Caught on Camera (7 page)

She crossed the room, suddenly unsure how to walk in the spikes as he devoured her every move. When she passed in front of him, he touched a hand to the small of her back, and fire licked from his heated fingers into her body, toasting all sorts of hidden places.

“What was it you wished to talk about again?” he asked, his voice as coarse as gravel.

“You know full well what I’m here to talk about.”

“Honey, at the moment all I know is how bad I want those legs wrapped around me.” His fingers drifted lower, but he remained a gentleman.

She stopped in the threshold of the dining room and took in the scene. The ambience was far too intimate. Two place settings angled together on one corner of the twelve-person table. Gleaming china trimmed in gold, flickering candlelight, and elegant crystal all beckoned.

Seduction.

And she had seen this particular play before.

She wiggled her fingers together in a nervous gesture, unable to control the action, and reminded herself that this time was different. This time she was older, not as naive, and no one was hiding anything. They both knew exactly why the other was here.

She wanted the interview.

He wanted her naked.

Gulping, she moved forward and wondered which one would get their wish.

“I
T WAS A
rotten thing to lure me here, then send your sister out for the evening.” As JP held out her chair, Vega’s voice was soft and low, almost intimate, and not at all as she’d intended.

“Wish I could take the credit.”

She looked over her shoulder to see if he was lying. Light-blue eyes burning steadily back at her said he was telling the truth. It was Cat’s doing. But he hadn’t tried to convince her otherwise.

“The hair is amazing.” His fingers feathered across her bare neck as she lowered to her seat. “I’d love to see it down sometime.”

She fidgeted at his touch, quickly recovering by reaching for her water glass. He kept touching her, each caress traveling way beyond the barrier of her skin, and it was quickly driving her mad. She shouldn’t be here. She tapped a fingernail against the crystal of her glass. She had no business playing this game.

“Thanks,” she murmured, lifting her hand and patting the intricate twist that was far less severe than her normal ponytail. “I prefer it up.”

The fact was, she
had
to wear it up. Her hair—along with her legs—had been her calling cards in her modeling days, and though it had been years since she’d been on the cover of any magazine, she still felt vulnerable at the thought of being seen with her hair loose. She’d only recently taken it back to its natural color.

JP disappeared through a swinging door without additional comment, and promptly returned with two plates and a decanter of salad dressing. A bottle of wine was tucked under one arm, and a corkscrew dangled from his fingers.

With a flourish, he presented the salad. “Mustard vinaigrette okay?”

“Absolutely,” she practically purred as she took in the first course of the meal. The presentation was so professionally done, he’d either bought outside food or, more likely, brought in a chef to prepare it for them. She tossed a quick glance at the kitchen door, wondering if there was someone currently stashed away in there.

JP drizzled the dressing over their salads and poured them each wine before settling in his chair. He held his glass up for a toast.

“To the beginning.”
Clink.

She paused, her glass still pressed to his. “Of what?”

“Whatever this is.” The twinkle in his eyes tied her stomach into a pretzel.

After a sip that exploded on her tongue and, alone, almost had her promising to do whatever he wanted, she murmured, “
This
is a discussion about you allowing me to shadow you.”

“This,” JP began, reaching for his fork and spearing a mix of crisp colors, “is whatever we make it.”

And at that moment, she honestly had no idea what she wanted to make it. The chemistry between them was like nothing she’d ever been a part of. Why couldn’t she throw caution to the wind for one night? It wasn’t as if she’d ever have such an opportunity again. Surely they could keep a single night discreet.

She dug into her salad, but her nerves insisted food was not the best idea at the moment. After two bites, she reached for her wine.

She couldn’t sleep with him.

Could she?

Licking her lips, she cast her eyes to the side to find JP’s fire-blue gaze lingering on her mouth. Her stomach wrapped around her knees. If she slept with him, where would she go from there? No doubt someone who exuded that much testosterone would put anyone else to shame.

With effort, she decided to remind them both why she was there. She reached for the bag she’d carried in with her and slipped a folded piece of paper from an inner pocket. “I spent time this morning outlining my vision and how I see the interview being laid out.”

She slid the sheet onto the glossy table, but he ignored it, jabbing his fork through the outer skin of a ripe tomato instead.

“I thought getting your feedback would be a good place to start,” she tried again.

Silence.

After chewing as if making sure to attain the digestively recommended twenty-one chews per bite, JP balanced his fork on the edge of his plate and topped off her glass of wine. “Let’s get to know each other first. Put business off until after dinner.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off.

“If I’m going to give real consideration to this idea…” His lips flattened briefly as if the thought were utterly distasteful. “I need to know more about you first.” He turned the full power of his gaze to her. “I need to be able to trust you.”

Trust? Uh…yeah. She doubted that was his true intention, but didn’t see any other way to go at the moment. She nodded. Fine. If he wanted to talk, they’d talk. But it wasn’t just going to be about her.

She started the questions, turning the conversation on him. No sense not taking the opportunity to shed some light on kernels of information. After all, understanding the man better would help her produce the best program possible.

He backed off the flirting and they began to talk, then he soon brought out the next course. The New York steak crusted in a pepper rub and red wine sauce placed a stranglehold on her remaining nerves, making them momentarily lose out to the incredible taste of the succulent meat.

“This is fantastic,” she murmured, more to herself than to JP, but she didn’t miss the predatory gleam in his eye. The pride of a man who knew he was winning over his prey.

She definitely had to find out the name of the chef and visit his restaurant on occasion. Surely a few infrequent visits to the occasional five-star wouldn’t break the bank. She closed her eyes as she chewed, savoring every hint of flavor, while also recalling how easy it was to become used to such delights. If she weren’t careful, she’d redevelop her expensive tastes.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t dip into the savings left from her previous income, but she’d always held back, worrying she’d someday need the money for items far more important than good food and better shoes.

Dinner passed, and she found herself shocked at the ease with which they carried on a conversation. He’d spoken about everything from his first memory—his mother teaching him to tie his shoes—to some of his more recent business deals and why he’d made them. She’d shared some of her earlier memories growing up, as well as a bit about her mother and father, all without mentioning either that her father had been killed in the line of duty or that she’d had to go into modeling to support her mother.

Their conversation had been far more than the chitchat and innuendos she’d originally expected, and though she wouldn’t use anything he’d said without his permission, her respect for him had grown leaps and bounds. It couldn’t be easy growing up a Davenport, especially when choosing your own path instead of following immediately in the family tradition.

“You said you were only six when your family moved to DC? That must have been exciting.” She waited as JP refilled her wineglass. He emptied the bottle into his, but barely enough for a few sips poured out. She held hers up in silent question. Did he want some of hers?

JP’s lips tilted, his eyes hooded. “You drink it, gorgeous. It seems to be doing wonders for your nerves. And to answer your question, yes, we moved there for school years, then came back to Atlanta during the summers. But no, I wouldn’t exactly call it exciting.”

“No?” He was right. The wine had done wonders for her nerves, though relaxation hadn’t been exactly complete. She glanced at the remaining food on her plate, then at his empty one. “You want the rest of my steak? I don’t think I can eat any more.”

“You didn’t like it?” His voice was low, pulling her toward him as if tugging an invisible wire.

The atmosphere around them was changing, becoming softer and warmer, but she found herself helpless to retreat.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He’d removed his jacket and tie during dinner and opened the top button of his shirt, and she now found herself eyeing the spot just above that open
V
. She had the strongest urge to put her tongue right there.

“It was delicious,” she said, her words so low they could barely be heard. She tilted her head, watching his throat rise and fall with every swallow. “In fact, I can imagine only a couple things I’d like better.”

Vega’s words had an instant reaction below his belt. Had she meant them as the come-on they’d sounded? Any other woman and he’d have no doubt. But this one had confused him since the moment he’d met her.

One minute he thought she was playing the normal man-woman games, wanting the exact thing he did. The next, she slid an annoying sheet of paper across the table with enough notes on it that even he had to acknowledge that though she might be open to sleeping with him, she was also here to get the interview.

He watched her gaze clear and dart to his in horror as she realized how wanton she’d sounded.

Yep, that’s what he thought. She might be thinking she wanted to be in his bed every bit as much as he wanted her there, but she wasn’t ready to go down without a fight.

“I…uh…I’m sorry,” she finally mumbled. “I meant…”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, humored by the way she tried to find some explanation for the slip.

With jerky movements, she shoved the paper closer to him. “If you’ll just take a look at my notes, you’ll see how I’ve done exactly as promised.” Her tongue peeked out to touch her lips before continuing. “And…um…will ensure those who aren’t in love with you already will be by the end of the hour.”

She took a deep breath that didn’t seem to settle her down at all, then jumped right back into her spiel, her words coming out so fast they practically tripped over each other. “I’d like to capture you in your everyday activities. At the office, playing golf or whatever you do in your downtime, possibly a business meeting, charity work…”

He didn’t want to talk about an interview that wasn’t going to happen.

“Don’t worry, Vega.” He spoke softly, and her relieved gaze rose to meet his as if understanding that he meant not to worry about how she’d come across a moment earlier. He wouldn’t hold it against her.

But as quickly as his words had soothed her, her obvious relief shot ire into his gut. What was so wrong with the thought of them coming together and having a good time, anyway? It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with him.

He narrowed his eyes on her, deciding he preferred her as off-kilter as he felt. “I know you didn’t mean to sound like you wanted to go straight to the nearest bed. We can have dessert first.”

Fire shot through her brown eyes at his words, and though he knew he was being an arrogant jerk, he couldn’t stop himself. “But we probably shouldn’t use one of Cat’s bedrooms. That would be uncouth.”

A gasp filled the air as Vega’s mouth dropped open, and he instantly chastised himself. He was better than that.

“I apologize,” he muttered, looking away to stare at the artwork on the other side of the table. “That was uncalled for.”

His attraction to this woman was screwing with his head, making him act like a spoiled rich
kid
instead of the successful, upstanding adult he’d worked so hard to become. “Please…” He motioned in her general direction, uncertain what to say other than, “Continue.”