Captivate, book I of the Love & Lust

by Miles, Amy

  “The new bloke tried to charge me again, Slade. You gotta sort him out, mate.”

  “I will, Bennet. Thomas is just feelings things out, is all.” Slade gulps down the dark beer and sighs. It will be good to have his friends here to help him forget how anxious he is over not hearing back from the photo shoot.

  It’s been an entire day. Surely, they’ve already chosen a guy by now, and if that’s true, then that means he wasn’t the one selected.

  He takes another gulp of the cold beer and pushes away that thought. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Slade tries not to think of how stuffy the overcrowded room feels. “So you got hung up? Probably saw a fit bird on the tube, didn’t you?”

  A wide, toothy grin stretches across Sean’s face. He leans forward to yell over the music. “Nah, we just stopped to get you a little present.”

  Slade is instantly suspicious. His friends are notorious for pulling pranks and yanking his chain every chance they get. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

  He holds up his hands in defense as Sean pulls a brown bag from the seat of his pants and holds it out to Slade. “Just take it.”

  The package feels odd to him, flat but pliable. He opens the bag and peers in, his brow furrowing with confusion. “You bought me a book?”

  Bennet laughs and nods, enjoying the inside joke. “We thought you might like some… light reading.”

  Slade glances at each of his friend’s faces and groans. Whatever this book is, they are all enjoying this way too much. “What is it? Some sort of sex book? Because you guys know I’ve already got plenty of tricks.”

  “Just open it,” Sean presses, no longer trying to hide his laughter.

  Slade pulls the book from the bag and his eyes widen in surprise. “Liam’s Seduction?”

  “Yep.” Liam grins, puffing out his chest. “I really like the title, don’t you?”

  Slade stares at the half-naked guy and girl on the cover. They are pressed intimately against a wall, her leg bared and wrapped around his waist. It’s hard not to notice the flaming red curls that fall about the woman’s shoulders. Her face may be buried in the bloke’s chest, but there is no doubt that Tamsin is the model on the front cover. “Looks like a bit of fun, but what’s this got to do with me?”

  Bennet reaches across the table and points to the author’s name: Tamsin Archer.

  Slade presses back into the seat, suddenly realizing their intent. “Are you having a laugh? Who told you?”

  His mates burst out laughing, pounding the table so hard they send their beer sloshing over the side.

  “Sean!” He growls. “You’re a right git, you know that?”

  “Hey.” His friend raises his hands in defense. “It was just too good to keep to myself, mate.”

  “I can’t believe you.” Slade tosses the book onto the table, glad to see the pages starting to soak up the spilled foam.

  Bennet rescues the book and opens it to somewhere in the middle. His lips tug up into a smirk as his gaze speeds across the black-and-white print on the page. “Oh, this is my favorite line.”

  He clears his throat and lifts the book high, as if he were about to begin narrating a play. “Rebecca’s hands trail down from his shoulders, her fingers curling just enough to graze her fingernails over his chest. His skin flushes as he strains against the leather casings binding his wrists. Heat floods through his body as he moans, aching to touch her. Her hands sink lower. With slow precision, she slowly unbuckles his belt and she drops his pants. THUD.”

  Bennett’s eyebrows wiggle as he winks suggestively. “It’s gets much better. Want me to continue?”

  “No,” Slade growls, snatching the book out of his hand.

  Sean leans back in his chair, balancing on two legs as he downs another swig of frothy beer. “I think you’re mental for doing that photo shoot, mate. Sorry to tell you that, but did you even read this stuff before you went? Gives guys a bad name, it does.”

  “Of course I didn’t,” Slade snaps. “Because someone didn’t read the bloody ad correctly and left me to look like a wanker when I showed up. What was I supposed to do? Just leave and miss what could be the biggest opportunity in my life?”

  “That’s messed up,” Liam snorts. His buzzed head, nose ring, and sleeve tattoos give him a bad boy look that is all gimmick and little authenticity. Liam has a knack for picking all the wrong girls and even if he could find the right one, she probably wouldn’t give him the time of day.

  Bennet leans in closer, his forearm sticking on the tabletop. The snake tattoo on his left shoulder distorts as he rolls his shoulders forward to speak in a low voice. “So was she hot?”

  “Who?” Slade asks, confused by the sudden derail in topic.

  “Tamsin. I hear she’s totally fit. Do you think she fancies you?”

  “Maybe.” Slade grins, offering him an indifferent shrug but nothing more. He lounges against the bench seat, enjoying the desperation on his friends’ faces. “Might explain why she couldn’t keep her hands off me.”

  “Wicked. We need details.” Sean punches him on the arm.

  “Do you, now?” Slade downs another gulp of his beer. “Seems like that shouldn’t be something to share with the likes of you. What would your mums think?”

  His mates hoot with laughter and Slade grins, thankful the attention has been pulled away for the moment. Leave it to a hot girl to get his friends’ minds off topic and firmly seated in the gutter.

  Bennet Davies, a close neighbor since primary school, downs the final dredges of his dark ale and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Come on. You gotta at least admit her writing is crap. How many guys’ ‘members’ do you know that can quiver that like?”

  Guess he should have known that the topic of a hot girl would lead to the typical begging for intimate details. It’s no surprise that his friends have lived vicariously through him for several years now. Working in a popular London club, Slade has always had his pick of American tourists, cougars, and bad breakup rebounders. Afterward, he’s usually rewarded with a pint with his mates for dishing the dirt on his newest conquest.

  Sean snorts, choking on his beer. Bennet whacks him on the back but continues to look at Slade. “It really is poorly written porn. Where the heck are the threesomes? The slutty schoolgirls in uniforms? Now that would be good reading!”

  Slade rolls his eyes and leans back into the wooden bench, stretching his legs out under the table. He laces his fingers together and rests his head against the wall. “Okay, so it wasn’t exactly what I thought it was going to be, but it’s a great opportunity for me. Tamsin Archer is a big-time author and it’s not like I’ve had much luck breaking into the modeling industry.”

  At twenty-four, he’s had dismal success landing a gig. The modeling agencies all love his look. “You’ve got great potential” is the line he has heard so many times he wants to shove it down their pompous throats, but where have their sentiments landed him? Right here drinking with his friends in a pub. Not exactly the life he had envisioned for himself.

  “What sort of gig was this?” Sean asks, breaking into Slade’s thoughts. He raises his hand to signal for another round.

  Slade really hopes Sean doesn’t think this round is on him too. His bank account hasn’t been in the black for nearly three weeks. He really needs to get this photo shoot job or his own mum will start complaining about rent.

  “Did you get to reenact a steamy scene with Tamsin? I’ve heard she does all of her own cover shoots.”

  A sly grin stretches along Slade’s face as he shrugs and reaches out to grab a pint from Thomas’s tray as he passes by. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see what the cover looks like.”

  Five

  Ashlyn cries out as Tamsin flops onto the couch beside her. The pile of papers she spent the last seven hours working on launch into the air. They flutter to the ground in one big disorganized pile.

  “Was that really necessary?” Ashlyn clenches her jaw as she stoops lo
w to collect her fallen work, realizing Slade Collins’s headshot was right at the top of the pile. She rushes to stuff it somewhere in the middle.

  Her blood pressure is usually a rollercoaster ride when Tamsin is around. Working with her may be a great opportunity, but sometimes she can be a real headache.

  “How can you even question me at a time like this?” Tamsin sniffs as she tosses her arm over the back of the seat and turns to face Ashlyn.

  The room is spacious for a downtown London hotel. A single window lets in the dreary overcast afternoon light through sheer white curtains. The en suite bathroom is large enough that she can get out of the tub without banging her head on the toilet seat. Even the noise of the London traffic outside her room is properly muffled.

  Compared to American standards, this suite would appear cramped with its seating area just a scant few feet from the bed, but it suits Ashlyn’s needs nicely. At least until someone else comes into the room and starts wreaking havoc on her neatly laid plans.

  “Oh brother.” Ashlyn rolls her eyes as she tucks the pile into her arm and places it on the coffee table in front of her. The glass tabletop has three watery ring marks from where her drink has slowly made the rounds, but the volume level never seems to decrease.

  Ashlyn has been preoccupied for the past few hours, to say the least. The last thing she needs right now is more of Tamsin’s theatrics.

  The drama started Friday afternoon after the photo shoot. Tamsin would sigh tragically and look over to see if Ashlyn was watching, which, of course, she refused to bite. Then after a night out on the town, Tamsin crawled into her room the next morning to try to get her attention again. It had taken over an hour to convince Tamsin to leave her in peace. The only thing that worked was calling to order her a pedicure for that afternoon. She sure perked right up on that one.

  She managed to avoid Tamsin the rest of Saturday and most of today, but someone let her in, and she has a sneaking suspicion she knows exactly which blue-eyed beauty that was. “I knew Sophie would rat me out,” she grumbles under her breath.

  “Oh, come on, Ashlyn. We both know I was going to charm the bellman for your key sooner or later if she didn’t cave.” Tamsin turns her whole body toward Ashlyn, hands gripping her knees. “We need to chat.”

  “But I don’t want to,” Ashlyn says, realizing how dangerously close that sounded to a full-on pout. She walks around to the other side of the desk, wishing she could find a good reason to need to dash out the door. Anything Tamsin has to say now will only make her headache worse and her timeline that much shorter. “I’ve got way too much work to do right here.”

  “Work. Work. Work.” Tamsin’s gaze flickers up to the ceiling as she shakes her head with annoyance. “You need to make time to live every once in a while. Like me.”

  Ashlyn laughs and pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Wisps of hair tickle her nose and she shoves them aside. “Fine,” she says, leaning back into the desk chair. She forces herself to look away from the chaotic pile before it drives her crazy. She can’t stand to see it left undone, especially in its current state. “I’m all ears. Tell me what is so important that you would risk playing tonsil hockey with the pimple-faced bellman.”

  Tamsin laughs, waving her off. “Oh, that was just for fun.”

  Ashlyn’s lips draw back into a bemused smile. She should have known.

  “Okay.” Tamsin takes a deep breath. Her chest rises and falls, threatening to spill from her tiny black halter-top. “I think I’m in love.”

  “Of course you are,” Ashlyn says matter-of-factly.

  Tamsin crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, you’re taking this rather well.”

  Ashlyn knows all about Tamsin’s random proclamations of love. It happens with each book cover shoot. After three book releases, Ashlyn has come to expect it. “Which one is he?”

  As Tamsin sinks low into the cushions, her hair fans about her face. She sighs. “The one with the amazing brown eyes. I thought I was just going to melt away in them.”

  “Wow. Cliché much?” She chuckles weakly. She knows exactly who Tamsin is talking about and it is not a topic she cares to discuss. Slade Collins has already been on her mind far more than he should be. The last thing she wants to do is chat with Tamsin about how dreamy he is.

  Tamsin slaps her on the leg and fights for a reprimanding glare, but it falters quickly. “Do you know the one I’m talking about? The one with the amazing abs, tight little butt, and gorgeous black hair?”

  Ashlyn’s throat clinches just a smidgen. “Uh, nope. Can’t say that I do. There were so many guys that could describe.”

  She leans forward and begins obsessively straightening her pile. Ashlyn needs something to do and working with her hands helps her to ignore the sudden thumping of her heart in her chest.

  Why can’t Tamsin just let this one go? There were plenty of other hot guys that could fit the part. Maybe it’s karma. Surely she must have wronged someone in a serious way to warrant this sort of emotional torture. All Ashlyn wants to do is forget she ever met Slade, or his mysterious eyes.

  Tamsin watches her from the corner of her eye. She slowly sits up and grabs Ashlyn’s arm.

  “You do know! Oh, you little vixen, you! I should have known you would peg him right off. Wasn’t he dreamy? Those eyes, that caramel skin, that chest.” She licks her lips. “I could just eat him up.”

  Now Ashlyn feels physically ill. She turns away from Tamsin, afraid the heat flooding her cheeks and draining down into her neck will be a dead giveaway. “I’m sure he was rather taken with you too,” she manages to mutter.

  “Do you really think so?” Tamsin clutches Ashlyn’s arm, digging newly polished crimson nails into her pale arm.

  “Of course. Aren’t all guys smitten by you?”

  Tamsin grins and releases Ashlyn. She flounces up to her feet and begins pacing back and forth. “I have to find him again. Do you have his info sheet? I’m sure he must live in London. He had the accent.”

  Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “They all sound like that, Tamsin. It’s England for goodness sake!”

  “He’s different.” Her stiletto heels hardly make a sound as she bounces on her toes, too excited to continue pacing. “I saw it in his smile, in his eyes. This guy wants it, Ashlyn. I think he could be the one.”

  “Oh, give me a break.” Ashlyn snorts. “We both know you’re hardly the settling down type.”

  Tamsin sticks out her tongue. “I meant to play the role of our Ender, not marriage. Geez, drama queen.”

  “Pot. Kettle.” Ashlyn can feel the heat pooling in her chest. No doubt she’s red from brow to belly button by now. She waves her hand at the newly organized pile before her. “I still have several more applicants to go through before we narrow it down. I don’t need you getting all hormonal about this. We are supposed to pick the best guy, not the one most likely for you to seduce.”

  Tamsin flops down on the couch beside her and shoots Ashlyn a knowing look. “Oh, I get it.” She wags a finger at Ashlyn. “Don’t try to play coy with me. I saw the way you went all tongue-tied over that guy. What was his name again? Sloan? Sled? Something like that.”

  “Slade,” Ashlyn says. She rescues her pile of photo shoot images from the table just before Tamsin crosses her feet on it and props herself up on the mound of pillows. She carries the images to a table on the far side of the room, hopefully well out of reach of Tornado Tamsin. She pushes aside her untouched room service tray and stashes the stack out of the way of danger. The scent of her salmon still lingers in her room, making her stomach turn over.

  “That’s it!” Tamsin snaps her fingers. She rolls to her side, her arm draping off the couch as she stares hard at Ashlyn. “You are so amazing with names.”

  She shrugs indifferently. “I just like unique things.”

  “Well, there is definitely something unique about that guy.” Tamsin draws her leg back to unlace her stilettos from around her ankles. She sighs with relief as sh
e curls her freed toes and sinks back into the plush couch cushions. Ashlyn casts a glance over at her and shakes her head when she sees the same starry-eyed stare she always sees.

  “We can’t pick him, you know?”

  “What?” Tamsin bolts upright. Her blood-red nails dig deep into the plush fabric. “Tell me you’re joking. He was by far the best one out of all of them. And this has nothing to do with his absolutely killer body, by the way.”

  “Sure it doesn’t.” Ashlyn shakes her head, firmly avoiding glancing in Tamsin’s direction. “He was barely professional. His posture was off, his stance too rigid, his body language too fierce. You and I both know what this lifestyle will do to him.”

  Tamsin snorts. “So now you’re his mother? Come on, Ashlyn, he’s a big boy. He can handle the pressure.”

  “Maybe.” She turns to give her friend a pointed look. “But can he survive you?”

  To her credit, Tamsin works hard to smother over her grin. “He had Ender James written all over him and you know it! You’re just afraid of getting too close to him.”

  “I am not!” Ashlyn scoffs, but even she knows how pathetically weak it sounds. “And this isn’t about me. It’s about Ender and Darcy.”

  “No.” Tamsin draws out the word as she rises from the couch. She is much shorter without her stilettos. Red welts crisscross over her feet where the straps dug into her flesh throughout the day. “This is about you being uber uncomfortable around gorgeous guys, and Slade has definitely got you all hot and bothered. Why can’t you just admit it?”

  Ashlyn takes her glasses off and sets them on the table before her. She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. She resists the urge to fan herself as a flush rises along her neck. It is getting really hot in here. “He may be nice to look at,” she finally admits.

  “Ha!” Tamsin shouts and claps her hands. “I knew it!”

  “Don’t do this to me,” Ashlyn moans, slumping in her chair. “You know how I get. I just… I just want to get this book tour over and behind us so we can prepare for the next release. You know how crucial this launch is. Can we really risk future book deals just because you fancy this guy?”