Caught on Camera (31 page)

“Except then they’d want me to be on camera out in the field.”

“But, honey, you’re honestly fantastic. So good, in fact, there’s zero doubt in my mind you should forget video journalism and go straight for anchor. You’d be an instant hit.”

She flopped back on her bed and sank into the rumpled down comforter. She didn’t want to be an anchor. If she ever got up the nerve to actually go for what she wanted, sitting at a desk reading from a teleprompter wouldn’t be it.

“I need to go, Bob.” Having another repeat of this conversation would get them both nowhere. “I’ll be getting clips of JP around town today, hanging out at his favorite places and such, then I’m accompanying him on a date tonight.”

She thumped her fist against her forehead at the snarky tone her voice took on at the mentioned date. Bob wouldn’t miss that.

“A date?” Pause. “That’ll be great for the show.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll more than turn on the charm. Women viewers will eat that up.” She uttered the expected words, then held her breath, knowing he wouldn’t leave it alone that easily.

“So what happened in Anguilla…that’s over?” he asked after several seconds’ pause. He hadn’t mentioned the second photo that had come out, but she had no doubt he’d seen it. The man couldn’t have missed it.

Along with the photo—a cleaned-up version, thank goodness—practically every step she’d taken the last couple of days had been broadcast on around-the-clock news stations, along with every trashy tabloid out there. They’d figured out she had secured JP’s first behind-the-scenes interview, and were now playing guessing games as to whether it was because she was sleeping with him or not. At least it seemed to keep them from digging too deep into her past, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

“Yes, it’s over. I know you’re probably disappointed in me, but…”

What could she say? Some men she just lost her head over?

“Not disappointed, honey, just concerned. It’s not like you to get caught…” He cleared his throat. “As you did. Heck, it’s not like you to do anything of the sort. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

A tear escaped the corner of each eye as she lay there staring up at the rotating ceiling fan. She pinched the bridge of her nose to try to keep more from falling. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“And you’re okay with this date tonight?”

She couldn’t stop the painful laugh that escaped. “It’s exactly what I knew it would be, Bob. Sunday and Monday was nothing serious. Just a good time.”

He chuckled. “If you say so, but I have to admit, you raised your hand Saturday night like a woman on a mission.”

She groaned. He’d already brought up the auction when they’d talked on the plane Monday evening. “Don’t even bring that up again, it’s history. We’re calling that episode…heck, we’ll call everything from then through Monday temporary insanity. Every girl deserves that at least once in her life, right?”

Easy laughter was her answer. “Sure does, kid. And I’d say you’ve paid your dues over the years. You deserved a momentary lapse. Tell me before you go, though, who’s his date with?”

She smirked at the irony, knowing Bob would get it as well. “Greta Kirby.”

This time, instead of a light chuckle, she got a full minute of rollicking laughter. And she couldn’t say she blamed him.

By the time Bob finally had himself under control, Vega was beginning to snicker at the situation herself. Of course the first man she’d gone gaga over in years, she’d end up having to watch—to record!—on a romantic date with the woman who’d beat her out.

Not that she thought JP would let himself get trapped by Greta for anything more than one night, but he was a man. And Greta was a very good-looking woman. Vega wouldn’t be surprised to find out they ended up exactly how she and JP had ended Sunday night. Buck naked, and eating chocolate cake crumbs off each other’s parts.

The pain that seared through her at the thought did nothing to improve her mood.

It was time to wrap up the conversation. “I really do need to run. I’m meeting JP for lunch at his favorite diner. I’ll send more video later tonight or in the morning. I think this will shape up to be a very nice program.”

“No doubt it will,” Bob said. He then turned his voice serious. “I may not be able to keep you down here in Savannah, kid, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still watching out for you. That includes the job situation, as well as the men in your life. You be careful with this one, okay?”

She appreciated his concern more than she’d probably ever told him. It was nice to know at least one person in the world had your back.

“Thanks, Bob.”

V
EGA SNAPPED HER
pen in two and silently cursed as she hurried to keep the ink from dousing her skirt. Yet another new skirt. At the rate she was buying clothes, she’d need a second new job just to pay for her wardrobe.

She glanced up to find JP watching her from the driver’s seat, and she practically hissed at him. How she’d come to be sitting beside him as he headed to pick up Greta for their date, she had no idea. This wasn’t at all what she’d envisioned for the week, though the logical part of her brain did point out what a fabulous opportunity it was. An in-depth interview of Atlanta’s hottest playboy wouldn’t be complete without seeing him in action on a hot date.

“Problem?” He reached across her to the vehicle’s glove compartment and pulled out a package of tissues.

“You’re my problem,” she muttered, yanking the tissues from his hand before her ego let her cause a bigger mess than she already had. As it was, the ink was contained to her palms, turning them a lovely dark blue. No need spreading it anywhere else.

JP didn’t reply. Instead he began humming under his breath to the country song playing softly on the radio. The chorus of Shania Twain’s “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?” began, leaving Vega to wonder if he was thinking of her bed or Greta’s.

“I still don’t know why you insisted I go with you to pick her up. I could have met you two at the restaurant. That would make it easier for me to disappear later when I’ve gotten all the material I need.” Or all she could stand. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d forgotten that Greta was out to catch a man, and had all the right parts to do it. Vega didn’t need to see it from the first second it started.

“I told you. When I asked if you joining us tonight with your camera was all right, Greta got overly excited. I think she’s looking forward to being on camera more than the date with me.”

“I doubt it.” She didn’t mean to say that out loud, but JP’s chuckle indicated he’d heard.

“Jealousy becomes you, babe. I like it.”

“I’m not jealous.” If she were the jealous type, the feeling would have flared up when JP had kicked her out of his office yesterday morning to entertain the gorgeous redhead. The girl had looked barely twenty, and Vega had been a little taken aback at catching her in JP’s arms before departing, but she supposed that was the norm for someone like him.

If she hadn’t been so furious with their prior actions in his office, she’d have called him out about having sex with her one minute then kicking her out to hug on another woman the next. Instead, she’d spent the remainder of the morning reminding herself that who he hugged didn’t matter to her. They were over.

She rooted around in her bag as if looking for something, hoping JP would return his attention to the road, but he didn’t take the hint.

“I would be jealous if our roles were reversed.” His voice was perfect tonight. Deep, gravelly. Sexy. “And if I had to watch, I’d punch the guy out.”

Why wouldn’t he take the hint? She did not want to talk. “I’m perfectly fine.”

The SUV slowed at a stoplight, and he turned on his signal. They were outside an elegantly gated community in Buckhead. Greta certainly knew how to live. But then, that’s what you got when you married a billionaire fifty years your senior. The poor man had been gone only a few months, and his widow was already on the prowl. The thought rippled a cold wave down Vega’s spine.

They crept up to the guard station and JP rolled down his window.

“Mr. Davenport,” the man practically announced. “Ms. Greta is expecting you.”

With a buzz, the gate opened and they drove in…and the knot in Vega’s stomach twisted and grew to the size of Texas. She did not want to see Greta Kirby, and all her assets, fawning all over JP.

So okay, maybe she was just the teeniest bit jealous, but dang, it had only been thirty-six hours ago she’d been ass-bare, thrusting back against the man herself. Now he was going to spend the evening entertaining one of the most stunning women—even if she was considered a joke—in Atlanta. And said woman was no doubt going to be putting everything she had out there.

Vega glanced out her side window as she wondered if he’d be receptive to what Greta offered, then wondered if there was any man alive who could conceivably say no. Of course he’d be receptive. He was single.
They
were over…not that they’d ever really started. And he was a young, virile man. Yep, he’d go to bed tonight after a full couple of days, sandwiched on either end by a naked woman unable to say no to him.

Fury returned at the thought of how easy she’d been yesterday morning. Had she learned nothing over the last eight years?

And she still couldn’t believe he’d made love to her up against his office window! Not that she worried anyone would’ve had a long lens in the building across the street,
and
had it pointed JP’s direction at that exact moment, but she had to be more careful.

She’d done much better today, but then, he also hadn’t been turning up the wattage of his charm and blasting it her direction. He’d been different since she’d blown up at him. Flirty, but not pushy. Charming, but more in the polite way. And still powerful, yet far more subdued. More as he’d been over the weekend, yet not exactly that either. His actions had actually made it more difficult to resist. Only, he hadn’t actually made another pass.

Her foot tapped on the floor mat as she replayed the previous morning and the moments leading up to her blowup. He had entered with the sole purpose of seducing her, totally ignoring her prior dictates that they were over, and coming after her as if he had a point to prove. Granted, he’d proven it. She didn’t have to like it, but he’d made it clear she couldn’t be alone in a room with him without succumbing.

She didn’t want to imagine what she would’ve done next if she hadn’t caught the flash of a predatory smile in his reflection as they’d finished. Her warm fuzzies had immediately turned frigid, and she’d felt as used as when she’d been with Ted. Only this time it had hurt more.

Then had come the horror when she’d thought he’d recorded them. It had taken several seconds to calm down enough to think rationally, and even then, she hadn’t fully believed him until she’d checked the camera to find that it had, in fact, been shut off.

The car stopped, and JP turned to face her. His eyes ran the length of her body, landing on the five-inch heels she’d worn to their first dinner. They were the closest things she had with her to power heels, and if she was going to be hanging out with two of Atlanta’s most beautiful people, she wasn’t going to go into it looking like a total loser.

His gaze raked back up the length of her and landed on her lips. No doubt he was noticing that she’d once again applied lip gloss. But good grief, a woman could only be expected to stand beside someone such as Greta for so long without fighting back.

“You’ve got the hottest legs I’ve ever had the pleasure of enjoying.” His mouth quirked and his eyes steamed, then he quickly switched gears. “Make sure you have that camera pointed at the door before she answers. I think this is her big premiere.”

Vega rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. She leaned into the backseat for her equipment as JP came around to help. Straightening, she handed off her camera and began arranging the lighting to capture the “first moment” of their date.

“I don’t know why she wants me here,” she mumbled. “If she wants to be on camera so bad, why not just sleep with a producer somewhere, and
BAM!
, she’d be given the chance.”

JP ignored her ranting, which she appreciated. She didn’t need him pointing out her petty jealousy yet one more time. He leaned back against the car and eyed the front door as if not really wanting to go up there himself. Or maybe that was just her imagining it.

“I would have paid the quarter million, you know,” he spoke quietly.

The dark of the night laid shadows across his face, but she could make out his strong profile and the slight angle of regret in the tilt of his lips. This was the first time since they’d returned that she felt as if she was fully getting the man who’d swept her away and done his damnedest to make her fall in love with him.

She softened her tone to match his. “I couldn’t do that. There would’ve been no way to explain it, and you wouldn’t have wanted to admit that you paid for your own date. Doing so would’ve ruined all future auctions.”

One side of his mouth lifted as he crossed his arms over his chest and dropped his head back to stare at the night sky. “They might already be ruined.”