richard said.

  “And you want to come here?” Damian asked as if it had been the most insane thing he’d ever heard.

  “If Emma wants me, then, yes,” Richard replied, with a magnanimous smile.

  “Oh she’ll love to have you!” Stephanie exclaimed. Emma would have kicked her if both her feet weren’t sore.

  “Love. Really?” Damian took a sip from his wineglass.

  “One can only hope,” Richard said before she could formulate a reply.

  “Dessert!” Stephanie said into the uncomfortable pause after Richard’s words.

  And Emma knew she was probably the only uncomfortable one, seeing as how Damian clearly enjoyed himself by poking fun at her. And Mark was too absorbed by his wife’s cuisine. And Richard mistakenly thinking Damian a rival.

  Emma wanted to kick Damian, too.

  ***

  Damian couldn’t believe he’d taken part in the ridiculous evening.

  After Mark and his friend Richard Michaels showed up, Stephanie turned into a complete nightmare, pushing Emma in Richard’s direction.

  He shouldn’t find it so amusing, but it was fun watching her squirm.

  Mark had gone off to help Stephanie with the dessert, and now only the three of them sat at the table. He hadn’t had time to talk to Mark, wish him a happy belated birthday.

  “No, I’m not really a sports fan.”

  Emma’s voice broke into his thoughts about the talk he and his brother would have later.

  “I have tickets to the rugby this weekend. South Africa versus New Zealand,” Richard informed Damian.

  “I wanted to catch a game before I left the country,” Damian said with enthusiasm and didn’t miss Emma’s frown.