Stretching, I blink a few times as my heart pounds in my chest. I gasp and sit up quickly.
"Forget where you were?" Cole asks from the leather chair. He's already dressed, sitting with an e-reader on his lap.
Breathing hard, I smile sheepishly and relax. "Maybe," I grin. He's smiling now, watching me.
"I never thought I'd get you in my bed, Lamore," he jokes, shaking his head. That soft smile makes his eyes shine like he's happy.
"Yeah, well, even you have to get lucky once in a while," I laugh. My fingers caress the silky sheets. The thread count has to be close to a zillion. They feel like butter, soft and supple under my palm. I fall back onto the pillows and look at the ceiling. "I'd better get going. My boss is going to be pissed. I didn't call in sick today and I'm going to be close to three hours late by the time I get there." I stare at the ceiling, noticing it has a pearlescence that makes the room have a soft glow.
"Yeah, I heard he can be a dick. You might want to hurry up and get out here, take care of your clients, and maybe he won't chain you up in the basement for being so damn late...well, not for more than a few nights anyway." The corner of Cole's lips pull up. It's a sexy smirk that makes my stomach flip. His fingers tap the e-reader, and he lifts it, his eyes scanning the lines, but I saw the screensaver and know it's not even on.
When he looks up, our eyes meet. My heart shudders like I'm being electrocuted. Our gazes lock and heat sears through my stomach and between my legs. The room suddenly feels overly warm. I want to push back the blankets and walk away. I don't want him to have this effect on me, especially because it seems to be mostly one-sided. I can't hold him like that. Hell, I can't even get him to kiss me. These thoughts run through my mind as his blue eyes bore into mine.
It feels like he can see every inch of me. I realize I'm not breathing and suck in a shaky gasp. My entire body is tingling. I break the gaze and throw my feet over the side of the bed and stare at my toes. What am I doing? Why am I chasing this guy? He's too screwed up to ever be with, and yet - I can't walk away.
"Lamore?" he says my name and I glance over at him. He's leaning back in that chair like nothing happened, like he doesn't feel anything.
"Yeah, boss?" I pull my lips into a smile, but it feels hollow. I glance at him from behind a wall of frizzy dark hair.
"What time is your last shoot today?"
I think about it for a second and say, "Six. Mrs. Patterson wants me to shoot something sexy with her Pomeranian. You knew how bat-shit crazy they are out there, didn't you? Sexy pictures with a dog. There must be something in the water..." I'm talking to myself now, shocked at the strange requests people have. It's like no two people can agree on what's sexy. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a dog?"
Cole ignores my bewilderment, "I'll come by at eight and you can show me your work. I'll help keep you on track when stuff like this comes up. The best way is to shoot it the best you can and then talk about what to do next time. And since I failed to feed you breakfast, I'm taking you to dinner." He sets the e-reader down as he's speaking and stands. As he finishes the last word, he's standing in front of me. "Assuming you eat dinner and don't have other plans?"
The spot between my brows pinches and I look up at him. He's holding a white slip of paper between his fingers. It has ten black digits and the name JESSE OWDEN, slightly crumpled and linty from a spin through the washer and dryer. I glance past him, annoyed that he went through my clothes, but I can tell he washed them for me. My clothes are folded neatly on Cole's dresser. The paper was left in my pocket and got soaked, but any idiot can tell what it was.
"Not tonight," I hedge, not wanting to say anything. I stand and realize that he's much taller than I am. I pluck the slip from between his fingers.
"Want to tell me who he is?" he asks, his arms folding over his chest, his head tilting to the side like I've done something wrong.
I mirror his pose. Folding my arms, I tilt my head, and say, "Want to tell me about the hot chick in the red gown?" We stare at each other, each of us driven to hide our secrets. The tension in the air is thick, coating us until my hairs are standing on end.
Cole folds first, "Well played, Lamore." His arms unfold and he looks into my eyes. The gaze is so vulnerable, so sweet that I can't believe it belongs to Cole. "I'll see you at eight." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in his room to get dressed.