“I had a nice time. Thanks.”
“That was probably painful for you to say.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “It was not. I can be charming and polite. Even fun.”
“I’m sure you can. But I can tell you don’t go out much. And you obviously aren’t comfortable around men.”
She pinned him with a look. “I’m extremely comfortable around men, since I shoot with them all the time.”
“That’s work. I’m talking about fun. Dating. Romance. You know, romance? That thing you said we weren’t going to have together? Or is it just me you don’t like?”
Now he was putting words in her mouth, and irritating her. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
“So you do like me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say that, either.”
He laughed, then took the key card from her hand and opened the door to her bungalow. “Get some sleep, Katrina. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She was kind of shocked he didn’t push to come in for a drink, or even try to kiss her. “Okay. Good night, Grant.”
He nodded, and waited there while she closed the door and locked it. She put her purse down and kicked off her sandals. When she went to the window to check, he was gone.
Interesting man.
And one she couldn’t figure out at all, which was odd, because she thought she knew men very well. But this man she intended to avoid, like she had made avoiding men a practiced art her entire life.
She had made independence her priority, knew better than to trust any man.
I’ll never leave you, my printsessa.
She could still hear her father’s voice in her head, promising he’d always be there for her.
Right up until he’d disappeared from her life forever, abandoning her and her mother without a word, shattering her world and her trust.
And then her mother had died, and she’d been on her own, spending years carving out the independence she’d worked so hard to attain for herself, and for her siblings.
She’d never let a man—any man—screw that up.
Even if her libido thought otherwise.
Grant Cassidy might be hot and sexy, and her sex drive might be revved up, but her sex drive could be tamped down.
She’d worked for ten years to make a life for herself, to make sure she’d never end up broke and alone. She’d made a careful plan, never once deviating from it.
And no man would ever interfere with her plan.
She just had to keep her body and thoughts under control. She’d done it for twenty-seven years; she could do it for another couple of days.
Easy enough, right?
FOUR
IT WAS DAMNED HOT TODAY, AND THEY DIDN’T HAVE to do much oiling of Grant’s skin, because he was sweating like he’d just taken the ball himself and run it forty yards for a touchdown.
Good thing they decided on a shady shot, and in the water by some caves, which suited him just fine.
It also suited him that they decided to pair him up with Katrina again. The director told him he liked the chemistry between him and Katrina.
Yeah, Grant was into that chemistry, too. All over it, in fact. He’d like to find out if yesterday was just a fluke, or if it continued today.
They were at the mouth of the rocks in the shallow water. Katrina was in a turquoise swimsuit, some skimpy thing again that barely covered her. And again, she was oblivious to it all, just following directions as they set up the shot.
Grant had to lean against the rocks, with Katrina draped over him. The director was hot about this, saying it would be sexy as hell. Right now it was uncomfortable as hell and the rock was digging into his back. Good thing he had a gorgeous distraction, and as Katrina eased over his body, her breasts mashing against his chest, his back forgot all about the pain.
“Stretch out, Katrina,” the director said. “Now slide your fingers into his hair and extend your legs. That’s it. Grant, I want your left hand on her lower back, your fingertips just above her swimsuit bottom. Hold it—that’s perfect.”
With her close like this, he easily got lost in the blue violet depth of her eyes. And she could really work the camera. Or maybe she was working him, because once again he was struck by her, by the way she looked at him, at the connection he felt when their gazes met.
Nope. Not just a fluke. That pow of attraction was still there.
She shifted, her center colliding with his hip. They were both wet from the water that had been sprayed on them, her hair falling over her shoulders, tickling his chest. At that moment, she started sliding off him.
He grasped her hips. “Are you okay? Uncomfortable?”
“No, I’m fine. Just realigning.”
“It’s really damn hot today,” he said.
“I know.”
“I hope I’m not sweating all over you.”
“Don’t worry about it. A little sweat isn’t going to bother me.”
“When we’re done today, I’m going to take a dive in the ocean to cool off.”
Her lips curved. “It’s not the worst idea ever.”
The makeup and hair team dashed over to fix Katrina’s hair and dab some powder on her. The shoot seemed to go on for hours, with adjustment in positions. They draped Katrina over the rock, with Grant leaning over her. He felt bad for her, because he knew how damned uncomfortable that rock was, though she never even winced or complained, just did what she was told.
Though he noticed she arched her back. Now he knew whenever he saw those sexy shots of models thrusting their breasts up, it was probably because they were uncomfortable on whatever surface they were on. He had a new respect for what they had to go through.