I avoided Christian with the determination of an escaped
convict fleeing the FBI in the week leading up to New York.
It was surprisingly easy, given how early he left in the morning and how late he returned at night. I suspected he might be avoiding me as well, and I half expected him to back out of accompanying me to the shoot.
No such luck.
The morning of my Delamonte shoot, I found myself thirty-five thousand feet in the air, sitting across from a man who seemed as hellbent on ignoring me as I did him.
Except for a courteous exchange of good mornings, we hadnโt spoken to each other since we left the house.
I sipped my lemon water and snuck a peek at Christian. He was working on his laptop, his brow furrowed with concentration. His jacket lay on the seat next to him, and heโd pushed his shirtsleeves up to reveal his watch and tanned, muscular forearms.
How had I not realized how s*xy forearms were until now?
I stared at where his Patek Philippe glinted against his bronzed skin. Jules was right. There was something about men wearing watchesโฆ
โSomething on your mind?โ Christian didnโt look up from his computer.
I hadnโt been doing anything wrong, but my heartbeats collided like heโd caught me stealing.
โJust thinking about the shoot,โ I lied. I took another sip of water.
Between the tension on the plane and my Delamonte shoot that afternoon, I was surprised I could keep anything, even liquids, down.
โWhat are you going to do while Iโm on set?โ I asked. โGo into the New York office?โ
Harper Security was headquartered in D.C., but it had offices around the world.
โIโm not flying with you to New York so I can hole myself up in another office.โ Christian typed something on his keyboard. โIโll join you on set.โ
Surprise ballooned in my chest, followed by a pinprick of anxiety. โBut the shoot could take hours.โ
โI know.โ
I waited for an elaboration that never came.
I held back a sigh. Christian was more mercurial than a broken thermometer.
For lack of anything better to do, I settled deeper into my seat and examined the luxury surrounding us.
Christianโs private jet resembled an airborne mansion. Buttery cream leather seats formed intimate seating areas, and an elegant, cloud-like navy carpet mu๏ฌed the steps of the two smartly outfitted attendants who looked like theyโd stepped out of the latest issue of Vogue.
Besides the main cabin, the jet also boasted a bedroom, a full bathroom, a four-person screening area, and a dining table set with magnetic-bottomed plates and silverware engineered to stay still through turbulence.
It mustโve cost a fortune.
Christian seemed as comfortable with his opulent surroundings as someone whoโd grown up with a silver
spoon in his mouth, but my research told me he hailed from a normal, upper-middle-class family. According to the only public interview heโd ever given, his father had been a software engineer and his mother a school administrator.
โWhy did you choose private security?โ I asked, breaking the silence. โYou couldโve gone into any field.โ
Christian had graduated summa cum laude from MIT. He couldโve gotten a job anywhere after graduationโ NASA, Silicon Valley, the CIA. Instead, he chose to build his own company from the ground up with no guarantees of success, in a field few MIT grads touched.
โI enjoy it.โ Christian finally looked up, his mouth curving at whatever he saw on my face. โRhys says itโs my god complex. Knowing how important the lives at stake are and that theyโre in my hands.โ
Iโd forgotten Rhys used to work for him. They were so different it was hard to picture them existing in the same sphere.
Rhys, for all his gruffness, stuck by the rules (unless Bridget was involved). Christian didnโt seem like he had much use for rules at all unless they were his own.
โItโs not.โ I may not know Christian that well despite living with him, but I knew he wouldnโt do anything out of pure ego. He was too practical and calculating for that.
โNo, itโs not. Not entirely.โ He rubbed his thumb over the face of his watch. โIf I only wanted money, I could obtain it any number of ways. Stocks, selling proprietary softwareโฆwhich I did, to raise capital for Harper Security. But once you reach a certain level of wealth, money is just money. It doesnโt add any inherent value beyond that of ego. Whatโs more important is your network. Access. The people you know and the things theyโre willing to do for you.โ A smile, equal parts sensual and dangerous. โOne debt owed from a well-placed contact is worth more than all the cash in the world.โ
A shiver of trepidation crept up my spine. What he said made sense, but the way he said it made it sound more ominous than heโd probably intended.
โSpeaking of businessโฆโ Christian switched topics so effortlessly it took my brain a minute to catch up. โHowโs the business plan going?โ
โGood.โ I wanted to say more, but the brush of his knee against mine distracted me.
I hadnโt realized how close weโd gotten during our conversation.
Masculine heat and decadent spice stole into my lungs and further distracted me before I grasped the rest of my near-forgotten words. โBut I donโt want to talk about that right now. Tell me more about you.โ
His mini-speech just now was my first insight into how his mind worked.
Christian wore his expensive suits and charm like armor, and I was desperate for a chink, for any glimpse into the man behind the mask.
What was his childhood like? What were his hobbies, his goals and fears? What made him into who he was?
I didnโt know why I wanted answers to those questions, but I knew the tiny glimpse Iโd gotten wasnโt enough. It was too intoxicating, like a shot of fine tequila straight to the blood of an alcoholic.
โIโm not that interesting.โ It was the smooth, practiced response of someone whoโd spent a lifetime locking his private thoughts and feelings inside a vault.
โYouโre wrong.โ Our gazes locked like two pieces of a puzzle sliding into place. โI think youโre one of the most fascinating men Iโve ever met.โ
It was a bold admission, one that had his eyes darkening into a rich, molten amber.
โOne of?โ The languid softness of his question stoked whatever wild alchemy burned between us. Dark flames
devoured all the oxygen in the cabin, leaving next to nothing for my compressed lungs.
โTell me more about yourself, and I might promote you to the top of the list.โ
His laugh stole into the remaining pockets of air in my chest. โTouchรฉ.โ
Christianโs eyes dipped to my mouth, and the remnants of his laughter evaporated. Black swallowed amber, leaving nothing behind except promises of sin and dark pleasures.
Pinpricks of nervous energy buzzed beneath my skin. The memory of our almost kiss when I first moved in resurfaced, as it had a bad habit of doing since that night.
My nails sank into my knees, and I waited, not breathing, not moving, as Christian lowered his headโ
โMr. Harper, apologies for the interruption. But you wanted me to alert you fifteen minutes before landing.โ
The attendantโs gentle voice sliced the moment into a thousand jagged pieces.
A cold wave of oxygen rushed back into my chest, followed by the acrid sting of disappointment when Christian drew back. Face blank, all traces of desire snuffed as if itโd never existed at all.
โThank you, Portia.โ Perfectly even, perfectly calm, unlike the erratic heartbeat thundering behind my ribcage.
Portia nodded. Her eyes flitted between us before she disappeared to another part of the jet.
Christian returned his attention to his computer, and we didnโt speak for the duration of the flight.
It was just as well.
I couldnโt have formed proper words had I tried. I was too unsettled by the knowledge that Christian Harper had been about to kiss me againโฆand that Iโd desperately wanted him to.
As nervous as I was about the Delamonte shoot, I was
grateful for the distraction from my tangled feelings toward Christian.
I wanted him, but I didnโt want to date him (or anyone else).
We lived together, but we barely knew each other.
The world thought we were dating, but weโd barely kissed.
The contradictions were enough to drive a girl mad.
Once I returned to D.C., I needed girl talk with Ava and Jules ASAP. I was too rusty in the boys department to sort through my mess on my own.
But, for now, I had something more urgent that required my attention: not screwing up the first Delamonte photoshoot of the most important brand deal of my life.
When Christian and I arrived at the studio, it was already bustling with activity. The photographer, makeup artist, hairstylist, and various assistants and Delamonte staff rushed around, steaming garments, and fussing over lighting and props. A pop song played in the background, but all commotion halted when I walked in.
Spiders of anxiety crawled over my skin.
I had no problem doing solo photoshoots or being on camera when I couldnโt see people watching me. Being the center of attention at an in-person shoot was an entirely different matter.
โStella!โ Luisa broke the silence and greeted me with effusive kisses on both cheeks. โYou look wonderful. And Christian.โ Her eyebrows climbed up her expertly Botoxed forehead. โThis is a surprise.โ
โIโm in the city for business. Besidesโฆโ Christian rested a hand on my lower back. โI couldnโt resist attending Stellaโs first photoshoot.โ
He looked and sounded so believable as a proud, doting boyfriend that I almost forgot we were pretending.
Almost.
โHuh.โ Luisa eyed him with fascination. โIndeed.โ
I was more surprised to see her on set than she was to see Christian. As the brandโs CEO, supervising photoshoots was below her pay grade.
She mustโve read the confusion on my face because her eyes twinkled with knowing. โI couldnโt resist dropping by as well. People say Iโm micromanaging, but this campaign is my baby. Iโm determined to make it the best one in Delamonte history, and you, my dearโฆโ She patted my hand. โYouโre going to help make that happen.โ
The sandwich I ate for lunch churned in my stomach.
Right. No pressure at all.
Christian retreated to the back to take business calls while I sat through hair and makeup and met everyone on set, including Ricardo, the brandโs in-house photographer. He was a handsome man in his forties, with tanned skin and a flirtatious smile that he bestowed upon me before it faded.
I followed his suddenly wary gaze to where Christian stood by the exit, his phone to his ear but his attention fixed on us.
โYour boyfriend is an intense one, huh?โ Ricardo let out a nervous chuckle before he cleared his throat. โNo matter. Time to get started, darling. We have magic to make!โ
He was charming enough to pull off such a cheesy line, and for the next hour, I tried my best to follow his guidance, posing and turning and contorting my body into strange, unnatural positions until sweat trickled down my spine.
The lights were insanely hot, and I pictured my makeup melting until I resembled a crazed clown.
Also, was it just me, or had Ricardo lost some of his enthusiasm? His encouraging shouts of โGorgeous!โ and โBeautiful!โ had gradually tapered off into โTurn leftโ and โToo far left.โ Soon, only the clicks and whirs of his camera filled the studio.
No one spoke, but the weight of their stares pressed against me like a second layer of clothing.
Self-doubt crept into the vacuum left in the wake of their silence.
Pretend youโre at home. Your camera is on a tripod facing you. Youโve perfected the settings and youโre ready to shoot. Youโve done this a thousand times, Stellaโฆ
โLift your chin higher.โ Ricardoโs instruction interrupted the fantasy Iโd concocted of being alone. โDrop your handโฆ a little moreโฆrelax those shouldersโฆโ
It wasnโt working.
He didnโt say it, but I could feel it. The thick, sour sting of disappointment tainting the air. The one I was so used to tasting whenever I went home.
I was finally working with my dream brand, and I was screwing it all up.
Tears gathered behind my eyes, but I set my jaw and blinked them back. I would not cry on set. I could hold myself together until the shoot was over.
Besides, this was only the first session. There were three more. Iโll practice before the next one and improveโฆif they kept me on.
The unforgiving fist of anxiety strangled my lungs.
What if Delamonte terminated my contract? Were they allowed to do that?
My mind rifled through the contractโs clauses, frantic in its search for one that allowed the brand to dump me if I didnโt perform up to its standards.
Why hadnโt I looked more closely at the language? Iโd
been so excited Iโd signed after a quick check with Brady to ensure there were no major red flags. But what ifโ
โStella, darling.โ Forced patience strained Ricardoโs voice. โLetโs take a break, shall we? Walk around, drink some water. Weโll reconvene in ten minutes.โ
Translation: you have ten minutes to get your shit together.
Low murmurs broke out, and I spotted a frown on Luisaโs face before she turned away.
The rush of tears pressed harder against the dam of my willpower.
Cool, calm, collected. Cool, calm, collected. Coolโ
Warm, masculine spice filled my nostrils. A second later, the deep black of Christianโs suit jacket came into view.
He handed me a glass of water. โDrink.โ
I did. It cooled some of the sweat inching my spine, but the air was still too hot, the lights too bright. I felt like a bug buzzing around in a fluorescent bulb, trying to escape before I burned to death.
โWhat are you doing?โ I asked when Christian took my empty glass, set it on the nearest table, and returned to stand in front of me. Assessing me, the way he would a prospective investment or unsolved puzzle.
โReminding you of why youโre here.โ His tone was soft but authoritative enough to drown out the nasty taunts crowding my head. Disappointment. Failure. Fraud. โWhy are you here, Stella?โ
โFor a photoshoot.โ
I couldnโt summon the energy for a better, less inane answer.
โThatโs the what.โ Christian grasped my chin and tilted it until my eyes met his. โIโm asking you why. Why, of all the people who could be standing in your spot, are you here?โ
โIโฆโ Because Iโd spent the past decade cultivating an image that had become a cage as much as it had a lifeline. Because I was deceiving my followers and almost everyone I knew to achieve some stupid, arbitrary measure of success. Because I was desperate to prove I could succeed to people who didnโt even care.
Thickness clogged my throat.
โBecause they chose you.โ Christianโs cool voice sliced through my muddied thoughts. โEvery blogger in the world would kill to be standing where you are, but Delamonte
chose you. Not Raya. Not any of the other women at the dinner or in the pages of magazines. This is a multibillion- dollar brand, and they wouldnโt have invested in you if they didnโt think you can do it.โ
โBut I canโt.โ My whisper revealed the heartbreaking truth. I was an imposter, a little girl playing dress up in a grown upโs clothes. โYou see how itโs going. Iโm bombing.โ
โYou are not bombing.โ The guided precision of his statement struck the shell of uncertainty in my chest. Dented, but not destroyed. โItโs been an hour. One hour. Think about how much time you invested to get to where you are now. How much have you achieved? How many people have you outlasted? You downplay your accomplishments as ordinary when you would hail them as extraordinary on anyone else.โ
Christian kept his grasp on my chin as he brushed his thumb over my cheek. He was close enough I could spot the gold flecks in his eyes, like fallen stars swimming in pools of molten amber.
โIf you saw yourself the way other people see you,โ he said quietly. โYouโd never doubt again.โ
Curiosity and something infinitely sweeter and more dangerous fluttered to life in my heart. โHow do other people see me?โ
Christianโs eyes didnโt leave mine.
โLike youโre the most beautiful, most remarkable thing theyโve ever seen.โ
The words lit every molecule in my body and dissolved them into a pool of exquisite, unbearable warmth.
We werenโt talking about other people, and we both knew it.
โThis is one photoshoot, Butterfly.โ Another brush of his thumb, another gallop of my heart. โThe first half was practice. The second half is yours. Do you understand?โ
It was impossible not to get swept away by Christianโs confidence.
Instead of adding a brick to my worries about not living up to expectations, his faith in me fortified me enough to lock those ugly, taunting voices in my head back in the box where they belonged.
โYes,โ I said, my lungs tight but my breathing easier than itโd been all afternoon.
โGood.โ His lips dipped and touched mine in the softest of kisses.
It wasnโt the first time weโd gotten this close, but it felt more effortless.
Less of a kiss, more of a promise.
My nerves settled while everything around me disappeared for one long moment.
Then the moment was gone, and so was he, but the warmth of his presence and the phantom brush of his mouth lingered.
Another flutter disrupted my heartbeat.
Cool, calm, collected.
I steeled my spine and faced Ricardo again with a smile. โIโm ready.โ
If the first half of the shoot was a disaster, the second half was a revelation. Whatever had been blocking me unstuck, and Ricardoโs rapid shutter clicks filled the studio with renewed enthusiasm.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
And we were done.
I hadnโt moved more than a few inches the entire time, yet my heart thundered like Iโd just ran the New York Marathon.
โPerfect! You are stunning, darling, despite the, ah, rocky start.โ Ricardo winked at me. โYou were made for the camera. The final photos are going to be gorgeous!โ
โThank you,โ I murmured, but I barely heard the rest of his gushing.
My eyes searched the stark white room until they found Christian.
He stood in the back corner. Still on a business call, still gorgeous in his suit and tie, and still watching me with those eyes of whiskey over ice.
Despite the phone pressed to his ear and the hungry stares of every woman and several men in the room pinned on him, he didnโt look away when I gave him a playful wink and smile.
It was an off-the-cuff, in-the-moment sort of thing, and not the type of action Iโd usually take with a man I had barely even kissed.
But I was riding high after the shoot, and Christian was so composed all the time I wanted to knock him off-kilter.
Just once, just a little bit.
Nothing, however, couldโve prepared me for the devastation his lazy, answering smile wrought on my heart.
The butterflies lying dormant in my stomach went crazy, and I suddenly knew, with all the certainty in the world, that they were there to stay.
