by Nana Malone
He tightened his jaw. “You need to know I’m not that person. If I’d known, I never would have—“ He inhaled deeply. “You were my girlfriend. It wasn’t like you said. I’m not a monster, for fuck’s sake. I loved you. I still care about you. But I can’t have you saying these things about me.”
“So what? You plan on shutting me up somehow? You’ve already done the worst thing you can to me.”
“No. I just want to make sure we can work together. That’s all. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
I raised a brow. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. As for working together, you can forget about it. There is no way in hell.” I tried to brush past him, but he reached out and snagged my upper arm.
“Imani—”
A voice from the auditorium door interrupted Ryan. “Ellison, I’ll be needing our star now.”
The ice in Xander’s voice chilled me to the bone. How much had he heard? Ryan’s grip tightened for a moment, then he released me. “We were just catching up on old times.” His voice dripped with venom, and he glared at Xander.
Xander leaned into the open doorway, his camera slung around his neck. He looked entirely relaxed, but there was something in the way he narrowed his gaze at Ryan that told me he was anything but. Ryan shoved past us, leaving us in the doorway.
We all stood like that as if in a silent play. But finally, Ryan exited through the main entrance. Even with him gone, I didn't relax. “I guess you’re ready for me?” I asked him quietly.
Xander nodded slowly. "If you're done making out with your boyfriend, I'll need you on stage.”
I flinched as I thought about how we must have looked. “Not your business.”
His voice low, he said, “Even after what happened between us last night? Tell me, can he make you come like I did last night?”
I scowled at him.
“I’ll take that as a no. Just tell me, what are you doing with that cunt?”
Did he really think I wanted to be there with Ryan? To have his hands all over me? I spoke through clenched teeth. “Screw you.”
Xander smirked. “Does last night count? Because I feel like we’ve already done that.”
In that moment, I wasn’t sure who I hated more, Ryan or Xander. As I walked toward the stage, I heard a voice behind me. “He’s kind of an ass sometimes. But I promise you, he has some redeeming qualities. You just have to find them.”
I glanced up when Abbie joined me in the aisle. “I assume you mean Xander. And if that’s the case, I’m going to have to take your word for it.”
“I wasn’t the biggest fan of his when I met him either, but he grows on you.” The other girl nodded reassuringly. “Like a fungus.”
Despite the morning I was having, I laughed. “Thanks. I was sort of in need of that.”
“Anytime. His heart’s mostly in the right place. He can just be an ass sometimes.”
“I don’t know how you manage to work with him.”
“Between the women literally running over me to throw themselves at him, to the assitude we just discussed, I expect canonization any day now.” I wondered if I’d gotten it wrong. Maybe the two of them weren’t a thing. Or at the very least, as far as Abbie was concerned.
“You’ve got my vote.” We climbed the stairs to the stage. “Where do you want me?”
“We’ll start with you on the Fleet Street set first, over here. If you don’t mind, let’s sit you on the edge of the desk.” Set design had been working for months already, so luckily some of the sets were already in working order.
“Sure thing.”
While Abbie arranged me, she whispered. “Look, I know you don't know me, but I have to ask, mostly because I wish someone had asked me. Are you okay? You know, with Ryan. I wasn’t spying or anything, but I saw how he grabbed you in the courtyard.”
Heat suffused my face. “Great, did everyone see?”
Abbie shook her head. “No. I was about to come out there when Xander stepped in. I just know what it’s like to need someone to ask me if I was okay.”
“Truth?”
My new friend nodded.
“Probably not. But I will be.”
“Okay, but uh, if you need someone to talk to, I’m around. I know what it’s like to date, or to have once dated, the wrong guy.”
I rapidly blinked the tears out of my eyes. I had a hard time believing this confident girl had once been like me. “Ryan was a mistake I made a long time ago. Never to be repeated.”
Abbie nodded. “Glad to hear it. Offer stands anyway.”
Where was this girl two years ago when I was desperate for someone to talk to? “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Listen, if you want, some of us are headed out tonight. You should come. You look like you could use some fun to take your mind off today.”
Fun. That hadn’t been part of my vocabulary for a while. I still had to figure out how to help Ebony. But a night out wouldn’t kill me. Maybe if I were less stressed, I’d come up with a better solution to my problem. “That actually sounds like a good idea.”
Chapter Nine
Xander
The last place on Earth I wanted to be was at this club tonight. From start to finish, the whole fucking day had been shite. Not entirely true. It had started well with Imani in my arms, but from there it went completely downhill.
I’d started out the day desperate to have her. But then she’d vanished on me. Only to resurface in the one place I didn’t need her. Complete with a twat of a boyfriend. Fuck. This shite would only happen to me.
I hadn't meant to act like a total arse, but seeing her there had thrown me for a loop. All I wanted was a chance to have a private conversation with her. But I’d had a job to do. And Abbie hadn't really left my side for most of the shoot. No real time to say, Hey, about last night. You know when you pretended to be a hooker and gave me the hottest orgasm I’ve had in years. I’d like a repeat.
And by the time I’d finished with the rest of the cast she was long gone. I was still holding out hope for Miriam, but she hadn't texted or called me back all day.
At least I knew where to find her, though Charles had said proper rehearsals wouldn’t start for another two weeks. So the timing was bad. I needed her help in less than a week.
The music blared, the latest hip-hop track mashed up with house music underlying it. All of Alexi’s friends had come out to congratulate the happy couple. The idea that my little brother was getting married still seemed insane to me. When had he grown up?
"You look like you are in need of another drink."
It was hard not to smile at the infectious blonde with the bubbly personality and the Geordie accent. Faith was one of Abbie’s best friends and spent a good deal of time at the studio, in particular when there were male models being shot. "Thanks, Faith, but I've probably had enough."
"At my count, two is hardly enough to celebrate with. You at least need another. Come on, try a screaming orgasm with me," she said with a wink.
My brows shot up. Was she flirting with me? It was always hard for me to tell these days.
"Oh, Faith, leave the poor man alone." Sophie, another friend of Abbie’s, slid between us. "He needs to work up a thirst first; let's go dance."
Sophie slid her hand into mine and tugged me to the center of the VIP section. I wasn’t in the mood, but for Lex and Abbie, I could put on a brave face. I snuck a glance in their direction and the smile on my brother’s face as he watched his fiancée said it all. He was a completely blissed-out twat, and it couldn’t have happened to a better man. Certainly not you.
Sophie was fun and enthusiastic. She also had a way of attracting attention. Before I knew it, several blokes were dancing on the periphery, trying to get her to dance with them. Suckers. She might dance like a free woman, but her boyfriend, Max, was never far away.
The DJ changed the music again to something groovier, and I leaned into her. "I'm going to head out for some fresh air. I'll see you back at the table." She nodde
d and waved at me.
What I wanted to do was make my escape. But that wasn’t fair to Lex or Abbie. I could suck it up for an hour or two. I sidled up to the bar, signaling for the bartender. If I was going to stay, there was no reason I had to do it sober. To my right, a curvy brunette looked me up and down.
“I was wondering if you were ever going to come over and talk to me,” she said with a sly smile.
She wasn't my usual type. Who was I kidding? Most of the time, I didn't have a type beyond beautiful. And I could find something beautiful about nearly every woman I came across. At the same time, she was brasher than I liked. “Well, a beautiful woman like you doesn’t strike me as the type to sit around and wait to be hit on. You seem like a go-getter.”
She grinned. “So, you were waiting for me to come and get you then?”
Under normal circumstances, I’d be all about this woman. She was beautiful, available, and didn’t require much work. Best of all, she wouldn’t require a repeat performance. But somehow, I couldn’t stir up much interest. This is what you need. Maybe last night wasn’t a fluke. But even as the thought ran through my skull, I knew that was a lie. I could do the easy thing, go home with this girl, revel in her curves, try to forget. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Because unlike last night, I felt absolutely zero connection to this girl. She wasn’t Imani.
“Tonight, I’m just here to drink.”
Full of confidence, she pressed up against me. She reached out and palmed my semi-erect cock, forcing a choke out of me. “You’re sure that’s all you want to do?”
Without knowing what I was looking for, I searched the crowd. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. It was then that I saw her. Imani. She grinned, waving at Abbie, who stood and hugged her. I could only stare in shock as Abbie introduced her around and my brother kissed her on the cheek. Traitor. What the hell was she doing here?
I removed the curvy brunette’s hand from my groin. “Sorry, love, but like I said, not tonight.” My instincts didn’t bother to engage my brain in the conversation. I couldn’t have walked in the opposite direction if I tried. When I reached her, she looked up and gave a startled jump.
"Karma really is a bitch. Seriously, why can’t I escape you?"
I grinned. “You must have done something very naughty in a past life. Or maybe just last night. You’re crashing my brother’s party.”
She cocked her head. “You should probably look up the definition of crashing. I was invited by Abbie.”
“You and I never got a chance to talk. You know, because you ran out on me.”
She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and licked her bottom lip. “What’s there to talk about?”
“You mean, besides how we met last night? Or what you look like when you come with my name on your lips? Or how I’ve come to know about that cute little mole on your left breast. Or maybe how your puss—”
Her eyes went wide. “Would you shut up before somebody hears you?” Her gaze skittered around.
She was way too easy to rile up.
She slid her gaze back to me as she lowered her voice. “Look, I would rather no one find out about…” She waved her left hand. “You know.”
I feigned ignorance. “Oh, you mean the whole escort thing.”
“Shut. Up,” she muttered through clenched teeth as she put her hand on my chest and shoved. I didn't budge, but the heat of her palm seared my chest.
“Relax. Jesus, thank God you weren’t nearly this uptight last night. All I need is ten minutes. Hear me out, then you never have to talk to me again.”
“I seriously want to forget that last night ever happened. I was an idiot. I know it. I don't understand why you won’t just be like every normal guy I know and avoid me like the plague.”
Because right now, you’re the only one who can make me come. "Follow me."
She followed willingly enough as I tugged her through the crowd and up the stairs to the rooftop. Even though it was only April, the weather was balmy and warm. And despite the fact that we were on a rooftop in the middle of London, it was as though we’d been transported to a lush greenhouse. This was the best feature of the club in my opinion. I loved it up there so much I often chose it for shoots.
She stared in awe at all the flowers and touched several delicate petals. “What am I doing up here, Xander?”
"Better question, why were you in my flat last night?"
She tipped her chin up to meet my gaze. "I'm not a whore."
The air whooshed out of my lungs, and my head snapped back as if she'd physically slapped me. "I fucking know that. What did you think? I was chasing you down to make sure you took your money? What is it you Yanks would call me? Captain Save-a-ho? Not fucking likely. I’m no one’s savior. I've dealt with a lot of escorts in my life, and I knew from the moment I touched you, you weren't one."
Her bottom lip trembled. "Then what do you want from me?"
I took three steps until I stood directly in front of her. With every exhale, I could feel her warm breath on my cheeks. “For starters, I want you to tell me what you were doing there. We’ve established you’re not a whore. That makes what you were doing even riskier. I think we can both agree that meeting some strange bloke at his flat for ‘talking’ is a huge lapse in judgment.”
She lifted a brow. “Really, you want to do this?”
I crossed my arms. There was nothing I liked more than when her eyes sparked with fire.
She sighed. “At first it was for the role. Research. But then, I was fucking desperate. Miriam made it sound too good to be true. And so easy. All I had to do was show up and talk to you and I could get the money I needed.” She puffed out a breath. "Well, you know what happened next."
“Why didn’t you take the money? You said you needed it.”
“In the morning…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. “I didn’t like how I felt. I wasn’t that desperate.” She shook her head. “And what happened. I didn’t plan it—it wasn’t like that.” Then she added a question of her own. “Why do you see hookers? You, ah, obviously don’t need to.”
If she only knew. “I don’t pay escorts for sex."
She frowned as she peered back up at me. "Then why?"
"Because they're less judgmental than shrinks."
Her laugh was humorless. "And I thought I was fucked up."
"Here's the secret, sweetheart. Everyone is fucked up." Something in her expression was soft, vulnerable. I lifted fingers to her cheek and traced softly. "What is it about you that makes me feel like this?"
She blinked in confusion. "I'm not doing anything. I don’t know how I'm making you feel."
I traced a thumb over her cheekbone. "You know. You feel it too."
She ducked her head. “Are we done?”
I licked my lips and let her go. “Not yet. I have a proposition for you.”
“You know they’ve already done an Indecent Proposal movie, right? It’s a classic.”
Despite myself, I smirked. “Just hear me out. I need someone to go to Paris with me for four days.”
Her brows rose. “See earlier comment about me not being a whore.” She took a deliberate step away from me. "You know, you're very good. You almost had me believing that bit about how I made you feel. But let me say it again and this time do try to listen. I. Am. Not. A. Whore. You are not Richard Gere, and clearly, I am no Julia Roberts. You don’t get a girlfriend experience."
“I need someone to pose as my girlfriend for four days. I’m not expecting anything in return. No sex. Just hang on my arm, socialize. Make me look good. I’ll pay you five thousand pounds.” I held up my hands and pressed on when she frowned. “Think of it as an acting job. Plain and simple.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Who would I be pretending for?”
“The board and president of the London Artistic Trust. I need to appear settled and reformed from my bad-boy ways. It’s very important that I make it onto this board.”
“Why?”
No way I was going into that now. “It’s complicated, but trust me, it’s important. Life and death important.”
She shook her head. “Look, I don’t think—”
“I’m desperate. I’m willing to beg.”
Imani’s gaze slid around the roof as she started to pace. “But you have Miriam. You could take her. She’s used to playing the girlfriend.”
She has a point, you git. “I know, but for better or worse, the chemistry with us is real. Palpable. Any idiot can see it. It’ll help sell it to LeClerc. Secondly, you seem to need the money. It’s a win-win. And I’ll keep my hands to myself. You’ll be perfectly safe with me.”
She scoffed. “As if. Why can’t you take Abbie?”
I laughed. “Well, since she’s about to become my sister-in-law, that will hardly make it look like I’m a reformed bad boy.” Frustrated, I ran my hands through my hair. “I can call Miriam, but I’d rather see that money go to you.”
A slight frown creased her forehead. “Sister-in-law? Seriously?” She shook her head. “You don’t even know me.”
She had a point there. “Truth?”
She nodded.
“You’re the first person I’ve connected to in so long I can’t even remember.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t about sex.”
“It’s not.” I started to sweat. “It’s more about someone who understands me. Paris will be a test of improv skills. There are a few people who don't want me on the board, and they will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen. You’re quick on your feet. You have a smart mouth. And I promise you, if we sleep together, it'll have nothing to do with the money."
Her eyes went wide as she studied me while crossing her arms. "Are you planning on trying anything?"
I wisely bit back a laugh. "Well, I'm a bloke. So, of course, I’ll think about touching you again. But those are errant thoughts; my focus is this job. I need you to pull it off. So that will be my focus, not getting you wet and writhing underneath me again."
