Star Attraction Read online

  Star Attraction

  Sorcha MacMurrough

  College lecturer and secret romance novelist Zaira Darcy literally bumps into the man of her dreams in an elevator. Dashing Brad Clarke, Hollywood’s hottest new director, working alongside her in New York on the screenplay of her hot new bestseller, is everything she could want in a man, and more.

  But the secrets from her past threaten to destroy any chance of happiness they might have. Zaira must learn to trust to love again. Just when Zaira and Brad find true love, her joy is ripped from her by a series of shocking revelations. Brad is forced to go on the run for a series of crimes he didn't commit. Can Zaira trust him? Or is someone behind this plot to ruin him?

  Zaira searches her heart for the truth, and must lock horns with her ex-husband Jonathan one last time to save Brad’s life, even if it means sacrificing her own…

  Before Zaira could say a word, Brad placed a wad of money on the table, and took her firmly by the elbow. He hailed a cab at the corner, and pushed her in.

  “I’m sorry, but it's been a long day, and I just want to get home,” Brad declared, taking her hand firmly, his voice brooking no refusal.

  Zaira leaned helplessly against him in the taxi. He was leaving her, getting married, going back home to California forever. It was too late. She had lost him.

  Brad caressed her fingers with his own, gently yet possessively, and kissed her softly as the car pulled up to the curb. All the way up the elevator he kissed her, stroking her hair and her eyelids, and cheeks, nuzzling her ear playfully until she was on fire.

  He kissed and caressed her with his hands all the way down the corridor, and ran one hand up and down her back, pressing her closely to him in an intimate embrace which left her in no doubt of his desires. With his other hand he unlocked the door, and switched on the light.

  Pleasure turned to pain as Brad rammed her up against the wall and ground out, “The game is over, Zaira, Zoe, whatever you’re called! I want the truth, and I want it now.”

  Reviews:

  “In this contemporary thriller Zaira Darcy and new-found love interest Brad Clark undergo a comedy of errors which turns into a deadly game of cat and mouse. Zaira leads a double life: respectable academic by day, historical novelist by night. When top director Brad decides he wants to make a Hollywood blockbuster of her latest book, it’s an offer she can’t refuse. Left destitute by her husband, who vanished without a trace, she decides to help Brad and keep control of her own book by pretending to be Zoe, the new screenwriter for the book.

  “When her ex Jonathan appears out of the blue working for Brad’s father and tries to blackmail her into keeping silent about his identity, she smells a rat. But before Zaira can tell Brad the truth about her identity and the fact that she has fallen head over heels for him, Brad figures out the game she has been playing and is not sure he can trust her.

  When Brad is accused of the most horrendous criminal activities, Zaira is convinced it is her ex who is to blame. She must uncover the truth and clear Brad’s good name, even if it means losing him--or her very life....

  “A remarkable novel which starts out in a light-hearted way, with a great number of intriguing questions, and soon becomes whirlwind of passion, mystery and intrigue. Zaira is a very capable woman, Brad the type of hero most women long for. Together they are explosive, and adding the evil Jonathan to the mix creates a situation fraught with tension. The author manages to keep you guessing until the very end. If there is any couple you want to have the fairy tale ending, it is Zaira and Brad. Hang onto you seats while you wait to see if they get there!” Annabelle Stevens, Love’s Sweet Song

  “Zaira Darcy is just recovering from a shocking divorce when the devastatingly handsome Brad Clark barges into her life and turns it completely around. From being homeless and penniless, she not only has a good job and place to live at the university she is teaching in, but Brad wants to film her novel, and even pay her money to write the screenplay.

  "Eager to keep her privacy, and the two parts of her life separate, academic and novelist, she invents an alter ego, Zoe. Zoe dares to do things the shy and retiring Zaira would never do, including act and direct and become involved in a sizzling relationship with Brad.

  “Brad feels like a fool when he discovers Zoe and Zaira are one and the same person, but loves her enough to forgive her. But any question of living happily ever after is destroyed when Brad is accused of unspeakable criminal acts. Zaira begs him to flee the country while she and some new-found friends try to clear his name.

  "Zaira become convinced that her ex-husband Jonathan, now working for Clark Studios, is trying to destroy Brad and seize the company for himself. As Zaira digs further and further to prove Brad’s innocence, the inevitable confrontation with Jonathan is only a heartbeat away....and so is her death.

  “Ms. MacMurrough has penned an exceptional romantic suspense novel with remarkable characters and tight, clever plotting which makes for a fascinating read.” Jacqui Jerome, The Picture of Bliss

  “Zaira Darcy, shy, demure academic, falls head over heels for stunning Hollywood director Brad Clark, who has come to New York to teach at her university, and to meet the author of “The Dark Lady,” the historical novel topping the bestsellers’ list. Zaira has written the novel under a nom de plume, and doesn’t dare tell Brad she is the author for fear of getting in way over her head with the incredibly wealthy and powerful man. Having just got over her divorce to the power-hungry Jonathan Waxman, she is leery of commitment, and all that Brad is offering her seems just too good to be true.

  "Brad is not your typical Hollywood movie mogul: he is an intelligent and compassionate man with a conscience, and the sexiest body Zaira has ever laid eyes on. As their minds meet over work, their bodies are drawn together by sheer magnetism. Zaira isn’t able to keep up the pretence of being novelist Zoe for very long, as Brad strips their relationship down to the bare essentials: they're in love, so why fight it?

  But before Zaira and Brad can settle things between them, her ex tries to take over Brad’s studio, resorting to criminal activities and even attempted murder to get his own way. Only Zaira is fully aware of exactly what Jonathan is capable of, and is the only person who can protect Brad and his father from Jonathan’s evil schemes.

  “As with all of Ms. MacMurrough’s novels, the tension, passion and mystery light up the pages, making this novel impossible to put down. The author has an uncanny knack for characterization and detail, and the romance and suspense sizzle and will delight any reader.” Evelyn Trimborn, Heedless Hearts

  Top 50 e book at Barnes and Noble, May 2001-November 2001, Rocket Format

  Amazon and Barnes and Noble reviews:

  Thrilling

  As clever as Shakespeare in Love, though obviously written long before it, this is the tale of Zaira Darcy and her bid to hold on to new-found love Brad even though she has been hurt before. Part taut mystery which will keep you guessing, part sizzling love story, this is one book you won’t want to end.

  Loved it!

  Great sizzle between the characters! Loved the heroine and the whole plot-Shakespeare in Love has nothing on this! I’m looking forward to reading more of this author!

  Terrific fun

  A really clever book, with two wonderful characters who meet and fall in love. The book seems an ordinary enough contemporary romance at first, but soon dark shadows from the past return to threaten both characters. Brad was to die for! A wonderful read.

  Super-a wonderful read

  I thought it this would be a straight contemporary, but it turned out to be a wonderful thriller romance. I loved the characters, and Brad is definitely the man of my dreams. The author’s settings in New York and Hollywood also added a touc
h of glamor. Boy, do the love scenes sizzle. Terrific.

  Brad is the sexiest thing on two legs!

  At last, I have met the man of my dreams! though sadly, only in a novel. but there has got to be someone out there like him somewhere!. I’ve read it twice in a row, I loved it so much! Am going to try all of her other books as well.

  Sorcha Mac Murrough

  Sorcha Mac Murrough has been writing stories since she could hold a pen. She has a degree in Irish history, from which she draws her inspiration. She lives in glorious rural Ireland, and loves cooking, hiking and calligraphy.

  Also by the author

  The Rakehell Regency Series

  The Mad Mistress

  The Missed Match

  The Miss Matched

  The Matchless Miss

  The Scarred Heart

  Guardian of the Heart

  The Mistaken Miss

  STAR ATTRACTION

  Sorcha MacMurrough

  HerStory Books

  To my best friend Darlene, and all the happy memories of our days at university.

  And to x, y, and z the models for Brad?….. You know who you are!

  Copyright the author 1998

  Second edition, 2003

  This edition 2008, published by HerStory Books with additional material

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-58345-037-6

  Her Story Books

  http://www.herstorybooks.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  Zaira Darcy raced across the foyer of the main university building. The first day of a new term, and she was already running around like a mad woman, she reflected ruefully. She saw one of the elevator doors about to close, and decided recklessly to sprint for it.

  But Zaira hadn’t calculated on another like-minded person charging for it as well. The collision knocked the wind out of her. Zaira's books and lecture notes went flying in every direction. It was only due to the presence of mind of the tall figure, who grabbed her by the elbows, that she wasn’t sent sprawling herself.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, look what I’ve done,” he drawled in a West Coast accent, as he pulled her up and steadied her.

  Zaira was so awestruck by the presence and physical beauty of the man that she could only gaze up at him mutely. Emerald green eyes caressed her own grey ones intimately before he eased her down onto one of the benches and went to retrieve her property.

  She sat gazing at the muscular back as it rippled through the black and purple UCLA sweatshirt he wore. She took in his long virile legs encased in black jeans. His hair was dark brown with intriguing reddish flashes, and curled softly at the nape of his neck. As he reached out, she saw the hands were strong and capable-looking, with each large enough to hold both of her own at the same time. He knelt by her gathering papers, and finally looked up into her face.

  Zaira grew embarrassed as her gaze lingered, but she could not take her eyes away from his twinkling green ones. The rest of his face was breath-taking as well. His lashes swept lushly over his fine deeply tanned cheekbones as he blinked, and his lips were full. Just right for smiling, or kissing, Zaira thought suddenly, and for a moment she thought her theory was about to be proven, for he moved upwards, and his mouth came within a few inches of hers.

  “I think I’ve got everything here, and I’m really sorry. I’d heard New Yorkers were always in a hurry, but I guess I found out the hard way,” he said with a grin. “And now I’ve probably made you late on top of everything else,” he added apologetically as he tried to sort her papers into some kind of order.

  “No, not really,” she heard herself lie, and wondered way her voice sounded so strange. “I was just making a bet with myself that I could get on that elevator, and I probably would have if we hadn’t bumped into each other.”

  Then she realized what she had said, and they both laughed.

  “Well, you’re pretty much the first person I’ve spoken to since I got here yesterday, so I’m sorry again, and it’s been a pleasure to meet you.” His voice lingered on the word “pleasure.”

  Zaira felt herself blush as the green eyes took her in from top to toe. She had felt very professional-looking in her grey pinstripe suit with her auburn hair tightly pinned into a demure chignon and her spectacles perched on the end of her nose, but under this alluring Californian’s scrutiny she felt stark-naked.

  “Don’t let me keep you,” Zaira asserted rather coldly, as she lifted the pile of books from the bench and held out her other hand for her papers.

  “You’re not,” he said with a smile, as he walked towards the lift, still holding her papers.

  Zaira had no choice but to follow, and as they stood in silence waiting for the elevator, she noticed him looking at the titles of some of her books.

  “Political Shakespeare? Drama within Drama? Never heard of them. How could Shakespeare be political? It’s only literature, isn’t it?” he said, sounding mildly interested but rather condescending. “Is that what they make you students read at this university?”

  “No one makes me read it, I make my students read it, and no, Shakespeare is not simply literature but an historical and a political document. All literature is solidly based on the concerns of the society in which it is produced, like male/female relationships, relationships between the classes, and other big political issues. Shakespeare would have never been successful on the stage or in print when the book of his plays was first published unless he’d been writing about things people were genuinely concerned about. All writing needs to appeal to people’s concerns, or else it won’t be successful except as the most light-weight of entertainments.”

  “Like films?” the infuriatingly handsome stranger asked her as the elevator door pinged open and they stepped inside.

  “Films can address many serious concerns, and there are of course excellent adaptations of Shakespeare, but unless it speaks to the audience in a new way, it won’t endure. Films too are a product of the society and culture that produce them. French films, for example, are very different from English, Russian or American films, aren’t they?”

  “They sure are,” the stranger replied with a smile, watching her intently.

  “Many of the best films are taken from novels, so obviously something appeals to the film-makers in these stories. They take it on trust that their audience will feel the same way, and therefore pay to see the film. But it isn’t merely entertainment, is it? It’s a huge money-making venture on the one hand, at its most basic level, but also in some cases even propaganda, making the public see the image the director and the cinematographer want us to see. It’s not true to life. If it were, they’d be making documentaries. So there's another level of art added to what is already artistic, and another level of politics to something which is already political,” Zaira explained patiently, warming to her subject, as well as her audience.

  They reached the tenth floor, and Zaira suddenly realized she was going to be dreadfully late if she didn’t get rid of him soon. “We’re on ten,” she said. “You aren’t lost, are you?”

  “I, um, no,” he said, with a blink and shake of his head. “I’m going to Room 1012.”

  “Right, well, it’s this way, the door next to mine,” Zaira said, leading him down the corridor. “You must be doing that new film studies course Brad Clarke is giving this term. I must admit I’ve never liked any of his films, but of course it’s a matter of taste.”

  The tall dark stranger hesitated for a moment in the corridor, and handed her back her papers abruptly. “Here you are, I’d better give you these,
or your students will get even more of the nonsense you’ve just been talking off the top of your head,” he sneered, before continuing down the corridor on his own.

  Zaira was astonished by his rudeness; he’d seemed so friendly, and genuinely interested in the things she’d been saying. She followed him and saw to her dismay that several reporters and students had gathered outside Room 1012, and were now taking photos of the gorgeous stranger.

  Oh no! she groaned inwardly. Of all the people in the universe she could have bumped into and insulted! Brad Clarke, Hollywood’s hottest new director, famous for his pride, arrogance and temper. Brad Clarke, famous for his womanizing, flamboyant lifestyle, and vast wealth. Brad Clarke, the man who was coming to see her tomorrow to discuss the novel she had written with a view to buying the movie rights!

  Reflecting that she couldn’t mend any fences now, since she was already very late for class, Zaira hastily trotted into her lecture hall and began to apologize, introduce herself, and go over the book list all in one breath.