Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He looks expensive.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
He looks exactly like what they’re paying for. Power, status, and the kind of allure you can’t fake.
If that wasn’t enough, his hair is just the right amount of tousled. It’s that calculated I-just-woke-up-and-ran-a-hand-through-it kind of perfect that makes women drop their panties without even blinking.
It’s ridiculous
Not to mention, unfair.
It’s entirely possible I’m staring a bit too hard.
A gorgeous brunette steps into the frame beside him, and my stomach knots.
Here we go.
Krista, or Kayla, or whatever perfect K-name she has, is draped over his arm as her hand rests way too comfortably on his bicep. She tilts her head back and laughs at something he says, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth.
When Steele smirks, something in me ignites. I fold my arms, shifting my weight on my heels. I tell myself I don’t care. Steele is free to flirt with whomever he wants. After a few minutes of watching them, it becomes clear that I’m lying to myself, because the longer I stare, the tighter my grip becomes.
It’s embarrassing just how unprofessional this woman is.
They’re supposed to be doing a sponsorship shoot for a high-end watch brand, and she’s over there acting like she’s about to climb him like a damn tree.
Her fingers trail down his silk tie. The gesture is both playful and suggestive.
My jaw clenches when Steele doesn’t move away.
It’s almost a shock when a slow, creeping heat spreads under my skin before knotting low in my gut. It’s foreign and sharp, making my stomach churn.
Why am I so mad?
No. I’m not mad. There’s absolutely no reason for me to be mad.
I’m just annoyed.
That’s all.
Who wouldn’t be?
She’s acting like a star-struck groupie.
This is business.
A branding thing.
A Railers thing.
Except…
Nobody else seems to care.
I force myself to look away and pretend to check my phone.
This is ridiculous.
I’m being ridiculous.
I really need to chill out.
That’s the moment I feel the weight of his stare. I glance up to find Steele watching me. His smirk is gone, only to be replaced with something unreadable. His sharp gray gaze flicks over my face before narrowing slightly.
It’s like he knows exactly what’s going through my head.
Or he’s somehow able to sense it.
I really hope he can’t see the jealousy written all over my expression.
A pulse of something jagged ripples through me at the silent acknowledgement of what I’m feeling.
I drop my gaze and refocus my attention on my cell.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
Everything is fine.
“Hey, Cam, would you mind if we take a few shots with Lilah?” Steele asks.
My head jerks up so fast, I nearly give myself whiplash.
What?
Me?
No way.
I shake my head, my eyes wide as I glare at Steele.
The corners of his lips lift into that devastatingly cocky grin. It’s the one he uses when he’s intent on getting his way. “Come on, Lilah. It’ll be fun. And it’ll give them more photos to choose from.”
“But…” I swallow hard, tearing my gaze away from him to look at Cam and his assistants. “I’m not dressed for something like that. I’m not even wearing makeup.”
“You don’t need any,” Steele says firmly.
One of Cam’s assistants tilts her head and appraises me. I can’t help but squirm under her unrelenting inspection. “You’re a natural beauty. A little lipstick, a few strokes of mascara, and you’ll be camera-ready.”
“See?” Steele beams, as if the decision has been settled.
“There are a few dresses on the rack,” Cam adds. “Molly, take her in the back and see what fits.”
“No, I really don’t—”
There’s no time to get the rest of my sentence out as I’m herded toward a smaller room and practically shoved into a chair in front of a mirror. The pushy assistant rifles through the clothing options on the rack while two others attack my hair and face with alarming speed.
It feels more like a pit stop at an Indy race.
Less than ten minutes later, both girls step back, smiling proudly.
I stare at my reflection, barely recognizing myself. “Oh. Wow.”
My hair is styled into loose waves that cascade over my shoulders. My skin looks flawless, and my lips are painted a sultry red that somehow makes my eyes seem bigger.
Molly holds out a silver column of fabric that shimmers beneath the fluorescent lights. “Let’s get you into this.”
Before I can protest, all three of them are teaming up—stripping off my button-down and skirt and then zipping the dress up my back.
When I turn to the mirror, I exhale slowly, only then realizing how tense I’ve been.
The gown is absolutely stunning. Sleek and elegant with a high slit that runs up my thigh. Not only does it look expensive, it feels expensive.
“Your boss is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
I blink. “What?”
“Steele Sanderson,” one of them says with a knowing grin.
“He’s not really my boss,” I mutter. “More like a friend.”
Molly smirks before grabbing my hand and ushering me back into the studio. “We’ll see about that.”