Caught on Camera (35 page)

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Authors: Kim Law

BOOK: Caught on Camera
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She swallowed a gulp, while Beverly laughed so hard she snorted.

Could she not get a single break? Being caught together like that—while he was out with another woman—would look as bad as if they’d been caught kissing in the back hallway instead of merely talking.

The outer door swung open, and JP entered with authority. He took one look at the two of them, and fastened on Beverly. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”

Beverly straightened. She wore the air of being reprimanded, but the gleam in her eyes gave her away. “Yes, Mr. Davenport.”

JP narrowed his eyes on her, doing an excellent impression of someone who’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and insisted on taking it out on everyone around him. Vega wondered if that meant his night had ended badly.

She could only hope.

“I’ll be in my office.” The door rattled in its frame behind him, leaving Vega wide-eyed and wondering what had just happened.

She edged back to the other side of the desk, then stood there wondering what she was supposed to do next. He was the one who’d suggested she come to his office until they headed to the school, but with him not even acknowledging her, then closing himself off behind his door, she wasn’t about to sit there waiting all day. Even if she did care to tolerate his mood.

“I think I’ll—”

“Beverly,” the phone speaker squawked into the room.

“Yes, Mr. Davenport?”

“Send Ms. Zaragoza in.”

Ms. Zaragoza?
Apparently they were back to formal names. She supposed that’s what happened after he slept with someone else. Her irritation level inched higher.

Beverly peered over her glasses. “You going in, or should I tell him you left already?”

She was thinking the same as Vega. Why should she go in there just because he commanded? Vega glanced at the closed door, sure she hadn’t done anything to deserve his mood, and equally certain she didn’t want to be on the other side of it. She was the one who should be furious, not the other way around.

“I would say not to take it personally,” Beverly began, “but he’s arrived in that mood every day this week.” She shrugged. “Could have something to do with you.”

“Yes, well. He could learn to put out the effort to be civilized too.” Especially after he’d just had a long night with another woman. “I’m leaving.”

Vega turned to the chair she’d been sitting in and began gathering her things. The sound of a door swinging open behind her stopped her movements. She peered over her shoulder. JP now filled the space where the door had been, and his blue eyes were focused purely on her.

“Would you come in here?” His tone still commanded, but she could see he was trying.

She so didn’t want to go in there. She couldn’t fully escape him—they did have to shoot the activities scheduled for the day—but the thought of being near him at the moment wasn’t a pleasant one. In fact, it was darn near torturous.

She glanced at the outer door, wondering if he’d refuse to continue, or renege on the whole thing altogether, if she just left.

“Please.”

Damn
. That did it. She still couldn’t say no to the man, no matter what, and certainly not when he said “please.”

With a great show of reluctance, she grabbed her remaining items and slunk into his office. He stood at the entrance and let her pass, then followed her in, closing the door behind him, this time more gently.

Once they were alone, she stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped protectively around her stuff, and waited.

“Sit down, Vega.” His deep voice came from behind her a second before his hands reached around and lifted the camera and her backpack from her arms. He pressed his fingertips to her shoulder, nudging her toward a chair. “Sit.”

With a drawn-out sigh, she finally did as asked. He circled his desk and sat facing her, and she found herself unable to look him in the eye. Knowing he’d been with Greta the night before hurt way more than it should have.

She tried the view out his window, but that just reminded her of what the two of them had done up against that pane a couple days ago. Finally, she settled her gaze on the shelves lining the wall to his left.

“Why did you run out like that last night?” The underlying anger in his voice was enough to swivel her head back in his direction.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “We’d just gotten caught being photographed
again
…while you were on a date with another woman, and you think I should have sat back down with her for round two?”

“You could have let me know you were leaving. I was worried.”

Right
. Greta had mentioned he’d checked on her before he’d done who knew what to the other woman. She supposed she was supposed to be thankful for that small bit of worry. She stared at the shelves again and snorted her disgust.

“What does that mean?” he asked, the tension in his voice slightly subdued. “You don’t think I would worry about you?”

“I don’t think it was the topmost subject on your mind, no.”

“What is wrong with you this morning?” He slammed a hand on his desk, making her jump, but getting her attention back on him. “I’m the one who should be pissed here. I had no idea you’d run out.”

“You should be pissed?”

“I had to make up an explanation to Greta.”

“You think you’re the one who has a right to be angry?”

“Then I had to call in all kinds of favors to get the hotel staff to make sure you’d gotten back safely. And all the while—”

She stood and leaned over the desk, putting her face in his. “Since when have I become incapable of seeing myself back to my own hotel?”

He rose to mimic her pose. “Since I can’t stand not knowing what you’re doing every single minute of the day.”

“That’s a load of crap.”

“That’s the reality, lady.”

They were standing nose-to-nose, screaming at each other, and hadn’t heard Beverly come in. She cleared her throat during the brief silence, and they both whipped their heads around to the door.

“I’m sorry.” She looked at the floor as she spoke. “The governor is on line one, Mr. Davenport. He’s insisting he speak with you.”

The door closed behind her before JP could utter a response.

He turned back to Vega, their heated breaths mingling, and locked his gaze with hers. She didn’t know what was going on here, but she was sure she didn’t like the look in his eyes. Moving away from the tension, she settled back down in a chair, wishing he’d do the same. Instead, he continued hovering over his desk.

“What is it that’s really bugging you, JP?” she asked. “Of course I left last night. I was more than embarrassed when Greta brought up that picture of us, then we got caught again in the back room, and if that wasn’t enough, the entire evening had already been uncomfortable. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Why not?” Childlike belligerence was the closest she could come to describing his tone.

She glanced away, not wanting to show him her pain, but then decided it might be the only way to get him to back off. Lifting her chin, she faced him. “I know I don’t have the right to care, but I find it incredibly difficult to sit with you and another woman on a date.”

“But you knew it wasn’t a real date.”

“I knew it wasn’t likely to go past last night, yes. But that doesn’t mean…” She hated herself for being jealous. She took a deep breath and licked her lips before continuing. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see to it that Greta got her money’s worth.”

Confusion marred his brow. “What do you mean? A good date? Of course I’d show her a good time. I took her to the finest restaurant in Buckhead, then to every club I could think of. I made sure we were seen together all over the damn town, just so we could be splashed in every tabloid that exists. That’s what she wanted, after all.”

Vega shook her head. “That’s not all she wanted. And I’m smart enough to know a man like you would have a hard time turning that down. If I were guessing, I’d say it would be darn near impossible.”

Emptiness permeated every molecule of her being. She couldn’t be with JP, and she’d just admitted she didn’t want him to be with anyone else either. How stupid was she?

He pushed off his desk and came around to stand directly in front of her. He held out his hand. “Will you stand, please?”

She shook her head, not looking at him.

“Vega?” The word was gentle, but she still resisted.

“Don’t say anything,” she begged. “I knew you’d sleep with other women. That’s who you are. I just…” She shook her head and rubbed the spot on her chest that ached. “I didn’t know it would bother me so much.”

JP squatted in front of her. She let him turn her face to his, but she refused to make eye contact.

“Baby?”

One lone tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “Stop.”

He kissed the tear away, which only released another in its place.

When she shoved against him with her fists, he merely wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She buried her face in her arms, now crumpled between them.

“I’m sorry I was mad this morning,” he said. “I just wanted you with me last night instead of her.”

She nodded, drowning in humiliation.

“And I’m sorry I made you go through that. I shouldn’t have insisted you come.”

Her tears dried, but she kept her forehead pressed to the hardness of his chest. She didn’t want to walk away from him and never look back.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t realize what you were thinking.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, so she glanced up.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth, clinging for several seconds before letting go. “There is no way I would ever sleep with Greta, baby. None. And I made that clear when I dropped her off at her house last night.” He gave her a half smile. “But, man, it’s good to see the jealousy in your eyes.”

She tried to hide in his chest again, but he wouldn’t let her.

“It means you care, you know?” he whispered.

“Mr. Davenport,” the phone crackled.

His arms tensed around her.

“It means I’m an idiot,” she muttered.

“No, baby.” JP brushed loose strands of hair back from her face and closed his mouth on hers one more time.

He held there, firm pressure but closed lips, letting her know the choice was hers. She wanted to resist. So very badly. Yet her mouth opened, inviting him in.

With a groan, his tongue stroked hers, and he pulled out every trick in the book. Within seconds, he had her pliable and ready for surrender.

“Mr. Davenport.” Beverly stood inside the room again, and Vega jerked out of JP’s arms.

“I need to go.” She stood, more confused now than she’d ever been. “I’ll be…back…later.”

JP watched her from his squatted position, his gaze telling her something she refused to hear, then rose to take the call.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T
HE BUZZ OF
the city faded as the SUV left Peachtree and headed northeast. Vega watched the passing sights in silence, while JP kept his hands on ten and two and didn’t take his eyes from the road. It all seemed perfectly normal and polite, only she couldn’t get their morning argument out of her mind. She suspected he was dwelling on the same thing himself.

Whatever had been going on in that room had left her utterly drained. His frustration over her leaving the night before, as well as her jealousy—thank goodness he
hadn’t
slept with Greta, after all—had all been a mask covering something else. Something more intense. Something that had caused panic in her midsection every time he’d stared into her eyes.

Taking a quick peek across the car, she studied him. This was the first time she’d seen him during business hours in something other than a suit, and wondered what was so special about the school they were heading to that would bring out the difference. His khakis and navy polo were nice, and certainly looked just as terrific on him as a three-piece suit. But different.

Then she wondered if he really was different with her, as Beverly had suggested. She wouldn’t have seriously considered it before, but pictures didn’t lie. After she’d escaped his office, she’d pulled out her phone and looked up every tabloid shot of him she’d been able to locate. He was never photographed doing so much as holding hands with any of his dates. Occasionally he’d lean in close to hear or speak, putting a hand to the woman’s back, but still, nothing personal.

The car turned off the road into a school entrance, and JP headed toward the back of the building. She peeked behind them and saw that the photographers who had been on their trail continued straight, stopped from following by a security guard at the school entrance. JP made a left turn and slipped in under the building via the service ramp.

“Do you always park underneath the building?”

Once parked in a marked-off spot, he turned the car off. “Yep.”

Their conversation had been about that deep since they’d left the office.

He reached for his door handle, but she stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“Can I ask you something about this morning first?” Her question was spoken softly. She wanted to know what that had been. The panic flaring through her had made her want to run, yet at the same time, something good had been filtering in as well.

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