He grins, and my ovaries salute him.
‘Gracie,’ he clarifies. ‘I don’t wanna patronise you, because you’ve already shown me how talented you are, but I’m not sure if you realise how much things are about to change for you. Because that performance was exquisite. Flawless. And I’m pretty sure the juries will agree.’
Hearing this from the mouth of an A-lister is beyondsurreal. I stammer athank youin a very British, self-deprecating way, but he puts up a hand.
‘Don’t even think of trying to argue the fact. I’m not saying that to get in your panties. Well, I am. But it happens to be true.’
Oh my God. Oh my good Lord. Josh Lander has just told me he wants to—I begin to unravel, but he keeps going.
‘The reaction I had to watching you act—well, it doesn’t happen very often. I had goosebumps.’ He pauses. ‘And I couldn’t take my eyes off of you on screen. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.’
My jaw drops open. I cannot believe he is saying this stuff. Tome.
Josh gestures to a stone bench beside us and I sit gratefully. These shoes are murdering my feet already. He drops down right beside me and twists his big body to face me.
‘It was a big relief to see you all happy and normal on the dance floor later. That was one of the reasons I went over to dance with you—you looked so free and alive. I wanted to punch that guy’s lights out, though,’ he continues. ‘Your boss in the movie.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ I laugh. ‘David. I promise you, he’s a sweetie. He has a wife and three kids, and he’s not remotely pervy in real life.’
He frowns. ‘Still. He was way too convincing for my liking.’
‘I should say that’s a compliment to his acting skills,’ I say lightly. Josh’s overprotective vibe is not unattractive, to put it mildly. And he’s gazing at me as if I’m the only woman in the universe, which is also having an effect on me, stirring up butterflies in my tummy (and slightly south of there).
He seems to realise he’s being a little too heavy, and visibly pulls himself together. He grins at me. ‘So, how are you enjoying your first Cannes?’
‘It’s fabulous. And full on. Not much rest for the wicked.’
‘Yeah, I imagine they’re working you hard. That movie is all you. It’s a lot to carry. Junkets all day?’
‘Allday,’ I groan.
He laughs. ‘It’s a fucking nightmare. You’ll have to come back when you don’t have a movie premiering—it’s a lot more fun. Have you even gotten into the ocean yet?’
‘They haven’t let me anywhere near a beach. Or a pool. Though I’d say the sea’s a bit cold at this time of year?’
‘It’s gorgeous. Refreshing. Where are you staying?’
‘The Martinez,’ I say, and his grin broadens.
‘Well, imagine that. Me too.’
I shake my head in mock disbelief. ‘What a coincidence.’
‘Isn’t it just? Very convenient for my intentions toward you. You got a full day tomorrow?’
I ignore his innuendo. ‘I do from midday. My publicist took pity on me and gave me the morning off so I could enjoy myself tonight.’
‘Did she now? You fixed on sleeping in, or can I proposition you?’
I narrow my eyes at him, Jackson’s warning ringing in my ears.
He laughs again. He seems to find me endlessly amusing. I have no idea why. ‘Come with me for a minute? I wanna show you something.’
I humour him and take his hand, and he leads me across the beautiful gardens, with their intoxicating mix of manicured flowerbeds and luscious greenery. The air is definitely cool up here, in this elevated position, but the view is spectacular.
‘This is so heavenly.’
‘The whole place was built by a Dutchman.’ He turns to me. ‘He named it after his wife—Eilenroc is an anagram of Cornélie.’
