Pretty Bitches (5 page)

When I finally made it to his face I almost whimpered. It was angelic and drop-dead fucking gorgeous. His chiseled features defined his angular face. The muscles on the sides of his jaw twitched as he smiled and his lips were a rosy shade of pink that had a perfect plump equaled on top and bottom. I noticed when he blinked that his eyelashes had a natural curve that highlighted the black circle that rimmed his irises. I’d never seen a pair that uniquely beautiful. I was stunned into silence—in a trance.

He actually took my hand in his when he realized I was immobile. I didn’t jerk away because I found it oddly soothing. Like it pulled all the negative energy from my body.

I found my voice and in a slightly hoarse tone offered, “Emberly Landon.”

His grin became a blinding show of teeth. “Yes, this is also not news to me, Gemma.”

He was still holding my hand and didn’t appear to be letting go anytime soon. I gently pulled back. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

His lips formed a pout as he thought about his answer. Then he simply shrugged seeming to just come clean. “It’s just a little term my people use to describe someone like you.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean someone like me?”

He smiled again pausing before he replied, “Dead fucking sex and big fucking trouble for the heart.”

I was instantly aware of the pull he was beginning to have on me. This was dangerous and he needed to be kept at bay. These strange feeling I was having for a complete but familiar stranger were unsettling to say the least. My guard was slipping and it felt as though I was in danger of sharing my most intimate secrets and desires with him. That has never happened to me before and I was scared shitless.

I turned on my heel effectively ending the conversation and nearly sprinted back to the main tent. I didn’t hear him follow me and I was internally thanking him because there was no telling what I would have done next.

I yanked the plastic fabric back and hustled into the busy room. Pamela took in my face and immediately rose from her chair and stalked across the tent. “Oh God. What happened? What’s wrong?”

The look on her face was sheer horror and for some reason it had me burst into a loud cackle of laughter. She was openly staring at me now probably measuring my sanity, as was I.

After a few moments the laughter came under control and I asked, “Where is my Glenlivet?” My eyes rolled around the room in search of my amber medicine. It was the only thing that could get me in control and settled.

She shook her head willing the answer to form. “Um… I think it’s in the makeup tent with our bags. Want me to go get it?”

I dramatically nodded my head. “Yes!”

She scurried from the tent and emerged five minutes later with my decanter and a glass. I wasted no time filling it to the brim and gulping half the contents in the first taste. She was prompting me with her eyes when I had nearly drained the glass in five minutes.

This whiskey is made for sipping not gulping.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just get this day over with. Are the models ready for the first series of shots?” My tone exasperated and a little uneven, thanks to the whisky that had gone straight to my head.

I poured another giant glass full and strolled from the tent with Pamela flanking my heels. I could practically hear the mental warning bells going off in her head but I ignored her and continued my trek to the most dreaded day of work in my life because of the man that had the ability to completely dismantle me.

CHAPTER 2: THE DATE

The dismal gray shadows lingering over the
snow-covered ground signaled the end of the day. Normally I would stay several more hours coursing through the tons of photos picking just the perfect ones, but I was in no mood to continue my emotional ping pong tournament with tall dark and gorgeous.

He was potent.

As soon as they began breaking down the equipment I hurled myself across the open area and made a beeline for the car. Pamela and Charles followed spurting protests in my wake. I ignored them and practically lunged into the back seat.

When they each folded in and began pursing their lips readying for the onslaught of questions I held out my hand then placed my finger over my lips in a silence gesture and laid my head back against the seat. I had to get a grip on myself. It was as though I was unraveling and the entire world were witnessing the tragedy.

They remained silent for the entire three-hour ride back to our rooms. I found myself oddly humming a satisfied tune when we pulled in front of the house. I felt at ease and almost a little giddy to see Miss Beverly.

I shook my head. What in holy hell was
wrong
with me? I huffed as I climbed out of the car and stomped up the steps. When the door opened this time it was an alien little body with pigtails and a familiar smile spread across her face.

She never said a word, just stood to the side and watched me like a hawk as I immediately started up the stairs. Once I was in my room, door closed, I just leaned back and enjoyed the solitude. Suddenly realizing that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and had damn near an entire decanter of whiskey. No bueno I told me self and walked over to the bedside table picking up the antique receiver.

“Yes, hello, Miss Beverly. Ah, yes it was a good day. No, the weather stayed lovely. Mm hmm. Right.” I sighed because she wasn’t letting me get a word in. Finally there was a brief silence and I struck. “I was wondering if someone could bring up my dinner tonight? I have a lot to do and I need to get started.”

That was a lie of sorts. I had a lot to do but it had absolutely nothing to do with work. It had to do with the clusterfuck currently residing in my brain.

Within ten minutes there was a series of gentle taps on my door. I crossed the room and smiled when I took in the delicious looking spread on the familiar silver tray. There was a hearty pot roast with potatoes and crisp green beans with a heavenly looking piece of chocolate cake that had me wiping drool.

We were smiling at each other when I lifted the tray and she turned for the stairs. Once I had everything set up at the office table I basically annihilated the entire plate all but licking it clean.

After my bath I lay against the pillows and stared up at the intricate carvings in the wooden canopy. My thoughts basically revving through my brain. Why does he have such an affect on me? Its like I shut down and all that matters to me at that moment is his presence, his skin, the way he seems to see through my pretenses. And those eyes—those eyes pierce me and do funny things to the organ inside my chest.

I pressed the heels of my hands hard over my eyes willing the images of his face to disappear. The remainder of the night included lots of twisting and turning, even a few fairly lengthy strings of profanity.

When I heard the familiar rapts at the door signaling the start to my day I moaned. I not only hadn’t slept a wink but I was still just as fucked up as I had been last night.

I slung my legs over the bed and stomped to the door. Miss Beverly greeted me with the usual smile and magic drink in a cup. I gave a curt smile while I took the tray and eased the door shut.

Today called for drastic measures. I basically mismatch every article of clothing. Mission critical—turn him away. I opted for a blank face today, not even mascara and grabbed my jacket.

Pamela and Charles were waiting in the foyer when I reached the platform at the bottom. “Are we at the same location today?” I asked, irritated.

Charles matched my scowl. “Yes and we are prepared, you?”

I narrowed my eyes and he realized his misstep immediately and began eating his own tongue.

My teeth were clenched because I was too angry to relax my jaw when I hissed, “DO NOT fuck with me today.”

He nodded severely and stepped aside to let me lead.

The ride was just as long as the previous day but my irritation afforded me the gift of paying no attention whatsoever to the drive. When we finally finished our hike and came into the clearing the scene still took my breath away. Today the lighting was more of a brassy gold giving everything an amber tinge. It was stunning.

It took absolutely one minute for Cailen to spear me with his eyes across the field. It was like a fucking magnet or something—alarming how aware I was of his presence and it seemed equally heightened to him.

We stood staring at one another for several moments. Long enough for Pamela to clear her throat and have me turning to meet the smirk on her face.

With narrowed eyes I asked, “Don’t you have something to be doing?”

She theatrically shook her head and sauntered off toward the tent whispering to Charles as she sidestepped several cables.

By the time I took my irritated gaze off their retreating figures I turned to notice that Cailen had closed the distance between us and was now within feet of me wearing that sexy fucking grin and displaying that tattoo that I found utterly fascinating.

His confident swagger had me humming between my thighs. He came to a stop just inches from my face and I could feel his breath, which smelled like butterscotch and coffee.

I wanted to lick his lips.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and I couldn’t help but notice the massive bulge he was sporting, which pulled a grin to my lips.

Those mesmerizing eyes were causing butterflies to flutter my stomach.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He said with that wickedly deep Scottish accent. “You are going to give the models complexes. It’s not right for you to show them up so epically.”

His voice literally had my thighs shaking.

I was imagining these thighs wrapped around those muscular hips and grinding, using my years of Pilates and gymnastics to absolutely bake his mind.

I heard a small chuckle and looked up to realize I had been playing out that entire fantasy staring right at his crotch. I was mortified and he was beaming.

I turned to just walk away and he gently wrapped his massive hands around my forearm. It was like a jolt of electricity. I felt like one of those fiber optic trees—every one of the hairs on my body lit up.

“Do you have plans for dinner?” He asked with the softest expression on his face.

Instinctually I answered immediately, “No, no plans yet.”

His responding smile was very toothy and absolutely endearing. “Pick you up at eight.” It wasn’t a question just a statement before he turned and walked away.

I stood there a good minute willing my brain to communicate what had just happened. I aimed myself toward the tent and just began walking all the while smiling like an idiot.

The rest of the day was a complete blur. I watched Cailen work and realized how extraordinary he really was. His hand eye coordination was precise and the shots coming over the preview screen in my tent were breathtaking. He was telling a story right in front of my eyes in photos.

I managed to actually get a little work done approving many of the prints and sending Pamela off with a satisfied look. When the shadows signaled another end to the day I felt the butterflies gathering in my stomach.

I was nervous.

And that was such a foreign feeling for me. I’d never been nervous about anything. Not even my first day at Vogue when I had come over from a huge British publication in London. It just wasn’t my nature but for some reason this man made me stupid.

Pamela and Charles exchanged several looks and nudged one another a few times during the ride home prompting me to finally say, “What?” My tone more pleasing than I had intended, took me off guard.

Pamela smiled wide. “You look… rather, happy.”