The elevator door opened and he sucked in a breath. Sexy didn’t begin to describe Belle. The tight, white dress hugged every curve, her curly hair wild around her face. Red lipstick and stunning brown eyes framed by dark lashes stole his ability to think.
She offered a tentative smile, terror in her eyes.
Guilt hit him. He’d talked her into being on the show for selfish reasons. The car was a nice touch but if he were honest, he wanted to explore the underlying attraction that pulled him to her. He held out his hand, taking her cold ones.
“Belle,” he said, holding her gaze. He tried to project confidence at the same time aware of hundreds of eyes watching in person and millions in the real world. No pressure. “You are as beautiful as your name.”
A giggle escaped from her parted lips, half hysterical to his discerning ear. He squeezed her fingers in support. “I chose a bell for your charm, not just because of your name, but a bell symbolizes beginnings and the start of something promising.” He was forced to drop her hand and accept the bracelet from Darius. She held up her arm, wrist out. He slipped the bracelet on. The clasp felt too small between his fingers.
“Do you need some help?” she whispered, a trace of amusement in her husky question.
The clasp finally took, and the jewelry slid down her arm. He lifted her wrist, kissing the pulse. Smooth skin met his lips and he wanted to work his way up her arm. The collective aww from the audience stopped his ascent. He stood and stepped back.
Color flushed her cheeks and she swallowed, her tongue coming out to wet her lips. “Thank you for the charm. I never knew that about the bell.”
“And I’d like to know everything there is to know about you, Belle,” he said, making it up as he went. The script would work with the other women because they were strangers. Belle wasn’t a stranger, although he barely knew anything about her.
“And we’ll all learn together,” Darius said in his bogus cheerful voice. “Please take Belle to her seat. The next elevator is almost here.”
Erik held out his arm, the smell of her perfume teased his nose, fresh with underlying hints of woman. Irina smiled at them but it wasn’t genuine. The show was known for pitting one woman against the other. He hoped that Belle could hold her own. Because it was too late to back out now. She was on the show and if the audience’s reaction was anything to go by, she’d be on for a while.
Chapter Eleven
“I still can’t believe you’re on MFF,” Kendra said.
“I can’t believe it either.” Belle jogged beside Kendra on the path along the Kirkland waterfront. The sun was out, the sky a crystal blue. A cool wind blew off the water and felt good against her heated skin.
“And I can’t believe you won’t tell me anything. You know I’m a diehard fan.” Kendra plucked at the neckline of her pink t-shirt, fanning herself. Her white-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail; she was short with a petite frame that Belle envied. While only a few inches taller than Kendra, she was more on the curvy side. Next to a man like Erik, she felt small and ultra-feminine in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
“You’ve asked me that a hundred times and for the hundredth time, I can’t tell you anything. I signed a NDA. You’ll just have to watch.” They’d been running for an hour and Kendra hadn’t let up with the same question. She felt guilty about keeping this from Kendra. The lies were weighing heavily on her and the first show had only aired the night before. Belle’s own hair was pulled into a ponytail as well, curls beginning to escape in the heat. She was thankful that the show’s hairdresser was experienced with curly hair and could tame it.
“But you can tell me,” Kendra pleaded with a heavy whine. “I’m your bestie.”
“You’re also a journalist, so that’s a double no.” Filming would resume in a few days and she’d have her first one-on-one with Erik. On camera. The thought of him flustered her. They’d texted in the past few days but hadn’t spoken. She was still working on getting more appearances for him and he’d been working out for the upcoming season.
“I’m not a real journalist. I’m a freelance writer who writes about relationships.” Kendra tried to elbow Belle who swerved at the last second, avoiding contact.
“And yet you suck at them,” Belle said, shaking her head.
“I don’t need to be in a relationship to write about them. And we both know the show is all smoke and mirrors.”
Belle flexed fingers made stiff from typing half the night. Networking was proving to be a bitch; however, she was up for to the task. It was what she went to school for and her education was proving to be worth every dime. “Regardless, I can’t tell you anything.”
“But after the show, you’ll have to let me do an article on what lessons you learned about amour in the realm of reality TV” Kendra put her hands up creating a fake banner in the air. “I can see the Pulitzer prize in journalism right now.”
“I hate to rain on your prize-winning parade, but no.” Belle dodged a kid on a bicycle. Her foot landed on the edge of the cement path and twisted her ankle. “Damn, damn, damn,” she said, hopping on one foot, pain radiating inside her ankle.
Kendra stopped, her hands on her knees, breath coming in pants. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” She reached out and laid her hand on Kendra’s shoulder for support. “I wrenched it when the cement crumbled.”
Concerned green eyes met hers, all traces of humor gone. “You can’t get hurt. You have to wear heels.”
“Like I have a choice.” Belle took a few tentative steps. Heels were the least of her worries. It still hurt but she could walk. “I’ll live.”
“Excellent. Let’s go get some lunch. There’s a great Mexican cantina right up those stairs that has the best jalapeno lemonade.” Kendra pulled out some wipes from the small backpack she wore and handed one to Belle.
“I have indigestion just thinking about it.” Belle wiped the back of her neck and arms, and followed Kendra up a set of stairs that cut up to the retail area. Her ankle still hurt and she limped her way along the cement. Spring had arrived and people were out, walking along the sidewalks in front of the retail shops. The restaurant in question had outside seating.
