He shoots me a dirty look and hands me a glass of wine. I take it with an eye roll.“So tell me again why Mr. Dreamboat is so bad.”

“Sara. Underwear. What’s my color scheme?”I sigh. Boy. Note to self: don’t ever be late when Nina is doing your makeup. She goes all stylist-zilla.

I cough and he looks up. He grins, unapologetic, and a dimple appears on his cheek. “The shoot?” I question, drawing on every bit of strength I have inside me to deal with this. “Are you ready to start?” Nope. I’m ready to click my heels and see if I’ll magic the hell out of here. “Yes. Where do you want me?” Wrong question. Wrong question. Something flickers in his eyes—lust. “On the bed.” Wrong answer. Wrong answer. I walk across the room and climb onto the bed. His eyes follow me the whole time, and I see him slowly raise the camera to his eye out of the corner of mine.

I met his gaze as he let go and pulled away from me. I immediately felt empty and cold, and I pushed that feeling away as he rolled off the condom and discard it in the adjacent bathroom.My gaze followed him as he dressed, and he turned to face me. “I'll go downstair

“I just… Where am I going to find anyone able to cater for us at short notice?”She groans and clicks at her laptop. “No, no, no!” She drops her head to the bar. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes ar