Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
My answer is a sigh as I push myself further into his warm chest.
* * *
Tomorrow comes too quickly. The director of the shoot is less than delighted when I turn up at the studio with a bruise on my cheek. Jake’s eyes each time he’s looked at me have flashed with danger, making my instinct to cover the reminder of the awful night instinctive. But each time I’ve laid my palm over my cheek, he’s pulled it away and dipped to kiss the blemish.
Heather called me again last night to check up on me. Jake was still in my bed. She slipped into the conversation that Seb refused a trip to the hospital, and I know why. Any trace of Seb’s habit being detected by his parents or professionals and he’ll be carted back to rehab faster than Jake can draw his gun. Which is fucking fast. I’ve seen it only once and I never want to see it again. He looks formidable enough without a loaded weapon in his grasp.
I smile, thinking about how Jake couldn’t keep his hands off me for the rest of yesterday. He meant what he’d said. We didn’t leave my bed all day. Then the moment we left my apartment this morning, he was emotionless and professional. Almost hard and cold. His edginess was palpable, his body close to mine the entire journey here. His eyes were watchful on the drive, his attention trained on every bit of our surroundings. I’ve no doubt that it’s because today is three days since that threat was delivered. He’s hyperalert.
I drop my bag to the floor and keep still while Lawrence, the shoot director, fusses over my bruised cheek, wincing and mumbling under his breath. He doesn’t ask me how I came to have the corker of a mark, nor does he ask if I’m okay. His only concern is how to arrange the lighting and figure out how I can keep that side of my face angled away from the camera. I suspect makeup will take considerably longer this morning.
“We’ll airbrush if worse comes to worst,” he declares, clicking his fingers. A young brunette scurries over with a pallet of foundations and a brush. “Honestly, Camille,” he says, scornfully, letting the makeup artist at me. “This shoot has been scheduled for weeks. Fancy getting yourself all scuffed up.”
I roll my eyes to myself, clocking Jake by the doorway scowling at Lawrence. He doesn’t look happy, and when he strides over, I fear the worst. Lawrence gives Jake the once-over with wary eyes, while Jake accepts, coming to a stop beside us. I look at him while the makeup artist pats at my cheek with a brush loaded with concealer.
“Okay?” I ask, feeling tension building.
Jake grunts his reply, staring Lawrence down until the director backs off and twirls, barking some orders at his staff.
“Prick,” Jake spits, turning toward me. His eyes soften and he watches for a few moments as I’m poked at with a brush.
“It’s not so bad,” the makeup artist says, moving away from me and inspecting her handiwork. “Let’s get you into makeup so I can work my magic.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “Be there in a tick.”
She leaves us, and I find myself reaching for my cheek again when Jake’s eyes darken. He steps forward to do what he’s done every time I’ve tried to hide the bruise. He goes to take my hand, but doesn’t make it any farther than midway between our bodies. He looks around, remembering we’re in public, before withdrawing. “What’s the shoot for?” he asks.
“Perfume ad,” I tell him, pointing to the corner where an expanse of white screens are set up. “Clean and minimal scent by a new designer that complements her fashion line. The theme is clean and minimal, too. Silver on white.” I see interest creep onto his face as he takes in what I’ve said.
“Minimal theme?” he asks, homing in on that one little detail. “What does that mean?”
I laugh and collect my bag. “It means I won’t be wearing a lot.”
He stiffens from top to toe. “How much is not a lot?”
“A pair of knickers.”
His dark eyes go all round and worried as his hand comes up and gestures at my chest area. “And here?”
“Nothing.” I’m taking far too much pleasure from his evident alarm. It doesn’t matter that the camera angles will be manipulated to give a hint of full nudity without actually showing any of my bits. Jake doesn’t know that, and I’m enjoying playing with him.
“Nothing?” he asks, having a quick peek around to check no one is in close proximity. He’s safe. Everyone is too busy setting up. “Cami.” He steps forward, bringing his head down a little so he can whisper. “You’ve never posed nude and I’m not sure it’s a step your career will thank you for. The design stuff. That’s your thing. Don’t give up on it.”