“I do.” I grit my teeth as Sinclair comes backstage and is swept up into an outfit change.
Theodora isn’t far behind her, and she looks over at me as she pulls her lace vest up over her head, letting her breasts spill free.The smile on her face falters when I pay them no attention and keep my eyes fixed on hers instead.
“The guy takes photos of himself in all the places where he’s waiting to see her. Outside her runway shows and shoots.”
I pull my phone from my ear and select the images I showed to Sterling and Sullivan this morning, then click send.
“Is that…?”
“Sure the hell is.”
Killian whistles. “Jealousy?”
“Got to be. Sinclair gets the big brands chasing her all the time. This girl doesn’t. The work she’s done recently, she’s been doing for free to try to build her portfolio. They didn’t even use any of her shots from the last shoot she was on with Sinclair.”
“Cutthroat industry,” Killian mutters.
“Yeah. She’s about to find out how much.”
Theodora’s stealing furtive glances over at me. She knows something’s wrong.
“Maybe it’s not Neil I should be warning you not to kill.”
“Maybe,” I murmur, staring at her as she starts to look really uncomfortable at my attention.
“All right. Give me an update once you have one.”
“Will do,” I reply, hanging up.
I walk over to where Sinclair’s now in a white bridal set comprising of a corset and stockings and suspender belt.
“Wanted a close up, huh?” She giggles as I stop beside her.
“I’m not looking at this one, Princess,” I whisper.
“Why not?” she asks playfully.
“Because the only time I want to admire something like this is when I’m taking it off my wife,” I rasp.
“Oh.” Her voice falters.
I lean a little closer until the back of my hand brushes hers. No one around us will notice; they’re all too busy rushing about, keeping the show running.
“You’ll look even better in it when my ring’s on your finger,” I say, flexing my ring finger against hers.
She shivers and my blood heats from the sound of her breath catching in her throat. I shouldn’t be saying it. I’m crossing every damn line there is. But I can’t stop myself. It spills out before I can hold it back.
It’s what I crave.
Her being mine. Forever.
No matter how wrong or unlikely that might be.
Sinclair’s swept toward the runway to line up behind another model who is about to walk out, and I feel the loss of her body next to mine like a limb has been torn off.
Theodora’s unsure eyes meet mine as I glare at her.
“You going to give it back nicely, or am I going to have to take it?” I hiss.
