Read Online The Reluctant Celebrity by Laurie Ellingham - Free Book Online

long,’ he added. ‘There’s a good pub on the corner called The Engine.
Get a drink and I’ll join you soon.’
    ‘I
hope you’re not trying to sweet talk me into dinner Guy,’ she said, her tone conveying
the opposite of her words.
    ‘Dinner?’
Guy’s stomach growled its agreement. Had he mentioned dinner?
    ‘I
have a surprise for you,’ she continued, ignoring him. ‘We can discuss it
tonight, but let me just whisper the words Radio One’s Live Lounge to
you.’
    ‘Really?
They want me? That’s amazing.’
    ‘Better
get here soon Guy before I give the slot to one of my other clients. One who
doesn’t forget our meetings.’
    ‘I’m
on my way.’
    Guy’s
hand reached for the ignition as he threw his mobile onto the passenger seat.
    Live
Lounge would be a great set. A real sign he’d broken away from
modelling and been accepted into the music industry, and he had Sonja to thank
for it. She might be a bit of a ball ache at times, but she’d earned her salary
three times over, and did it without breaking a nail on her perfectly manicured
hands.
    It
was a shame she wasn’t his type, because he was sure she had a thing for him.
He could tell by the way she looked at him. It reminded him of a tiger getting
ready to pounce. A beautiful redheaded tiger, but a predator none the less.
    Maybe
she could be his type? He wondered to himself as he accelerated out of the
motorway services. He needed to get Juliet out of his head, he decided. And how
better than with a good-looking woman?
    The
memory of Japan flashed in front of his eyes; a warning from his unconscious,
Guy thought. The elfin blonde model with pale skin so soft it had filled him
with instant desire. And yet something had gone very wrong. He could still hear
her callous laugh, just like Juliet’s had been earlier, or Jules, he corrected
himself.
     It
was time to stop looking back. Forget Juliet once and for all, like she’d
forgotten him. Forget the model in Japan. One time, that’s all it had been, he
reminded himself, moving the Jaguar into the outside lane as he sped home.
    Time
to get back in the game, Guy told himself, pushing aside the memory of Juliet’s
emerald eyes glistening with anger and the feelings it had stirred in him.

Nine
    Something
was definitely wrong. The thought nagged at Jules like a persistent alarm clock
determined to get her out of bed, but in her pre-waking minutes she had no
intention of moving from under the weight of the warm duvet, or lifting her
head from the squishy cloud-like pillow.
    She
must be dreaming. At some point soon the alarm on her mobile would start to
beep and she would find herself back in the shivering cold of the guesthouse,
with the carpet as prickly as pine needles beneath her feet, and a shower so
hot it left her skin raw.
    If
only the thought would stop poking, trying to wake her from the comfort of her
dream.
    With
her eyes still shut, Jules wriggled her foot out of the bed, waiting for the
icy air to hit like a shot of caffeine. Nothing happened. Maybe Mrs Beckwith
had cranked the heat up for once, she wondered as she drifted back to sleep.
Then someone moved next to her and all notions of sleep disappeared.
     Jules’
body tensed. In an instant she realised four things: she was in someone else’s
bed; that someone lay asleep next to her; she had a throbbing headache, and a
mouth that tasted like sour feet.
    The
person next to her let out a deep sigh, causing a thick stench of manure and
raw meat to fill her nose. If she ever had the misfortune to discover a
decomposing body, she had a feeling it would smell a lot like the breath of the
person next to her. 
    The
person moved again, nudging something wet and warm against the back of her
neck.
    She
had been kidnapped, she realised, as fear gripped her. Drugged and kidnapped.
It was the only explanation. And now the kidnapper with the dead body breath
and the lovely warm bed had decided to subject her to some kind of