Starstruck: Hollywood Heat, Book 3 Read Online Free Page A

“Guess that’s my cue.” Normally right before going on stage she was abuzz with excitement, but now all she felt was disappointment in having to say goodbye to Micah again.
    “Do you mind if I stick around?”
    The buzz came back, multiplied by a thousand. “I’d really like that. We’re a full-service joint—dinner, drinks, entertainment. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
    “How long are you working?”
    “Two hours.”
    “Then I think that’s how long I’ll stay.” His grin came out for a quick cameo appearance. “And I promise to keep my arms to myself when you walk by.” He held each of his shoulders as though he were wearing a straitjacket.
    She laughed. “That’s a promise I won’t hold you to. After all, I might want to run into you again.” With a wink and a swing of her hips, she went toward table 43.
     
    Watching Jenna walk away, Micah released a long breath. Damn. He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in… He was going to say years, but had he ever been this bowled over before?
    Not likely. He’d never been so caught up in a woman that he’d hunted her down to spend more time with her. Then again, he’d never had to. Women came to him. Women wanted to be with Micah the actor. Micah the celebrity. He got laid because he was Micah Watley, a star .
    What a fucking joke. No, he was a fucking joke. He’d been acting for thirty years—since he was two years old—and somewhere in that time, Micah Watley, the man, the human being, had ceased to exist.
    Until today. For a few minutes, sitting with Jenna in holding then talking to her now, he’d felt like a real person again. Like he was more than just the sum of his parts. More than a fake doctor in a fake world full of fake people who didn’t give a damn about him, only what he could give them.
    It was a hell of a thing, to feel human again.
    He couldn’t forget who he was though. He slid his sunglasses back on and tugged his hat down low. Tonight, he didn’t want to be noticed. Tonight, he wanted to be a normal guy, pursuing a girl. A genuine, honest, compelling, sweet, sexy girl.
    Fuck, was she sexy, and not in the overdone, over-primped, fake-breast, fake-smile, fake-person way the industry churned out. Even dressed as Marilyn Monroe, acting the sex kitten, Jenna emanated an innate sweetness, enthusiasm and passion for life that made him want her more.
    He wanted all of her passion unleashing on him.
    His attention shot to the stage when “Marilyn” was announced. The patrons at the tables applauded, the lights in the room dimmed and Jenna walked out and began to sing.
    Damn. Her throaty, whiskey-whisper voice was the perfect soundtrack to his fantasies. She owned the stage. No, she owned the entire restaurant, him included. The only time he remembered to eat the food he’d ordered was during the few numbers Jenna didn’t participate in.
    To the rest of the crowd, she was Marilyn Monroe. And while she was good—damn good, actually, mimicking the actress, singer, sexpot in voice, body language and nuance—Micah never stopped seeing Jenna. She had it , an energy, a buzz, an enthusiasm for performing that no amount of training could give an actor. She alone lit up the stage more than the bright spotlight beaming down on her.
    That scared him. Because if she continued to pursue an acting career, her spark would slowly fade away. Just like his had.
    Two hours after she climbed on stage, Jenna sang her last song, “Do It Again”. While their eyes had met off and on throughout the evening, this time when she sang to him about her aching lips and taking the kiss that was waiting, he hoped it was more than just part of her performance. Because at the very least he planned on kissing her tonight.
    As the final notes faded away, the crowd filled the silence with their cheers. Micah joined them, rising to his feet, loving the smile that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. The rest of the cast met Jenna for