Chapter 32
Elle
Our first filming location beyond the incredible sound stages the Grosvenor crew has created at Elstree is Painshill Park in Surrey.
I take the opportunity to slip home for an evening the night before and see my girls before driving down to Surrey tomorrow morning.
I consider offering Josh a lift for about ten seconds before deciding it would be a terrible idea: extreme forced proximity, and my need to focus on the road and not on the god beside me, is not a winning combination.
He can stay at The Grove tonight and hitch a lift from one of the crew.
I can’t imagine he’ll be short on offers.
I do, however, admit my indiscretion to the girls.
I’m bloody exhausted—the long days of shooting are really taking their toll on my body, despite the fact that I’m in bed by nine most nights when I’m at The Grove—but I invite Mara, Honor and Astrid over to hang with us.
Sometimes putting the world to rights with your girlfriends is more restorative than sleeping.
And if not more restorative, then definitely more fun.
There is a predictably wide spectrum of reactions when I confess my totally wrong but utterly delicious secret. Nora looks like she’s bitten into a lemon. Mara’s conflicted—I can tell she’s dying for the sordid details, but with her publicist hat on she’s horrified.
Honor gets excited. She’s so loved up with her gorgeous new man, Dr Noah, that she’s forgotten all about how downright awful these movie stars can be (her ex-husband, Jackson, cheated on her for years before she got her own back with Noah) and wants to see everyone happy.
And Astrid purses up her lips. ‘Interesting. Did you know Gray’s been working with Josh on fronting a sustainability campaign while he’s over here? He’s been really impressed by him.’
Astrid’s husband, Gray, runs sustainability for Kering, the luxury goods conglomerate that owns everyone from Gucci to Alexander McQueen.
‘Sounds like he’s impressive all around.’ Mara swigs at her wine and picks up her phone, frowning at her screen. ’But is this a thing? Do I need to call Josh’s publicist? Fuck’s sake, Elle.’
‘I don’t know if it’s a thing yet. But it’s certainly not a public thing. I promise you, I have zero intention of going public with Josh Lander. Or private, even.’
‘Good. Because you’re on Gordon Kay next week and I know he’ll probe you about working with Josh.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’ There’s definitely nothing to tell Gordon Kay, even if he considers Josh and me fair game, because it was in reply to his tweet that Josh so infamously announced we were done.
‘Are you going to do it again?’ Nora asks, still looking sour.
‘Or was it a one-off? How the hell did it happen, anyway? I thought you were very clear about staying away from Josh Lander and that sinful, sinful body.’ She shakes her head as if it’s a tragic waste that such a body should be attached to someone so morally repugnant.
I adjust Olive on my lap, and she burrows her sweet little snout happily into my crotch in her sleep. She’s a good distraction for my hands so I don’t pick up my wine glass too much. It’s better for my health, and my filming stamina, if I stay off the booze.
‘I’m sure the staying away part all made sense in theory.’ Honor winks at me. ‘Until you saw him in costume and had to fake-shag him. Am I right?’
I groan. ‘Ugh. Yes, basically. We had a big chat last week and, without wanting to betray his confidence, it sounds like he’s done a lot of work on himself since I knew him before. But still, I was adamant I was going to steer clear, because Twitter, obviously.
‘But you’re correct, Hon. Having to act opposite him all day long when he’s dressed up as my favourite book boyfriend of all time, and he’s being all arrogant and ducal and sexy—it’s bloody exhausting.
Honestly. And he’s looking good at the moment, and I was very in character, I mean, deep in character, and, well, it felt mutual. You know?’
I pause and then decide the story’s far too good not to share. I lean forward conspiratorially. ‘So mutual, in fact, that he got a boner when we were filming a sex scene the other day and he had to request a break and run off set.’
There’s a chorus of shocked and delighted squeals.
‘Noooo!’ Nora puts her hand over her mouth. ‘Jesus Christ, what did you do?’
The performer in me is loving my rapt audience.
‘I bolted for my trailer and when he knocked on my door to apologise, I propositioned him. And he totally jumped on me. It was… it was absolutely unbelievable. Hot as fuck. We even stayed in character. For some of it, anyway—we got a bit carried away.’
‘Oh my God!’ Honor slaps the coffee table with her hand. ‘That is priceless. Who isn’t partial to a bit of role-play? Honestly, what a story. Good on you, darling. It would have been a damn shame to have missed that opportunity.’
Mara mock-glares at her. They’ve been friends for years—Mara is Honor’s publicist too, and it was Honor who put us in touch. Mara’s told me nothing matches the shit she had to deal with when Honor was married to Jackson.
‘Do I need to slap you with an NDA on this?’
‘No need.’ Honor hugs herself delightedly. ‘I’ll just retell it to myself when I need cheering up.’
‘I’m struggling here.’ Nora rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
‘I’m fucking furious with you, Elle, for caving like this.
You know what that twat did to you—I’ll never forget what a state you were in when he dumped you.
And I’ll never forgive him. But on the other hand, you’re telling me that you basically had sex in real life with Dominic Coventry?
I mean, for fuck’s sake. How am I supposed to deal with that? You jammy fucking bitch.’
‘Sorry, Nor.’ I do feel a bit guilty. I wish I could share Josh-as-Dom around with everyone, as, like, therapy. Or a reward for getting through the week. Rent-a-Duke on a Friday night. Now there’s a business idea.
She raises her head and stares at me glumly. ‘Did he have one of those billowing shirts on? Did you get to rip it off?’
I squish my face up apologetically. ‘He was naked, I’m afraid.
He had a robe on, obviously, to get to the trailer.
But he was naked. Aside from his fake sideburns, basically.
’ I make a mental note that if I do—big if—happen to fall into a heated de-fluffing situation with Josh Lander in my trailer again, I should ask him to wear that shirt.
Because Nora’s right. That would be so hot.
And maybe breeches, too. And boots. May as well go for the full ducal experience.
The weather is holding up at Painshill Park and the cherry blossoms are out, making it a perfectly pretty backdrop for Georgiana to promenade.
My dear betrothed is also looking perfectly pretty.
So pretty, in fact, I eye-fuck him as soon as he emerges from his trailer (conveniently next to mine. I shall note that for later).
Our relationship (that’s relationship with a small r, FYI) has improved no end since our wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am moment in my trailer earlier this week.
Shooting with him is no end of fun. The banter is filthy and intoxicating: so much so it feels like foreplay.
I mean, who are we kidding? I’m totally going to de-fluff him again.
And while I don’t think Alyssa or Abigail or Kate have guessed, exactly, they’ve certainly noticed a shift. The lack of excruciating awkwardness between us has meant we get our takes far more quickly, which is great for everyone.
I’ve stayed away from Josh outside of the studio, though.
He suggested we eat together in my room last night, and though he framed it as a very throwaway suggestion under the auspices of running lines, I had my suspicions.
I told him I was staying in London last night, so it wasn’t an outright rejection, but our dynamic is intriguing.
If I were observing him closely (which I absolutely am, to the point of being obsessive), I’d say he’s interested.
He seems relieved we’re getting on well, he’s enjoying our sparring, and he’s been very attentive.
But I sense he’s holding off, trying to hold himself back from coming on too heavy with me.
If that’s the case, I’d tell him he’s absolutely right to do that.
Because no matter how amusing this is, no matter how secretly high I am on the sex we had and the delicious tension between us, I’m not stupid, and I’m not a masochist. Yes, he’s behaving like a man who’s captivated by his leading lady, but he’s behaved like that before.
He was like that all the time before, and a fuck load of good it did me.
He called the shots.
He walked away.
This time, I’m calling the shots.
He saunters up to me as the crew members fanny around with setup.
Our very new, and entertaining, thing is to talk dirty to each other before we shoot, while staying in character.
It really bloody works. We’re fit to burst by the time we start filming.
Working on the basis that Josh can manage an erection far better when he’s in a coat than naked on a bed, my objective here is most definitely to fluff him up.
The scene we’re shooting at the park takes place between the engagement and the wedding. Dominic’s objective in it is to persuade Georgiana to make use of the expedited marriage licence the archbishop has granted them, because he cannot wait to get in her pants.
Wait.
Nice ladies in those days didn’t wear pants.
He can’t wait to lift her skirts and have his way, basically.
‘You’re looking ravishing, Miss Kenworthy.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace. My, my, what gleaming boots you have on today.’
‘All the better to dazzle you with, Miss Kenworthy.’
‘Quite the peacock, aren’t you? And don’t your furry friends look particularly lustrous this morning?’
I reach up and touch his sideburn.
‘All the better to give you friction when I get my face between your legs, my beloved betrothed.’
I smirk in a decidedly unvirginal way.
‘Is that the case? I wouldn’t know, Your Grace.’
‘That’s why you will persuade your mother to move our wedding forward.
’ He takes a step, so he’s towering in front of me, and I look up.
Fuck. He’s so bloody hot; it’s a total pain.
And seriously enjoyable. His brown eyes bore into mine.
I can feel the heat from here. ‘I am not a man who takes kindly to being kept waiting, Miss Kenworthy. I know what I want, and that is you. And I want you now, dammit.’
I’m momentarily speechless. I gaze up at him and lick my lips. That mouth is so close to mine and I need to touch it. With mine. Bloody hell, Georgiana has depths of self-control I definitely haven’t been blessed with.
His voice softens. ‘I cannot help what I want. I cannot help that you look so beautiful today. And every day. But when you are in my bed, it won’t be like this.
Your hair, so elegant now, will be spread loose across my pillow.
You will be freed from the constraints of these fine clothes.
There will be nothing between us. Nothing at all. ’
Jesus Christ. If it all goes wrong for Josh in the movie industry, he could definitely write Regency romance. He’s seriously good at this stuff.
‘There is less between us than you think, Your Grace,’ I whisper. ‘I’m not wearing underwear.’
His reaction is priceless. His eyes dart down my body before he closes them and swallows hard. He takes another peek at me.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. I’m being authentic.’
‘The hell you are,’ he growls. He grabs my upper arm over my coat. ‘You know what that means, don’t you? In your trailer? When we’re done?’
I stare up into his molten eyes and nod my head slowly. Silently.
Dan hurries over to us. ‘You two ready to block this one out?’
‘Sure, buddy.’ Josh gives me a filthy once-over that’s a warning of what’s coming later, before turning and giving Dan his attention.
We could have spent the past few minutes going over our lines, but this has really got our blood pumping. This kind of banter will give Abigail every last drop of the tension she wants from this scene. Which is great, because I can’t wait to wrap it.