Savor (20 page)

where Calixta argued with me about removing my patch and I told her in many colorful and

creative words she’d have to pry it from my cold, dead face, the director of the video forced

me to trudge in the snow in stiletto boots while Poison played in the background. Calixta,

bemoaning my “tacky”—her word, not mine—patch, struck a compromise. She made it work

by blow drying my hair so the strands covered half my face. She retouched my lipstick before

I weaved through the trees in one section of the properly. The graying light gave me

confidence that I wouldn’t break my neck in the dark, but I moved slowly anyway to

compensate for my depth perception issues. The heavy skirt dragged behind me in the snow,

creating a hushed hiss. The director asked me to look over my shoulder and pout. I did as

asked, biting down to keep from laughing. The photographer had become the model, and I

didn’t know how to feel about it. Ridiculous was the word that came to mind.

When the director yelled cut, I asked one of the servants to grab my camera from my

room. It pained me to have someone else touch my pride and joy, but if I wanted to capture

pictures of this moment, then I needed my camera. Calixta pulled me out of my room so fast

that I didn’t have time to take it with me.

Not ten minutes later, I felt better with its familiar weight in my hands. We must have

been shooting for an hour now and I still hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the band. Calixta’s

assistant in her awesome mohawk ran up to retouch my makeup.

“Ugh!” she said. “With your pale skin and that gorgeous dress, your lips are just luscious.

This color suits you so well, I’m envious.”

I chuckled in embarrassment. The closest I ever got to makeup was concealer for

particularly splotchy days after a sleepless night and cherry Chap Stick.

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one here.” I scanned the crew. “Where’s the band?”

“Oh, they’re with Calixta for hair and makeup.”

“What? You mean I had to be up super early and they’re just in hair and makeup now?” I

leaned away from the giant puff she patted my face with. I grumbled and whined. I knew this.

I accepted it.

“They haven’t slept.” The assistant sighed. “We all haven’t slept.”

Her confirmation of my suspicions deflated some of my attitude. “Can I at least have some

coffee?” I didn’t have to worry about freezing because of the multiple layers of skirt and the full-length kidskin gloves Calixta shoved my arms into. But caffeine would be nice before I

keeled over from exhaustion. Trudging in the snow in a two ton dress was a workout on a

body with little to no sleep.

The assistant grimaced at me. “And ruin my perfect lipstick application?”

“If you say no, I can’t promise not to throw a tantrum,” I warned.

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna have to drink it out of a straw.”

I grinned, showing teeth. “The perfect compromise.”

The band finally made an appearance around midmorning. Their instruments had been set

up by one of the great fountains. Phoenix cooed at my dress, taking my hands in hers.

Demitri made a lewd comment about birds while Dray shared a fact about feathers. Luka said

nothing. But then again, he merely had to stare. The heat in his eyes was enough to convey

what he was thinking. My stomach tumbled. I almost reached up to touch my patch.

Yana called out instructions like a general, superseding the director, who seemed content

to have her take the reins. Smart man. I didn’t think anyone who argued with Yana lived to

tell the tale.

Happy I wasn’t needed for this portion of the video I sat down and went into photographer

mode. All the band members wore heavy eye makeup, which emphasized their eye color.

Seeing the guys in their leather kilts made me smile. Luka and Demitri looked hot, but Dray

was downright adorable. He grumbled about having his junk hanging out since he had to sit

down. Demitri told his brother he didn’t have to worry since the bass drum covered

everything.

Phoenix was the only one not in a kilt. Instead, she wore tight leather pants that seemed

like they were painted on and a tank top similar to the one Luka and Dray wore. Demitri, as

usual and to the delight of the women on set, remained shirtless, exposing his magnificent

tattoos. If I had that much ink done I’d show them off too.

Everyone took their positions and the director called action. For this set up, the band

would sing Poison without having to change locations. They let the song play out then the

director asked for a camera to get a three-sixty shot of the band while performing the song.

This one shot lasted ninety minutes. By now everyone on the crew had Poison memorized.

Thank goodness the song was catchy or my ears would have been bleeding. Everyone took an

hour for lunch but just as quickly got back to work.

My gaze kept darting to Luka, watching him work. He conferred with the director then

with Yana. He spoke to everyone in the crew, down to the grips, whose job I wasn’t a hundred

percent positive about. Luka remained serious yet courteous. He seemed to like being

involved in every aspect of the process and the production staff accommodated his questions

and requests. Despite being a perfectionist, everyone respected Luka. I admired him more

now than ever. From what I’d heard about rock stars, Luka didn’t seem to fit the mold when

he wasn’t in front of a mic or playing the bass. Outside of performing, he acted professional

and involved.

By sunset, the crew set up for the final piece of the shoot. The director explained it to me

while Calixta took over the job of fixing my makeup. Not that there was anything to fix. I had been good about keeping myself out of trouble while taking incredible promo shots for Yana.

Apparently, for this part of the video, I would be lying on the concrete slab while Luka

sang to me. It seemed simple enough, and since I would have my eyes closed, I could relax.

The director even complemented me on my patch, thinking it was part of the overall look. I

didn’t correct him.

Since only one camera would be used, I pushed away my anxiety of having someone else

work my camera and handed it to the other cameraman who wouldn’t be working. He said he

would take care of it and actually seemed impressed with my set up. His competence was

what gave me the confidence to walk away without throwing a worried parent fit at having

someone else hold my baby.

One of the grips helped me onto the slab, which was more than a meter off the ground.

Intricate symbols decorated the whole thing. It reminded me of ancient altars used for

sacrifices. Before my mind could question its presence on the Lunar Manor property, Yana

came over and adjusted the massive skirt of the dress.

“I can’t get over how beautiful this dress is,” she said, smoothing over the feathers.

“You thinking of wearing something other than the Gothic Lolita look?” I teased.

She pursed her lips. “For this dress, maybe.”

“The skirt alone probably weighs more than you.”

We shared a laugh until Luka walked onto set. My throat closed as my eyes hungrily

traveled his body. He wore the kilt without the tank top now. His muscles didn’t bulge the

way Demitri’s did, but he certainly had definition. And holy mother of God he had a bolt on

his nipple. Just how many piercings did this guy have?

Suddenly, the dress felt like an oven. But I refused to fan my face. He gave me a quick

wink before the director stared barking instructions. I thought I would finally get a chance to see his back tattoo, but I was asked to lie down. The director weaved my fingers together and

rested my clasped hands on my belly.

The second I closed my eye, Poison began playing in the background. The whole day Luka

had lip-synched. At first I thought it was the track I was hearing, but when I felt his breath against my face I realized he was singing live.

Shivers quaked through my body when Luka reached the chorus. Was he singing to me? I

couldn’t open my eye to make sure because it would ruin the shot. As someone who knew a

thing or two about getting the perfect picture, I didn’t want to be the cause of a reshoot. Plus, the temperature dropped with the sun. I didn’t want Luka to have to be half-naked longer

than he had to be.

One take, one take, one take¸
I mentally kept repeating to myself.

A gasp almost escaped my lips when I felt Luka’s callused fingers caress my cheek. I

desperately wanted to see what was happening. He traced my lips with his fingertips, the

emotion in his voice reaching into my chest and closing around my heart in a powerful grip.

Without knowing how it happened, a tear slipped out of my eye. Luka kissed it away before it

reached the slab I lay on. I sucked in a surprised breath. My eye opened to see his face

hovering over mine, a tender expression there that I couldn’t understand.

Just when I thought I’d ruined the shot and we’d have to start over, Luka lowered his lips

to mine. His tongue swept into my mouth, and I tasted the salt of my tear.

Chapter Twenty

Clarification

I spent the next day wandering the halls of Lunar Manor in a complete daze like a crazy

person on too many meds. No one bothered me. The household was beat after the video

shoot. I enjoyed the quiet, only occasionally running into a bleary-eyed maid. Deidra was

nowhere to be found.

Hour after hour I replayed the very public, very deep kiss. In fact, the kiss was so deep, I

felt Luka’s tongue ring scrape across the roof of my mouth. The worst part? Because there

had to be one. The kiss ended to applause. Applause! What were we, some sort of sideshow?

I laid on the slab unmoving while Yana wrapped a robe around Luka’s steaming body. It

had gotten so cold that his body heat rose from him in mists. Without helping me up, he

walked away with his sister. He said something about replaying the video. The director yelled

“that’s a wrap” and
finally
someone—the cameraman taking pictures for me—helped me off the slab. He handed my camera over with a grin and said he hoped I liked the pictures. I

couldn’t hear him properly anymore because my daze had begun.

By the second day, I refused to stay in my stupor. I uploaded the photos into my laptop

without looking at them and cleared the memory of my digicard. I told myself I would take

pictures and I had the determination to actually get it done.

After a cup of coffee and half a grapefruit, I ambled around the first floor in search of any

Vicious band member that wasn’t Luka. I didn’t want to see him right now. Thank God dinner

had been cancelled last night due to fatigue—the reason Yana gave me when she called my

room. I wouldn’t have been able to sit at that table without screaming my frustration at Luka.

I wanted to talk to someone about what happened, make sense of things, but I never had

any close girlfriends growing up. Silvia came pretty close. Unfortunately, the breach of the

NDA to talk to her about Luka shut my mouth. I couldn’t bring myself to discuss anything

with Yana or Phoenix because they seemed way too close to the subject of my current

madness.

Dejected and almost hopeless, I hadn’t noticed I’d strolled into an unfamiliar hallway.

Huh. More than a week in the manor and I still had places left unexplored. I could only pray I wouldn’t get lost again and waste more of my picture taking time.

At the end of the hallway was a door left ajar. Curious as to what I would find—because

how bad could it be—I eagerly stepped closer. My heart beat faster at the prospect of

discovering something new only to step into a smaller version of the library.

My enthusiasm would have deflated if not for the lead guitarist of Vicious sitting behind a

massive desk with his feet up, a book on his lap, and reading glasses perched on the straight

line of his nose. He had a shirt on, much to my relief. I couldn’t take another close encounter with his body. Distractions weren’t welcome today.

Before Demitri could notice me, I snapped a couple shots. The sun streaming in from the

window behind him cast beautiful shadows along the perfect plains of his face. The photo

would look good in both black and white and in color. I already had several filters in mind as tinting options. Not many photographers could say that. But considering my subject, it didn’t

surprise me at all.

“Did you know Slash is one of the best six string slingers in the world?” Demitri asked

without taking his eyes off the book. “He can make a guitar sing. Like literally sing.”

“I’m sorry.” I shifted my weight. “Am I interrupting your reading?”

Demitri turned the page as if I wasn’t there, but he said, “This is my private study. The

place where I can get away and know no one would dare disturb me.”

Despite the lack of admonishment in his tone, his words still spread guilt in my gut. I

dropped my gaze. “I can leave.”

“Don’t do that.”

Okay, totally confused now, I raised my eye to catch Demitri grinning at me. He waved me

forward and pointed at the chair across from his desk. I inched closer. He kept his steady gaze on me as I took a seat at the edge of the leather chair. The cushion crunched beneath my

weight and I winced. It sounded so loud in such a quiet room.

The silence continued for a couple more minutes. I never thought of myself as the shy

type, even with my patch. Most people would cower away. I’d learned to embrace what I had.