A colorful parade of daywear, swimsuits, lingerie, and evening wear made the complete circuit, and only when the last one had passed did he come out of his trance-like state. As the final model made her way through the exit, all of the models began to descend the grand staircase once again for the group walk.
Ford lifted his camera to the head of the staircase, readying himself for Callie to appear. When she did, his exclaimed, "Fuuuucck!" could be heard above the music and drew several amused glances and laughs. He neither noticed or cared. His eyes were riveted to the living embodiment of Callisto, a Greek goddess come to life.
The gown draped from one shoulder and conformed to her curvaceous body like a second skin until a thigh-high slit revealed glimpses of a toned, shapely leg. Yards of gauzy fabric billowed gently behind her from where they were connected at the shoulder and hip. She sparkled and shone like a precious gem under the spotlights.
The bodice of the gown was a platinum white that darkened to deep amethyst at the bottom, exactly like her hair color. Her beautiful hair was piled atop her head, amethyst curls dripping artfully down to her bare shoulder. The effect was stunning and Ford wanted nothing more than to strip it off of her.
With his teeth.
The audience surged to their feet applauding and snapped him out of his stupor. As Callie began her graceful descent, his shutter began clicking in rapid succession. He wanted to shoot her from every angle and not miss an inch of the incredible design. Or the sexy as fuck woman wearing it.
After she had completed the circuit, the designer returned to the center of the floor in front of him and bowed to the still applauding crowd. As per Ford's instructions, her assistant Amy presented her with a bouquet of roses. A brilliant smile lit Callie's face as she looked at him when she accepted them.
She lowered her face to the bouquet and he zoomed in for a close-up. It was the most stunning image he'd ever filmed. Callie's radiant face, lips curved in a smile, amethyst eyes sparkling, framed by platinum and amethyst hair, poised above a bouquet of perfect white roses tipped in amethyst.
Simply breathtaking.
Ford missed every word she said to the audience because he was once again enthralled by the woman. And there was nary a feather in sight. Dr. Wilkes would consider it a breakthrough, he thought with dark humor.
As the audience surged around her, Ford had never been as proud of anything in his entire life. The show had been phenomenal and he couldn't wait to congratulate her. Making his way through the press of bodies, he saw the woman he loved wrapped in the arms of another man, and his vision tinged with red.
Determined to stake his claim, Ford pulled Callie into his arms and kissed the living daylights out of her. Flashes of light assured him that the press was capturing the moment and that suited his possessive instincts just fine. When he finally let her come up for air, those amethyst eyes looked a bit dazed as she breathed, "Wow. What was that for?"
"Because you look fucking edible," he whispered against her ear before he nipped the lobe gently. "Congratulations. The show was incredible, but you were the star."
The sound of a throat being cleared had her turning in the circle of his arms to offer the other man a dazzling smile. "Ford, this is my mentor, Sexy Grayson. Sexy, meet Ford Hammersmith."
"Hammersmith," the other man repeated as if the name meant something to him before he looked Ford over like he was sizing him for a body bag.
"Grayson," Ford bit out in acknowledgment and returned the look. Neither of them offered to shake hands. The animosity between them was palpable, but Callie didn't even notice. She was floating too high on success to let anything bring her down. When someone called her name, she excused herself to speak to them.
"I take it that blatant display of possession was for my benefit," the arrogant bastard opined with a smirk.
Ford might not know fuck all about the fashion industry, but he had heard of the internationally acclaimed designer's reputation as a manwhore. "You needed to know that Callie is mine," he replied bluntly. "Mentoring doesn't require putting your hands on her. Don't make the mistake of doing it again."
"The relationship between mentor and protégée is very... intimate," Grayson replied in a tone that implied sexual intimacy was involved. "Having Callie under me is such a pleasurable experience. I have no intention of altering the arrangement to accommodate someone who will be gone tomorrow."
"I'm not going anywhere, Grayson," Ford denied and barely resisted the urge to slam his fist into the bastard's cover model handsome face. "I was her first and I'll damn well be the last."
A knowing look came over the other man's face before his eyes hardened and his voice became cold. "So you are the heartless bastard who left her emotionally broken," he accused.
"She told you about us?" He asked in surprise and couldn't help wondering if he'd been the only fucking person on the planet who hadn't known.
A slight smirk curled the arrogant bastard's lips before he admitted, "Callie talks in her sleep."
"As much as I'd love to see this play out to its natural conclusion," Bastion imparted in a menacing tone that belied his impassive expression as he stepped between them. "If you two do anything to disrupt Callie's night I'll gut you both."
"You're slipping, Baines," Grayson accused. "I can't believe you let this bastard near her again."
To his credit, Baines didn't even bat an eye when he replied, "It's her choice. If it were mine, you'd both be maggot fodder."
"My three favorite men," Callie said merrily as she joined them and slid her arm through his and Baines. "What has you all looking so serious?"
"Business," all three of them replied simultaneously. After all, it was the universal excuse that men gave when a female interrupted a discussion they didn't want her to know about.
"Uh, uh, uh," she chided with a simply dazzling smile. "It's time to celebrate. You can talk business later." Which Ford took as his cue to lead her away from the other two men. Thoughts of Callie with the fucking designer consumed him until she mentioned, "You're thinking awfully hard about something. Care to share?"
Recovering quickly, he said, "I'm thinking about getting you out of that dress. It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."
"You say that about everything I wear," Callie replied in amusement.
"That's because you always look incredible," he admitted. "But this... you had to design it just to torment me."
"Actually, you are responsible for the design," she confessed.
"I am?" He responded in pleasant surprise.
"Yes. I designed it the night of the auction when I was furious with you."
He let his eyes do a slow sweep down her front and replied, "If this is the result of making you angry, I can't wait to see what happens when I make you happy."
"That would involve this gown lying on my bedroom floor," she replied with a flirtatious smile.
"Fuck," he breathed as his eyes practically ate her alive. "If we weren't celebrating your success, I'd drag you out of here right now."
"At least you can fill the time wondering what I have on beneath the gown," Callie replied, imps of mischief dancing in her gorgeous eyes. "It was designed just for you."
"One more word and I'll be balls deep inside of you in the supply closet," he warned and meant every word. The merry sound of her laughter rang through the cavernous space and filled his heart with joy.
***
Watching the couple from across the room, Bastion sighed in resignation and admitted, "That's why the bastard is still alive."
Grayson merely gave a nod of confirmation before grudgingly admitting, "He does seem to make her happy. But if that changes..."
"He's as good as dead."
CHAPTER TEN
Callie
Callie was euphoric with happiness. The show had gone off without a hitch and her spring and summer line were a huge success with the critics and her peers. Having her closest friends and mentor there to share the moment made it even be
tter. But having Ford by her side made it the best night of her life.
Sedatives lowered her inhibitions so she dreaded talking to the press while under the influence, which was why Bastion normally stuck with her and fielded questions. As if he knew, and maybe he did, Ford stepped in when she hesitated and either charmed the reporter or redirected the line of questions to another subject.
One of the main topics everyone wanted to discuss was his presence. After all, having the CEO of a construction empire acting as the official photographer for a fashion show was not a common occurrence. It was a position that only the crème de la crème of professional fashion photographers garnered.
Callie fielded that one easily. "Ford has the eye of an artisan," she explained proudly. "He has an uncanny ability to capture the essence of an image in flawless detail. His photographs are works of art and I'm thrilled that he offered to shoot the show."
"High praise indeed," the reporter commented with raised brows. "How is it that you're so familiar with his photography skill? I wasn't aware that the two of you were an item until that kiss earlier."
Realizing that she'd left herself wide open for that, she stiffened slightly and felt the arm he had placed around her waist tighten a fraction. "Callie and I have known each other for a decade," Ford interjected smoothly. "She graciously allowed an old friend the opportunity to indulge his passion for photography. End of story."
The steely tone wrapped in charm worked just as well as one of Bastion's menacing stares because the woman backed off of the topic and moved on to another one. And so it went for the rest of the evening. Everyone was curious about their relationship, but Ford upheld her unspoken plea and downplayed it as much as possible.
When he was questioned about the kiss, he merely flashed that wicked, wicked smile and replied, "What can I say? I was caught up in the excitement of the moment so I kissed a beautiful woman. Besides, she's sexy as fuck so who could blame me?" The excuse garnered laughs and amused looks as expected so the subject was dropped.
Well, not everyone dropped it.
Soraya pulled her aside while Graham and Ford conversed to crow quietly, "I knew it! Cal, that kiss was hot. You are so sleeping with him, aren't you?"
"Not yet," she admitted and bit her lip anxiously. "I had planned to, but now that the press is on the scent... I'm having second thoughts."
The other woman stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It's complicated," she admitted. "I'd just rather we kept it quiet."
Her best friend frowned and asked, "Are you still unsure about him sticking around this time?"
"No," Callie hastily denied. "That's the last thing I'm concerned about."
"Then why would you want to keep your relationship a secret?" Soraya queried. "I mean sooner or later it would have come out anyway."
"It's still so new," she replied. "I'd rather no one knew about us until..."
"Until?"
Realizing how crazy she must sound, Callie laughed and said, "Sorry. I'm being ridiculous. You know these shows always make me a little unhinged."
The other woman studied her carefully before nodding her agreement, then in a rare moment of seriousness, she imparted, "Cal, I want you to listen to me carefully. Ford makes you happy and I know you love him. A blind man can see that he's head over heels for you. Don't let your fears ruin a second chance at happiness. You may not get another one."
No truer words had ever been said. Callie would never forgive herself if she let her fears stand in the way of the wonderful life they could have together. "You're right," she agreed. "After all we've been through, we both deserve some happiness. If we find it together, then it was meant to be."
"Damn right," Soraya confirmed. "Now, let's get some champagne and celebrate your success."
Ford
The last of the guests and models had left. The catering crew and staff were cleaning up, and Callie had turned down numerous offers to party the night away with her fellow designers. Now that Ford finally had her to himself, he took advantage of the situation and brought out his camera to shoot her stunning dress from every angle.
At first, she had laughingly refused, but he'd persisted and she'd graciously given in. The camera loved her almost as much as he did. The woman was beautiful from every angle, and the dress she had created really was a work of art. He just hoped his skill as a photographer could do it, and her, the justice they deserved.
Finally calling a halt, Callie walked over to him and placed her hand over his heart. "Thank you for tonight, Ford," she said sincerely, her amethyst eyes almost luminous under the colored lights. "I really appreciate all of your hard work, but just having you here with me means more than I can say."
"I'd do anything for you, Callie," he vowed and placed his hand over hers. "I love you."
Her smile was blinding when she replied, "I never stopped loving you."
The softly spoken declaration reached the depths of his soul, freeing him in ways he'd never known were possible. "You slay me," Ford confessed in a whisper of sound as his hands gently cupped her face. His lips covered hers in a kiss of pure reverence in an attempt to convey the intensity of emotion that mere words could never express.
"Ford, make love to me," Callie asked when he finally came up for air.
"Fuck, yes," he moaned before he scooped her into his arms and hauled ass to the elevator. Once inside her loft, he carried her into the bedroom and stood her on her feet. "How do I get you out of this thing without destroying it?"
Callie slid the zipper down her side and the elaborate gown fell to her feet. She was completely bare except for the sparkling shoes and a long stem amethyst rose tattooed just above her pelvis. He'd been tormenting himself all night imagining all kinds of sexy lingerie, but this was infinitely better.
"Fuuucckkk," he breathed in awe as his eyes beheld the beauty before him. "You were right. Your body was designed just for me."
"It's all yours, playboy," she teased and stepped out of the shoes.
For almost a year, Ford had dreamed and fantasized about this moment. Now that it was actually happening, he was a conflicting mass of emotions. He wanted to prostrate himself at her feet and worship. He wanted to kiss and touch every flawless inch of exposed flesh. He also wanted to fuck her until neither of them could breathe.
"Fuck, baby," he said shakily. "I'm as nervous as if this were my first time."
A smile curved her luscious lips. "You said that last time," Callie replied as she slid the coat from his shoulders.
Somehow that didn't surprise him at all. Ford had been with a lot of women in his life, but this was so much more than sex. Callie was the woman he loved, and even though this wasn't their first time together, it was to him. "Making love with you is a precious gift and I'm not taking it lightly."
"Just love me, Ford," she suggested as her fingers began working the buttons on his shirt. "Show me what you feel."
That he could do.
Like a blind man studying a statue, he slowly caressed every inch within reach, learning her shape, the silken texture of her skin. His lips moved over her body with skilled dexterity as if they knew exactly where to kiss, lick, and nibble to make her gasp and moan in pleasure. The sound was music to his ears.
Much to his delight, his Callie was not a passive lover. Nothing had ever felt as good as her hands against his heated flesh. Her mouth trailing kisses across his shoulder, down his chest. They moved slowly, tenderly, in sync with each other as if they had done this countless times before, and they probably had.
Ford would have cursed the loss of those memories if he hadn't been intent on making new ones. His sole focus was on giving the woman he loved all of the pleasure she could stand before she drove him out of his mind trying to do the same thing. They were both trembling with need when he lifted her and placed her in the center of the bed.
He climbed between her parted thighs, his painfully throbbing erection unerringly fi
nding her center as he lowered himself over her. Forearms bracing his weight so he didn't crush her, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and locked onto her passion clouded amethyst eyes. "I love you, Callie Rose."
The most beautiful smile curved her lips as he slid slowly into her heated depths until he was fully seated, their eyes never breaking contact. Both of them gasped, eyes wide with wonder because the sense of completion was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Being one with her felt like coming home.
Moved beyond words, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss as their bodies began an intimate dance as old as time. They didn't just make love. It was a claiming. The physical consummation of two hearts joined as one. Their connection was so deep and profound, he would swear their souls had merged.
She was his.
And he was hers.
Ford
The next morning, the rain fell soft and gentle against the window panes, painting the cityscape in muted shades of gray. The dark, gloomy atmosphere matched Ford's mood even though Callie was curled against his side, soft and pliant, the smile of a woman well-loved curving her lips.
He hated knowing that she'd slept with Grayson and the possibility that she had loved the bastard was eating him alive. Jealousy was not something that he had experienced before, but he recognized it for what it was. Because the shrink had taught him to deal with his emotions rather than give them control over him, he did the last thing he wanted to.
"Did you love him?"
The fingertips that had been idly tracing random patterns on his bare chest stopped moving. "Who?"
"Grayson," Ford supplied in a low, growly tone that reeked of jealousy. His hold on her tightened imperceptibly in an unconscious claim of possession.
"I tried to," she confessed and he could actually feel his blood begin to boil.
Heartless Bastard (Rich Ruthless Bastards, #1) Page 11
