“Definitely. All things Christmassy, remember? And I’ll be fine on my own. I’m going to take the longest, hottest, bubbliest bath in the history of the world and just chill out here ’til you get back.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes! Now go, or you’ll be late, and they’ll write nasty things about how much of a diva you are.”

He laughed and gave her another quick kiss. She was tempted to turn it into a much longer kiss, and maybe something more illicit, more of what had taken up most of last night, but she really didn’t want him to be late. She waved him off from the door of the suite and shut it quietly behind him. “God, he’s just so …” she said aloud, followed by a guttural “grrr”.

Basking in the first moments of solitude she’d had in what seemed like forever, she practically skipped to the bathroom where she turned on the water to fill the giant bath. “Who knew I’d come to think of hot water as a luxury,” she murmured. While the tub was filling, she foraged around her toiletries bag for a sheet mask and some hair treatment.

She slid out of the fluffy bathrobe, hung it on a hook, then wet her hair in the shower with the handheld nozzle. In front of the mirror, she slathered on the thick, creamy hair treatment, then from the selection of Four Seasons bath salts, chose the cinnamon-scented one and sprinkled it liberally into the bath. It was nearly ready.

She tore open the foil of the face mask, unpeeled it, and pressed it onto her face. “If you could see me now, Archer …” She giggled at her reflection, knowing that there was no way in the world he was ever going to see her looking like that.

The bath was three-quarters full, and she turned off the tap before stepping in carefully and stretching out along its length. The water came up right under her chin and, with a satisfied groan, she let her arms bob gently in the fragrant water as the water sluiced through her fingers. She closed her eyes, slipping into a luxurious doze.

“Who the hell are you?” shouted a brash American female voice.

Chloe’s eyes flew open, her battle to sit upright in the deep and slippery tub causing a tsunami of bath water to cascade over the edge onto the floor. It took a moment for her to realise where the voice had come from and when she looked behind her at the bathroom door, she was more surprised than when she’d opened Cecily’s front door to Archer.

Madison Strumpet was in her hotel room.

What the actual fuck?

In the few moments Chloe hesitated while she struggled to comprehend what was happening, Madison strode into the bathroom and stood tub-side glaring down at Chloe. “I said, who are you? Besides the skank he was kissing in those photos.”

Ouch. It had been easy enough to forget about her likeness being splashed across the internet when it was just her and Archer, but Madison’s words were like a slap. And not only was Chloe naked, her head was slathered in in goop and she was wearing a flaccid hockey mask. She may have felt amazing only moments before, but she knew she looked a sight. Madison, however, looked every bit of the million dollars she earned per movie, and just like the girlfriend of the world’s biggest film star.