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Hollywood Temptation Page 6
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Josh tapped the backside of one of the women he was talking to and Selena shuddered. Attention from a man she did like was fine, but unwanted touching by a man she didn’t?
Not that she was judgmental. She wasn’t. But he was a schmoozer and smarmy with it. The last thing she wanted to do was fall out with Helen’s grandson. But she wasn’t the kind of girl who’d take kindly to forward behavior. She’d just have to stay out of his way.
Colt guided her around to the consulting rooms to meet some of the staff. It was good to put names with faces that were on the appointment system, and the clinic certainly looked well staffed. And everyone seemed to love Colt. It was more than just a civil greeting from a boss, their eyes lit up when they saw him, and he asked about families and weekend activities. The man could charm the birds out of the trees. Then it was on to the surgical area, private rooms, and operating rooms.
Selena stopped outside the double doors. “Let’s not go any farther. I’m sure there are lots of things going on in there I don’t want to know about.”
Colt raised his eyebrows. “Squeamish?”
It pained her to nod.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, if you’re going to be covering here for a month, I’ll need to give you a rundown on some of the surgeries. It’s best you have an idea of what’s involved. Most of the staff observes a surgery or two, to get a feel for the whole clinic experience.”
She was going to be sick, right now, all over his shiny leather Italian shoes.
But he was grinning at her. Was this all just a tease? And why was it bothering her that he’d used the term “covering for a month.” It was what she’d agreed to. So why did it make her uncomfortable?
He waved his hand. “Let’s pass on that for now.” They walked farther down the corridor, through the double doors, but away from the operating rooms. “We’ve got some private rooms down here—you were in one yesterday. They’re for patients who need a few hours recovery time. Nurses will check on patients in these rooms and if it’s appropriate they can get spa treatments while they wait. Let’s go out to the individual guest cottages.”
He guided her down the corridor to a private office and pressed a few buttons on an electronic keypad. The safe door sprung open and he lifted out a set of master keys and gave them a shake. “We’ll talk about these once I’ve shown you around.”
Selena’s heart leapt. Private cottages? Darn it! Why hadn’t she paid attention when he’d pressed in the numbers? Access to one of these could answer all her prayers.
Another thought flicked through her brain. What would Colt say if he caught her doing something like that? She pushed it aside. She didn’t have a single doubt that Colt Travers had some luxury pad somewhere. Right now, she didn’t even have the backseat of a car. Needs must. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
She followed him down some stairs, and they walked along one of the paths outside the building. It was a typical, gorgeous LA day, even though it was October. The weather was still balmy and not the least bit cold.
There were a number of cottages all hidden behind trees with private walkways and gardens. Colt walked over to the nearest and opened the door.
Selena stepped inside and resisted the temptation to jump with excitement. The place was amazing. All on one level with a beautiful sitting area and open-plan kitchen. A luxurious bedroom and private bathroom, with doors out to a paved seating area.
“Who normally stays here?” she asked in her least-affected voice.
“Usually stars who require a bit of privacy after surgery. You know, to let the scars heal or the bruises fade. We sometimes have people in these for up to two weeks.”
“Is there a reservation system? How do I know if one is available or not?” she asked.
He glanced over at her as if her brain was asking questions and she wondered if she was giving herself away.
“You know, in case someone asks when they’re making a booking.” She tried to quantify her questions. Wasn’t that the sort of thing the receptionist should know?
Colt didn’t query any of her questions. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it slightly rumpled. She tried not to let out a little groan. It was so much sexier that way. The I’ve-just-gotten-out-of-bed look. “It’s in a separate part of the booking system. I’ll show you it later.”
She nodded, trying to pay attention. She’d already told herself she had to prioritize. Finding a bed for the night was important, even if Dr. Sexy was distracting her. “What about privacy for the well-known guests?”
“We have a private security firm guarding each of the cottages. It keeps out the paparazzi and anyone trying to find a free bed for the night.”
“Really? People try and do that?” No! This could ruin her secret plans.
“Oh yeah. This is a high-spec area. We need to keep it secure.”
And all her hopes were dashed in an instant. Tonight’s greatest priority was going to be finding a place to sleep now that she didn’t have a car or money to pay for another night at a motel.
“So what type of security do we have?”
“We?” He was towering over her, his tall, broad frame keeping out the bright midday sun. Like her own personal parasol. A girl could dream.
She averted her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that even though he’d obviously shaved early this morning, she could already see the dark stubble appearing on his chiseled jawline. It was so hard to stop herself from looking up into his eyes. Colt Travers was officially making her heart beat faster than normal. Was that a few tiny freckles he had across his nose? She was attracted to him like a magnet. She couldn’t fight being pulled in.
Flirting was fine. Flirting was harmless. Flirting could lead her to the information she required. But that was all. At least that’s what she was telling herself.
She shrugged and tried to bat her eyelashes at him. “I’m trying to get into the spirit of things. You know, the whole ‘I’m part of the clinic staff’ routine. Who knows what questions I’ll get asked over the phone?” She was doing her best to sound plausible. Not like she was desperately trying to find out where she could sleep tonight.
His hand rested gently on her shoulder.
Ignore it. Ignore the fact you’d kind of like to grab it and put it on another part of your body.
“I don’t want to overload you with everything at once. How about I talk to you about all the other arrangements later?”
But later she would need somewhere to stay. And to be honest, until she could sort that bit out in her head, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on another thing. “Humor me?”
Her heart pitter-pattered against her chest, the smile pasted on her face was already making her jaw ache, and she thanked the Lord for her straight, white teeth. Men tended to be dazzled by her smile.
Cole hesitated for a second before he shrugged. “If you insist. Come this way.”
He led her down another corridor to another office. “Ramon is in charge of security at Seacliffe. This is his office.”
She nodded. “Okay then.” Her brain was spinning furiously. How was she going to charm the keys for a luxury cottage out of him?
She had a lightbulb moment. Of course.
“Until I find my footing, I might need to start work early and continue a little late, just to be sure of everything.” She nodded. Was she trying to convince herself or Colt? How plausible did this sound? “Who would I see about access and keys?” Did her voice squeak there? She sure hoped not.
Colt ran his fingers through his hair. “There’ve been a few issues around here, and we’ve made some security adjustments.”
Which meant she didn’t have a hope in hell of conning her way into one of these cottages.
She gave her brightest smile. “Will any of those arrangements prevent me from doing the job I have to do?”
Colt took a few seconds, then shook his head. “Most of our publicity issues have been around information. We like to be careful
about who we allow on the premises.” He lifted out a clipboard from a hook on the wall. “Sign this, and I’ll speak to Ramon.”
“What is this?”
He pulled a piece of paper from the box in front of him and threaded a key loose from the bunch in his hands. “You’re signing for a master key for the office and our latest door access codes for the front gates, entrance to the offices, and the service entrance around back. Don’t lose them; we change them every three weeks,” he warned.
She slid the coveted prize into her pocket—resisting the temptation to jump for joy—then picked up the pen and scribbled her name before he could notice how much her hand was shaking. “You change the codes and the keys?”
He shook his head. “Just the codes. Once you’ve opened a lock anywhere on this compound you have to enter the access code before you open the door. It ensures the alarms don’t go off.” He looked sideways at her. “And if the alarms sound, I can assure you it will mean trouble.” He gave her a half grin. “Ramon doesn’t like it when there are security issues.”
“What does that mean?” Oh no. Please let her nerve hold.
“It means you’ll probably get trampled by half-a-dozen burly security guards.”
She gave a shudder. “Ouch.”
“Exactly. So don’t do it.”
“What about the cottages or the spa? How do I access those?”
“You mean after hours?”
She nodded. “Yes, if I’m working late.”
He shrugged. “Lots of staff use the spa after hours. But it can be only be accessed from inside. You have to go through the offices. The front entrance is locked up at night.”
“And the residences?” Any minute now Colt was going to wonder why she was asking so many questions. Did he really believe she was being this thorough? Or was he still too focused on the clinic leaks?
Please let him be.
“We change the access codes and employ extra staff whenever we have a celebrity client.” He pointed to an electronic map on the wall showing an aerial view of the whole compound including the cottages, parking lot, and clinic area. She hadn’t realized quite how big it was around here.
“What does it mean if they’re red?”
“If the houses are colored red it means they’re occupied. We patrol at night to make sure there are no intruders and set the perimeter alarms around each one.”
“And the green ones?”
“They’re unoccupied. We don’t need to watch them.”
Selena nodded. The tightness in her chest eased a little. Maybe there was still a shred of hope. Her gaze fixed on the cottage furthest away from the main clinic, well away from the two that were currently occupied. Could she make it there unnoticed?
It was worth a try.
“Thanks, Colt.” She gave him her brightest smile as they headed down the corridor. “That’s been really helpful. I think I’ve got the hang of everything.”
Their hands lifted at the same time to push open the door, brushing together. As they connected a spark of blue static electricity lit up between their meeting hands and the metal plate on the door.
“Ouch!” she pulled back her hand as if she’d been stung. Touching his warm flesh sent a zing up her arm. Colt was rubbing his hand and looking at her with amusement. “Seems you’re as sparky in the flesh as you are in personality.”
“What does that mean?” She was instantly wary. Was he about to acknowledge out loud the mutual attraction between them? How could he, for the next month he would be her boss. A definite no-go area. But after that…
Colt Travers was way out of her league. She only had a suitcase of clothes to her name right now. No house. No car. Plenty of debts. No working credit cards and very little income. Colt? He was a man with the world at his feet, partner in one of the best plastic-surgery clinics around. He wouldn’t be interested in someone like her. Not long-term anyway.
But what about in the immediate future? He had the gift of flirting down to a fine art. Maybe it was the one thing she could match him on. After all, flirting with Colt Travers could lead to something much more fun.
There was a definite cheeky glint in his eyes. And she liked it. More than she should.
This day was definitely about to improve.
His stomach growled. “I’m hungry. Let’s do lunch.” His eyebrows rose. “And if you have any more questions, I can answer them then.”
Selena smiled. Her first genuine one of the morning. Right now she was feeling relief. A free lunch, the possibility of a bed for the night, and a red-hot boss. What more could a girl want?
Chapter Four
“Are you crazy?” If Helen’s voice screeched any higher it could shatter glass.
Colt sighed. He couldn’t listen to much more of this. The first thirty minutes, she’d screamed about him firing the secretary and leaving them shorthanded. For the last ten minutes, he’d listened to her disapproval about the unorthodox way he’d hired a new one. “Clearly. I work here. Have you finished, Helen?”
She patted her graying hair pulled back into an elegant bun. There was never a strand of hair out of place. Her makeup was immaculate and her fitted, gray suit skimmed her thinning curves. Had she lost some weight recently? “Have you checked her references? Where is her CV? Is she even trustworthy? After all, she came here for treatment and couldn’t pay her bill. What kind of person is she?”
Colt blew out a long stream of air from his lungs. He’d heard all of this already and was quickly losing patience. He stood up. “Helen, let me deal with Selena’s CV and references. It’s highly unlikely she is going to be a threat to the clinic—she came here for treatment. I’ll get her to sign the standard privacy agreement. We will need to recruit, but, for the moment, I’ve plugged the gap we would have been left with for a month.”
A frown creased her elegant forehead. Helen didn’t believe in Botox. “Well, it’s not exactly an ideal way for a client to pay off her bill.”
“I agree. But let’s see how it works out.”
She waved her hand in dismissal, and resisting the temptation to start another argument, Colt left.
Deep down he loved Helen dearly. In years gone by, she and her husband had been good to him. But she was set in her ways, she still didn’t understand the concept of having “partners.” Sometimes she acted as though the clinic was hers alone.
He leaned against the window, watching Selena sitting at the desk, her frame silhouetted by the setting sun. She was concentrating fiercely on the screen in front of her, her nose wrinkled, and a deep frown crossing her brow.
He smiled. Not a single sign of Botox anywhere. It was almost refreshing.
Apart from the wound on her forehead she was pretty much perfect.
Particularly the curve of her firm backside in that designer black skirt and the slight stretch of the emerald shirt across her breasts. It hugged her in all the right places. Not that he’d been looking. Not at all. But it was kind of difficult when she was right under his nose.
He had to keep reminding himself that she was still officially a patient and also an employee.
He didn’t have enough hours in the day as it was—what with working here and at Helen’s House sometimes it seemed as if sleep was an optional extra. Last time he’d dated it had only lasted a few weeks before the woman had grown tired of his lack of availability. He was crazy to think that there could ever be anything between him and Selena.
He shook his head. Too bad. Last night, in a moment of madness, he’d downloaded an app onto his phone—one with a countdown to the date when she’d no longer be working here. The date when he could actually tell her what he’d like to do to her.
“Finishing up?” He glanced at his watch. It was after nine. She should have finished hours ago.
His voice made her start. Definitely cute. And maybe a little hot. “I’ve been familiarizing myself with the systems in place in the clinic. I want to be able to hit the ground running tomorrow. The phones here are crazy,
and I need to be on top of things.”
Dedication. He was surprised. Maybe hiring Selena hadn’t been such a bad idea after all? From where he was standing, it looked like a pretty good idea.
“It’s late, Selena. And I hate to break it to you, but we’re not paying you overtime.” Maybe she was trying to put in extra hours to pay her bill quicker. Cool. He could recalculate the countdown app on his phone.
He moved across the room and leaned against the edge of her desk. His feet were aching after a long stint in surgery this afternoon. He couldn’t wait for that twilight time tonight when he could go for his run along the beach. Early every morning, and late every evening. Times when the beach was quiet and all he could hear was the ocean waves.
She rolled her eyes. “Believe me. I know I don’t get overtime. But I didn’t get to meet Helen Ridgeway yet, and truth be told, I’m a little scared. She has a bit of a reputation around this place.”
He shifted his position at the edge of the desk and tried not to focus on the fact he currently had an exquisite view of her cleavage. It hadn’t been deliberate. No way. “I’ll make a point of introducing you to Helen tomorrow. She’s a no-nonsense kind of woman. This clinic is her life. She doesn’t like it when anything goes wrong.”
Selena hesitated for a second. “You mean the leaks?”
He sighed and nodded. “It’s hardly an ideal situation. People come here to hide away, to get out of the limelight. They need to feel confident their privacy will be protected here. We’ve already had a few cancellations.”
“Surely that won’t cause any problems? This place is packed.”
He folded his arms across his chest. He couldn’t really say out loud what he wanted to. If Seacliffe’s income dropped, they wouldn’t be able to continue the work at Helen’s House or the facial surgeries they did for kids. His whole real motivation for the work he did would be gone. “We’ll need to wait and see.”
She glanced across the screen on the computer with tomorrow’s appointments. “Do you see many of the celebrity clients? I thought Jeremiah dealt with most of them.”
“He usually does. It’s why he’s known as the plastic surgeon to the stars. But everyone has the right to choose.” He leaned over and glanced at the screen. A name leapt out at him but he wasn’t surprised. “Ah, you mean Magdalena? We go way back. She always comes to see me. Haven’t you heard? She’s everybody’s favorite pop star.”