Insert Groom Here

by K. M. Jackson

  Besides, she’d made it clear as she dismissed him from her bed—later, when both were satiated by multiple orgasms—that he was a quick rebound screw. Looking at her now, and not being some sort of caveman but an enlightened sort, he should respect that and just go with her flow. Sure, it was a pleasant surprise that sexually, little Miss Pearl Button-down turned out to be exactly his type and then some. But as for the rest? As for the two being compatible in any other way? No way. She might talk a good game, but she was ready to settle down into something stable. He could tell by the way she was giving it her all on this date with smooth Mr. Money. She was so dead set on the rule of image being everything and all that came along with it that it was seeping from her pores. She was practically lighting up like the tree at Rockefeller Center with this postcard-looking dude.

  Aidan knew, looking at her now, that there would be no way she could make it with him in a relationship that extended outside the confines of the bedroom. She was not the type who could deal with him being on the road and having to go where the stories went. She’d never understand how he lived for the rush of the adrenaline or how he’d hoped to really make a difference with the work he did. Hell, her work was all about putting a best face forward and covering up for A-list celebs and Fortune 500 companies. A woman like that was not for him, and he couldn’t let his “for the moment” wild feelings for her take him off of his game.

  So despite this twinge of jealousy and this crazy urge—Aidan peered closely at the retreating couple—to forcefully remove Quinton’s fingers from the small of Eva’s back, just like her he’d stick with the plan. It was a solid one. He would do his time working nine to five. He’d do what he had to do to make his father happy and make his mark with the board, and once that was done, he’d carry on with his life. But it would be solely on his own terms and this time with both his father’s and the board’s backing, getting them in line to do more programing that mattered and stepping back from pieces like this one. There was no way he’d be permanently tied to a desk or a woman. He was one for the open road, and just like he was filler, so to speak, for her, she, if truth be told, was the kitten that perfectly scratched a particularly annoying itch he’d currently had.

  As she turned away with Prescott, Aidan’s eyes skimmed over the outline of her perfect, heart-shaped behind as Prescott’s hand dared to slide lower. He almost growled out loud as their night together came back, hitting him at full force, and the primal instinct to strike threatened to take over. Jeez, she was almost too much to resist. The woman was going to drive him mad and mess up all he had mapped out.

  Aidan’s frown went deeper. Their encounter had been frosty when they’d first laid eyes on each other a few minutes before. From anyone else he would possibly have expected it, but from her it came as a bit of a surprise. They should be able to get through this both being cool and adult about things, but as soon as he saw her and tried to talk to her, his voice came out with hints of high school crush that made him inwardly cringe.

  “Hello, Miss Ward. You’re looking lovely today.” Lovely? Who the hell said that? Though she did, and it was honestly an understatement. She was gorgeous in the red dress Mitzi put her in for this date, but still, no need to get gushy.

  “Thank you, Walker. And thanks for your text update today. Your office is very . . . thorough.” Despite the summer heat, her voice could freeze vodka.

  “It wasn’t my office. I sent it myself.”

  The look she gave him was equally cool. “I gathered that.” She then looked around, landing on Lou, and smiled. “I think I have to go. It looks as if my date for the evening has arrived. Let’s hope he makes for better company than my last man.”

  The way she’d emphasized last man had him ready to all but snatch her back and demand to know her meaning. But of course he’d already gotten it, even if everyone else listening to the exchange was assuming she was talking about the gym rat from the other day. Good company his ass. As if he didn’t just days ago give her a goddamned, heart-dropping orgasm—a few, as a matter of fact.

  But what did it matter? Now he was stuck by the van, watching as she took long, sensual strides on the arm of a tall financier, the two of them silhouetted by the stunning architecture of the iconic opera house and the rushing water of the fountains. Aidan watched as Prescott leaned back, his own eyes taking in Eva’s perfect curves. Aidan felt his hands twitch. The memory of her smooth skin, hot to his touch, was still fresh. Prescott grinned wide at something Eva said, and Aidan looked around, kicking himself for not having on a headset yet. Crap. He looked at Eva as she laughed and they made their way into the New York landmark. Aidan’s eyes turned to Louisa, who was smiling—a rare sight while she was deep into her work. Hell, this couldn’t be good. It couldn’t be happening, could it? Week two, ten minutes in, and already Eva had found her Mr. Right? No way would he accept that.

  Calm down, man. It would be hours before they were out of the opera; there was no need for him to go inside while filming was going on. He was getting all he needed from the team that was inside. Also, the crew was supposed to be sparse. He had set it up so just Lou and Stan were inside to capture any good moments for the segment if they should happen to come up. They had already gotten a couple of shots of the cast during a dress rehearsal. The two of them could handle the intermission banter fine. In all honestly, he could go home or back to the office for a bit. Show his face, clear off some of the papers piling on the corner of his desk and make his father happy. But who was he fooling? After seeing her with Prescott, there was no way he was going back to the office and getting his take of this date through secondhand footage. No, he’d see how things went with his own eyes and judge for himself if the guy could pull an emotion out of her like he could.

  Hanging back in the van, Aidan tortured himself as he watched every moment, listened for every word along with the techs, Mitch and Dave. Eva was stunning as her face filled the bank of monitors. She elegantly sat in the chair Prescott pulled out for her in one of the opera house’s side luxury boxes, as if this sort of thing was an everyday occurrence. From where the cameras were set up, her face glowed, as though it was lit by soft candlelight, with high and low depths from the illumination of the stage. Her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks held a beautiful rosy glow, giving her an ethereal quality. She seemed to shiver a bit, and he watched as her eyes slid left and the camera smoothly panned to Prescott’s well-manicured hand; the overly perceptive ass had picked up on her discomfort and rubbed his paws over her bare shoulder and down her arm in what anyone could tell was a veiled attempt to get his hands on her.

  Prescott leaned in, and Aidan heard his voice come through his headset. “Are you cold? Would you like my jacket?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Eva’s voice was low and breathy. It was way too close a reminder of the breathy whispers and deep moans she have given him the other night. Stirrings of desire churned up in Aidan’s belly, and he fought to calm them down.

  Aidan turned to Mitch. “Are these levels good? I can hardly hear.”

  Mitch put down the gyro he’d picked up from the food truck outside with an annoyed sigh and looked at his control panels. “They’re fine. And really, why are we so worried over every word here? It’s not like this segment is going to run longer than three minutes.” He shook his head, then shot Aidan a look before taking a pull of his soda that let him know he didn’t like having his experience questioned, potential head honcho or not.

  Aidan shrugged. He got it, and Mitch was probably right, but still he wanted good audio as he watched Prescott remove his jacket and place it around Eva’s shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she said and gave him an easy smile, leaning back. The two watched the performance in silence, with barely any action until about forty-five minutes in when Prescott shifted. It was as if he’d had his move timed to go with the action on the stage, so that his little move happened as the music went to a full crescendo and the action on the stage became particularly dramatic. Sword fight
s, swooning sopranos, banging drums, and clashing symbols were all a backdrop for the casual Casanova to slide closer to Eva and slip his hand into hers at the right moment and bring her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. Lou made sure every movement was caught on camera and, yes, Mitch was right, the sound levels were perfect. Everything was on tape—from Prescott’s maneuvering to Eva’s surprised reaction as Prescott leaned in close to her ear. “It may be in Italian, but I think some things are universal.”

  Aidan couldn’t help his eye roll and was thankfully bolstered when both Mitch and Dave burst out laughing. “Was that corny or what?” Mitch cackled out, wiping at the lettuce that threatened to escape his mouth and hit his precious console.

  “It sure as hell is,” Dave said. “But I’ve got to give it to him for going for it. It’s no telling with women. Look, she seems to be eating it up.”

  Aidan’s blood heated as he watched Eva smile warmly and nod Prescott’s way. She really couldn’t fall for a stupid line like that one, could she? He watched as she turned back to the stage but now leaned in a little closer to Prescott; meanwhile, the actors played out a bloody fight scene, signaling that the intermission would be starting soon. There was a boom, and then the sound of symbols that were so loud both techs winced, pulling away their headphones. Aidan remained transfixed and didn’t even flinch. He watched, stoic, as the curtain went down and Eva slipped her hand from Prescott’s, joining the others in a thunderous applause.

  Oh hell. He really should just go. Why torture himself? Leave her to Prescott and the rest of the dates and go about his business. He had no real business being here anyway. This had nothing to do with his plans or his endgame. Still he stared at the screen, watching as the couple got up and the camera went in and out of focus, and for just a moment, he saw her let out a breath as she stretched her back as if she’d been holding it stiff for far too long. That tiny movement, when she didn’t feel she had to be on, and her faced relaxed reminded him of their night and what she could be. Aidan stepped out of the van and headed toward the concert hall.

  People crowded the atrium, everyone stunning and smiling and generally happy to see and be seen. Aidan wanted none of that. He scanned the intermission crowd, looking for his crew. He spotted Prescott over by the bar, gathering drinks, then he quickly shifted right and looked up to see Eva. Honing in as if trained on a signal from her red dress, he saw her going into the ladies’ room. There was no sign of Lou or Stan, who had probably had enough small talk for their tiny segment and were now getting ready for the next setup, when Prescott would return with the drinks. For reality TV, things on this show were pretty well scripted out. But now Aidan, fueled on complete irrationality, headed up the grand stairs and waited for her.

  What the hell was he doing? If anyone saw him there, that would be their first question, and though he was usually a quick thinker on his feet, he had no answer. He couldn’t very well answer, “I’m waiting for the talent to come out, so I can just be close to her for a moment, get a rise out of her, and remind her of the mind-blowing sex we had the other night.” All were true, but all were unacceptable answers. Aidan looked at his watch and ignored the odd look he got from a pinched-faced woman with dripping diamonds as she left the ladies’ room. No worries, ma’am, I’m not casing the place. He hoped his nod to her said that, but based on the way she practically sprinted away, with her clutch held tightly to her chest, he didn’t think it had worked. Where was Eva?

  Finally, she walked out. She held her head down at first, but when she looked up, he couldn’t deny the instant sexual charge he got as her eyes widened and then narrowed at the sight of him. He put his finger to his lips, stepped forward, and leaned in close to her delicate ear. “Don’t talk,” he whispered, “the mic will pick it up.” She pulled back and glared. He could see her color rising and the fact that she was fighting to keep it in check, as throngs of people milled around them. He could tell she’d just realized that she’d forgotten to turn off the mic when she’d gone to the bathroom, and now the rest of the crew had heard her use the toilet. Not that they cared or paid any real attention. When it was a crowd of this size, all murmuring at once, they weren’t looking for those types of sounds. Aidan took in her features—her eyes on fire, nostrils flaring, ready to rant—and in that moment, it was all he wanted. He looked around and saw a side exit, grabbed her hand, and pulled her in.

  The door closed behind them with a satisfying click. Aidan instantly went down on his knees in front of her, delighted by her sharp intake of breath. He reached up and lifted her dress up to her thighs. The delicious scent of her right in front of him had him wanting to close his eyes and bury his face into her. But no. He flipped her around quickly and reached to the back of her dress and switched off the mic before turning her back around and coming to his feet. Eva opened her mouth wide, about to let go, when he leaned in and kissed her, hard, pulling her into him and taking all he could in the seconds he had. He felt his chest expand as his dick hardened when, rigid at first, she finally relented and kissed him back, her lush body going soft against his. She opened her mouth, and once again he tasted that sweet honey, and he felt like he could happily feast on it forever. Finally, he pulled back and breathed in deep. The silence between them hung loud and long as they stared at each other. He moved in close to her once again, and this time she backed up, pressing in hard against the wall. Aidan remained still. He held up his hands and leaned in again, so close to her ear only she’d be able to hear, mic or no mic. He didn’t want those outside to know they were there. “I want you. Please say you’ll have me tonight.”

  He pulled back and looked at her.

  Eva just stared as the quiet loomed between them and she gave him a look that simmered with both desire and rage. Then suddenly the lights flickered, even in the stairway, indicating intermission was over. Once, twice. Aidan turned her around again to go back to his knees to flip her mic on. “You know, there is an easier way to do that,” she said. “My dress is pretty low in the back, and it has a zipper. You don’t have to go down that way.”

  Aidan looked up at her. “Maybe I like it when you have me on my knees.” He saw the hint of a smile as she shook her head, then pulled the dress down, but she didn’t answer him. He came up as the lights flicked again, and she kissed him before whispering in his ear.

  “I don’t even like you like that, Aidan Walker.”

  Aidan closed his eyes briefly, then leaned in to nip at her ear and answer her back. “Oh yes, you sure as hell do.”

  She laughed and pulled out of his reach.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she replied before disappearing back into the venue’s hallway.

  * * *

  Eva slipped back into their box after refreshing her lipstick and gave Quinton a brief apology.

  “Are you okay?” He asked his eyes full of questions she had no intention of answering.

  She pasted on a well-trained smile. “I’m fine. I needed an extra moment in the ladies’ room away from the crowd. I’ve come down with a sudden headache, so I took a few aspirin. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine.”

  She sat in her seat and looked forward, though somehow feeling the heat of a thousand eyes on the back of her neck. Once again, Quinton placed his jacket around her shoulders. She turned, giving him a nod of thanks. But still, she could feel another presence hot and insistent on her swollen lips, making breathing difficult and concentration almost impossible. She turned and looked at the camera; it was as if he were right there. Watching her every move. Honing in on her every emotion. She was a fool for having had that night with him. And a damn fool for thinking she could have it and then they could both just get over it like it was no big deal, while he watched her go on orchestrated dates with other men like their night had never happened. Eva’s heart was racing with the thought of him on the other side of the camera, just out of her reach, picking up on everything she said and did.

  Eva looked past the camera to Louisa, and she
was hit with the woman’s tight jaw and jutting chin. The narrowing of her eyes told Eva she didn’t buy her excuses about a headache. Not at all. There was a reason she had this job. This woman was no dummy. But no matter. There was no way Eva would cower or lower her eyes and give herself away any further to any more of the crew. She looked at Louisa straight on and gave her a smile. She indicated the empty chair in the corner of the box. “Why don’t you take a load off, Louisa? You have to be getting tired yourself.”

  “No need to worry about me. I can do tired when I’m dead.” Louisa narrowed her eyes, turned, and grabbed a tissue. She reached out toward Eva’s neck. As Eva pulled back, Lou leaned in close so only she could hear her. “I’m fixing your makeup. You seem to have smudged lipstick onto your neck . . . somehow.”

  Eva felt the heat climb up her neck; she hoped it didn’t show in her face. As calmly as she could, she snatched the tissue from Louisa’s hand and wiped at the side of her neck. For the briefest of moments she let her eyes drift back to the camera and gave it a glare before turning to face forward toward the stage once again.

  She hoped he was watching. Something in her told her that of course he was.

  Damned Aidan. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough, he had to go and complicate it further.

  More and more, she regretted the day she had stepped into WBC’s studios. Or at least that was the line she was telling herself.

  Chapter 14

  Aidan should have regretted going after Eva, but for the life of him—and after that kiss—he couldn’t drum up enough reasons on the regret side of the board to get behind that particular emotion.

  The feelings were too strong, the taste of her way too good, so much so that he knew he’d do what he had to do to steal what moments he could for however long he had.

  And yeah, sure, she’d given him her directives about it being a thing for that one night and all that, but if her response to him in the stairway was any indication of her feelings, there was definitely room for negotiation in that area of their verbal agreement. He may have been temporarily thrown by her initial declaration and followed her advice, staying away from her as she’d directed, but that was only because his head was a little fuzzy after their amazing night together. Thus he had made the mistake of blindly following her lead.