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“Maybe Becca can get a
rise.” Gayle kept her voice low as she motioned the third model forward.

Becca was so beautiful, no
man could resist her. Her fragility offset Kason's immense strength. They made
a good-looking couple, so complementary, Dayne could barely breathe.

Dayne did her best to
separate business from the pleasure she'd known with Kason. It was darn hard to
see him with another woman when images of them horizontal on a mattress crowded
out thoughts of the campaign.

She fought her feelings,
took the high road. She wanted only the best for the Platinum commercial. She
hoped Becca would engage his full attention. They were out of models.

Off to the side, the camera
crew and wardrobe advisor grew antsy. Gayle de Milo wanted the segments wrapped
by six sharp. There'd be no break for lunch. It was going to be a very long
day.

Gayle turned to Revelle,
and said loud enough that Dayne could also hear, “No heat with Becca. The man's
healthy, red-blooded, and not gay. I want him to strip a woman with his eyes.”

“Maybe you have the wrong
man,” Revelle softly suggested.

“Kason's perfect,” Gayle
asserted. “He's tough, unapproachable, but with the right woman, he'll soften.
That's the side of him I want for my ad.”

Dayne edged back, dropped
out of their conversation. Kason now stood alone behind the circular counter,
looking badass and ornery in the dim light. The models clustered by wardrobe,
all chatting with Albie and checking out the clothes.

Dayne took a deep,
steadying breath and approached him. “You're not a jewelry kind of guy,” she
said. “How can I make the shoot easier for you?”

“I could take you on the
counter.”

Color heated her cheeks. “No
sex tapes.”

He half smiled, shook his
head. “This whole campaign makes me uneasy. I'd never walk into Platinum on my
own. The last Mother's Day gift I gave was a pop-top necklace in the third
grade.” He cut his glance toward the models. “Breathing mannequins—too thin,
too plastic, not my type.”

Her lips twitched. “You
prefer a woman who claims squatter's rights and confiscates your trailer. Then
hauls a camper onto your land.”

“I like your tin can.” His
confession was deep and intimate, his gaze hot with memory. “I'm a big fan of
tight places and single mattresses.”

His words were a physical
caress.

Her entire body blushed.

Kason edged closer, crowded
her. She swore he sniffed her hair. “Fourteen days, and I can still feel you,
Dayne—soft, morning-warm, and open to me.”

A man of few words, Kason
said it all. Her body burned even hotter. His scent drove her crazy: raw,
sexual, with an interplay of sunshine and deep woods.

Hidden behind the counter,
his denim knee pressed between the pleats on her navy skirt. His Wranglers rode
rough against her smooth thighs. Her nipples puckered and her panties grew
damp. She was ten seconds to panting.

She'd sell her soul for a
private moment with this man. She wanted to tuck into his neck, nip his
whiskered chin, kiss the underside of his jaw, then work her way down his body,
slowly, lazily arousing him with her mouth, in the same manner he'd pleasured
her.

Kason's thoughts joined
with hers. His look was hungry, knowing, and utterly sinful. The lines of his
mouth had relaxed, and his breath felt hot against her brow. Discreetly, he
took her hand and rubbed his calloused thumb across the pulse at her wrist. Her
heart raced for him.

Her sigh was almost a moan.
If they weren't at Platinum—

“That's the look!”
Gayle de Milo's shout and applause drew everyone's
attention to the center of the star. “Kason and your assistant,” she said to
Revelle. “That's the match.”

Dayne's nerves were
hot-wired, and she stepped back so fast she knocked into the jewelry case.

Kason grabbed her arm,
steadied her.

“Hmm, might work.” Revelle
studied them both. “He stripped her with his eyes.”

Dayne raised her hands,
desperately tried to explain away the heat of their moment. “You're wrong;
you've misread the situation. We were just talking—”

“Some conversation,” said
Gayle, her smile now wide. “Trust me, honey—you were naked.”

Dayne couldn't breathe,
couldn't swallow, couldn't meet anyone's eye. Kason rubbed his palm low on her
spine, a reassuring gesture that didn't fully calm her.

She didn't want to be in
the spotlight. Yet Gayle had targeted her for the shoot. She wished the idea
away.

“We have
the look.”
Gayle was elated. “Let's get them in wardrobe and shoot the first promo,
see how it shakes out.”

Gayle went on to dismiss
the models, then motioned to Albie. “Wardrobe, please. I want the first outfits
to be casual—we'll build to the wedding gown.”

Dayne's knees gave out. Had
Kason not had her back, she'd have hit the floor. “Wedding gown?” She'd been
out of the room when they'd inserted that segment.

“The exchange of vows is
crucial,” Gayle told her. “We'll work through Mother's Day, additional gifts,
then showcase my infinity wedding bands in the final segment.”

Gayle clapped her hands. “On
task—let's go.”

Dayne couldn't move. Her
knees had locked and her feet felt like cement blocks. She looked to Kason for
support, only to find him looking inordinately pleased. The corners of his
mouth curved into a semblance of a grin.

He looked freakin' happy.

She raised a brow. “You're
enjoying this?”

“Damn straight,” he
admitted. “Misery loves company. You'll see what it's like living in the
spotlight, and value your privacy ten times over.”

“Breathe in; breathe out;
move on,” Dayne chanted, but the air seemed stuck in her lungs, and she found
it difficult to exhale.

Albie was on them in a
heartbeat, clothes on hangers in hand. “Solid colors work best.” He draped a
mauve blouse over Dayne's shoulder, pressed a pair of gray tailored slacks to
her waist. “Perfect. Low-heeled pumps and
 
we're good to go. No jewelry in the first shoot.”

“For the bruiser—” He
looked at Kason. “Gayle wants you dark and untouchable.” He pursed his lips,
said, “We go all black with mirrored aviators. That's how Dayne's image will
first be captured, as a reflection in your lenses.”

Once everyone was
outfitted, the extras took their places at the star points, and Dayne was
positioned in the middle. Someone had laid out a selection of earrings on a
square, gray velvet cushion, from diamond studs to tiered chandeliers. She
stood in profile, her hair loose and styled to shadow her face.

“Relax,” Gayle called to
her. “Keep your eyes on the jewelry until Kason approaches. Then it's all about
first looks and immediate attraction.”

The jeweler paused, her
mind working. “During the thirty-second ad, you're going to help him select the
perfect Mother's Day gift. At twenty-five seconds, the camera will close in on
the double-hoop drop pearl earrings inlaid with tiny diamond hearts. There's no
dialogue, so we'll run a full description in the final narration.”

“Shouldn't we rehearse at
least once?” Dayne was a bundle of nerves.

Gayle shook her head. “The
more natural, the better.”

The store grew quiet, the
spotlights warm. Angled away from the door, Dayne couldn't see Kason's
entrance, yet she could feel him. His presence filled the room, larger than
life. In a tick of seconds, he was beside her.

He flattened his hands on
the showcase, peered down. That's when Dayne chanced a glance. He sensed her
stare, and turned slightly. She caught her reflection in his mirrored shades,
and didn't recognize herself. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. The shift
in her breathing couldn't be faked—Kason had that effect on her. She'd gone
visibly soft for the man.

He removed his aviators and
hit her with a smoldering once-over, his dark brown eyes unholy. He looked
ready to lift her onto the showcase and slide home. She hoped her blush
wouldn't clash with her mauve blouse.

The seconds swept by as
they brushed wrists, touched fingers, and both admired the same pair of
earrings. Kason laid the gold double hoops on his wide palm. The contrast of
pearls and diamonds against his workhardened calluses made the earrings appear
twice as delicate. The camera zoomed in, and the jewelry stole the show.

Gayle de Milo applauded
them. “Absolutely perfect,” she praised. “The gold hoops set the stage for the
next spot. The narration will indicate that Kason bought a pair for both his
mother and the mystery lady who's captured his interest. Dayne will wear those
earrings in the next four spots.”

Under Gayle's direction,
the campaign flowed smoothly. Albie updated their wardrobe as Kason and Dayne
next returned to Platinum to celebrate their one-week anniversary. Kason rolled
his eyes, scowled, but Dayne claimed the occasion sweet.

It was here that he
presented her with a long strand of turquoise and green tourmaline. Simple and
elegant, the beautiful necklace seemed to glow on the pale skin of her
cleavage.

Shoot three brought the two
of them into the jewelers for a one-month gift. A sterling heart bracelet
announced they were a couple. Dayne liked the idea of belonging to him.

In the fourth segment,
Albie forced Kason into a sport coat. Kason's muscles went taut, his expression
pained. The seams stretched, and the front hung open. The buttons wouldn't
close over his chest. Kason was a big man.

Dayne slipped into a pencil
skirt with a cream blouse and military-style jacket. With her hair twisted into
a French braid, her face was fully exposed. A hint of color sharpened her
cheekbones. She looked elegant, different, in this sophisticated attire.

The brooch Kason attached
to her lapel made her sigh. The oval amethyst in an antique setting had a
timeless beauty. A woman would hand down the piece to her daughter. The brooch
would stay in the family for generations to come.

The day came to a close
with only one spot left to shoot. The wedding scene.
 
Decorations—white tissue paper bells and two silver
foil gift boxes—were spread across the jewelry counter, along with an imitation
wedding cake. The moment was surreal. In this single day she'd gone from being
Kason's neighbor to his bride.

But a promotional campaign
didn't constitute a relationship. She needed to slow her heart, reset reality.

Albie hovered like the
mother of the bride as he fitted her gown. The column of ivory satin seduced
with its simple elegance. The focus would be on the exchange of wedding bands,
not on her imaginary walk down the aisle.

Albie led her to Kason, and
Dayne took in his latest look. Kason was not a man born for a tux, but in this
case, no one could fault the formal fit. The dark stubble at his jaw contrasted
with the cream of his dress shirt. There was an insolence to the man that said
he'd never conform, that he'd always live by his own rules. Yet he'd meet the
right woman halfway as they walked down the aisle.

Kason stared at Dayne as if
seeing her for the first time. Gayle de Milo gave them precious minutes to
adjust to the formality of the moment. Crystal flutes sparkled with champagne.
The couple would make a toast in the final seconds, followed by a camera
close-up on their rings.

It was twenty minutes to
six; time was short, and there could be no mistakes in the final segment.

Gayle made a few
suggestions. “Fall hard, fall fast. Let your emotions show. Don't hold back.”

The roll of the camera set
them in motion. In those initial seconds, Kason focused only on Dayne. He
skimmed his knuckles down her cheek, then gently cupped her jaw. Time ceased to
exist as he slanted his mouth over hers.

He kissed her as a groom
would his bride. Drawn into his body, she clutched his forearms, and her nails
scored his tux sleeves. They stood so close, she could feel the beat of his
heart in her own breast.

He slowly lifted his head
and they looked into each other's eyes. Kason could act; he appeared a man
humbled by his woman's love.