Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Hey, that’s my–” but he’d twisted the knob, pushed it open, and was looking around my bedroom before I could finish my sentence. It was the nicest room in the apartment. My mom had insisted on painting a mural on the wall my bed sat against. Inky black with bruised-purple hibiscus and ghostly pale Cereus blooming across it. It was beautiful, but until now, I hadn’t realized how sensual it was. Especially since the bed was one of the only pieces of furniture in the room. I’d sacrificed floor space to fit a queen-sized, wrought-iron bed frame in. It was covered with a dark purple silk comforter, stacks of pillows against the scrolled metal headboard.
It looked like an invitation.
Julian shut the door abruptly and slid his palms down the front of his jeans, taking a moment before turning back to me. There was no amusement on his face now. He sank down into the armchair that sat perpendicular to the couch, and we looked at each other.
“We have a problem, Laurier,” he said finally. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“You could keep your hands off me,” I suggested, but I couldn’t keep up my defiant attitude. We both knew my hands had been on him every bit as much as his had been on me. When Julian’s mouth twisted into a frown, I dropped my eyes.
“I could,” Julian agreed after a disapproving silence.
Disappointment flooded through me. Where had that come from?
“But it would still be there between us. Whatever it is. I know you felt it, too.”
I wasn’t cut out for PR; I couldn’t even try to deny it. I pulled Camper onto my lap to give my hands something to do besides reach for Julian again. It had been a long time since I’d kissed anyone like that. Since I’d let anyone get close enough to touch me like that. I hadn’t realized how much I’d craved it. But it was an itch that he of all people couldn’t scratch. If I searched this entire town, I wouldn’t find a worse choice. I was lying to him about who I was. I was supposed to be spying on him. “So what do we do?” I asked finally.
“I could fire you.”
I rolled my eyes, half-relieved to be back in familiar territory. “Why does every conversation come back to that?”
Julian smiled faintly. “Because I don’t trust you, Willow. And worse, I want you.”
The bald declaration took my breath away. I was used to playing games, or else sweet, gradual insinuations. Do you want to get a drink with me? Do you want to see my place? Those were easy to handle. But this wasn’t a game, and Julian wasn’t playing.
“You can’t tell me you want me and fire me in the same sentence,” I pointed out, trying to put some snap back into my voice. Why did it sound so soft? Practically trembling. “Do you know what the media would do if they knew that Julian Lewis of Lewis Productions was telling a production assistant–”
“A production assistant,” Julian interrupted. “Is that really all you are, Willow Laurier? Because I’ve never met a production assistant like you.”
No, I imagined he hadn’t. I wouldn’t put it past Fletcher to have more illegitimate daughters running around, but how many could he have counterfeited into Julian’s employ? And how many would be as fantastically stupid as to fall into the arms of the man they were supposed to be spying on?
But I couldn’t say any of that, so I blustered, “I–of course that’s not all I am. I’m a person, Julian, and–”
But he was shaking his head in grim amusement again. “I don’t know what this says about me, Willow, but even when I know you’re lying your ass off, I want you. And you want me, too. Don’t lie about that.”
I couldn’t. I wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come. I pressed my lips tightly together and looked away. Safer not to look into those glittering eyes for longer than I had to, but that meant my gaze ran headlong into my bedroom door. For a minute, I let the fantasy play out in my head. Leading him in there, pulling him down onto the sumptuous bed I’d never shared with anyone else, the weight of him pushing me down into the mattress.
“I won’t lie about it,” I said, pulling my gaze away from the door, my mind out of the fantasy. “But there’s nothing we can do about it. I need this job, obviously, and you need me on this set. Miller trusts me.”
Julian snorted. “And they call the man a genius.”
“Besides,” I added pointedly. “Just because this thing is mutual doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong. I’m your employee. The power imbalance–”
“The power imbalance?” Julian repeated incredulously. “You’ve never once given a shit about my power, Laurier.”