Belle could imagine him being shown in a box under the screen under Erik and her sitting in the booth.
Heart hammering a mad beat, she clutched the jacket.
He took the wine glass from her and set it down on the table next to him. Standing, he held out his hand, palm up. She gripped his jacket in her hand and rose to her feet. “You’ll need this back.”
She started to remove it. He shook his head. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”
The stairs were easier to maneuver on the way down. She was pleased she performed the task with class.
“Thank you for the great conversation. It was nice to get to know you better.” He opened the door and she stepped backward inside, never breaking his compelling stare.
“I enjoyed it as well.” The loosened dress threatened to fall but she held it in place with her arm. Using the other, she attempted to remove the jacket but it was hard with only one hand.
“Here, let me help you.” He slipped it off her shoulders and the chill of the air conditioner rushed across her skin. She was glad for it. The wine and the man had raised her body temperature.
He lifted her chin with his finger, his gaze falling to her mouth. The first date kiss. If they weren’t on national television, she’d tell him not to do it. The audience tended to keep that woman on and Belle wanted to be voted off first. Perhaps she could convince Darius to make sure it was her.
Swallowing, she lowered her lashes, her entire body waiting for the first touch of his lips.
His warm mouth brushed against hers, gentle and seeking. Sensation shot straight into her core, the heat in her body sparking to an all-out flame. She lifted her arm, her hand cupping his cheek. His beard was soft against her palm. All sound disappeared, and a tingling excitement raced through her, as she gave in to the moment.
She had no other choice.
Chapter Fourteen
For two years, Erik had imagined this moment and the fantasy didn’t come close to living up to the reality. He moved his mouth over hers, devouring the plumpness. She parted her lips, the rush of her breath a siren’s song. Kissing Belle was a purely sensual experience. She slid her arm around his neck, her body flush to his. Citrus and woman filled his nose, bringing him further under her spell.
What was supposed to be a brief kiss was turning into something much more complicated.
Erik should let her go, except every instinct screamed no. He brought a hand up her back and met silky skin. She stiffened in his arms and hugged him close, breaking the kiss. Her cheek resting against his, she whispered into his ear. “My dress is going to fall down. Don’t let me go.”
Oh shit. He meant it about more than the dress. Her words were on tape. “Hold on.” He put his jacket back on her and tamped down a spark of temper. Had the producers done this intentionally? No matter what, he couldn’t let his annoyance show to them or to her. Until he found out otherwise, he had to play along. “You should have at least waited until we were alone,” he said in a low whisper. He made sure the jacket blocked her before he stood back.
Her face was flushed, whether from the kiss or from embarrassment.
“You wish. Now please, let me get out of here with a touch of dignity.” She retreated and disappeared from view.
Gone but never forgotten. He turned back to the set, ready for the night to be over. Seven women, seven different outcomes. They were all smart, successful and pretty. He enjoyed all of their company but Belle was still at the top of his list. The last woman was Irina.
“Can I get my jacket back?” he asked, resuming his seat.
“Tim will bring it out in a moment. The next Fiancé is set to come on set. Since this is in sequential order, why don’t you lose the tie and unbutton the shirt. It’ll add a nice touch.” Darius recommended.
The words sent up a red flag. He needed to be on his guard even more than before. The show was full of little tricks, like getting the contestants drunk and then editing out sections to make it look like they did or said something that they never said. It took all his improvisational skills to navigate the waters so far. He was still suspicious of the wardrobe malfunction. It was their MO.
He resumed his seat. The champagne glass from the side table was gone. Throughout the night, he’d been given a glass per Fiancé. He hadn’t taken more than a sip from all seven. It wouldn’t surprise him that the show wanted him to get drunk. Eight glasses would have been two bottles of wine just for him. He could knock down some booze but that was extreme, even for him.
The lights dimmed and the director called quiet on the set. He stared at the fountain that was visible on the other side of the room. The set was circular with the green room in the back. After he’d spoken to all the women, he’d be meeting with them tomorrow and send the first one home. Once done, both segments would air during a Tuesday night time slot.
He tugged at the bowtie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. The makeup woman approached, pulling out a wipe from her hand. “Lipstick,” she explained as she removed it from his lips. Belle’s lipstick. Kissable Red. Once she was satisfied it was all gone, she smiled and left without a word.
Darius went to the door and opened it. Erik kept his attention focused straight ahead. He waited for Irina to arrive at the foot of the steps like Belle had. He was supposed to stand and offer his hand the moment that he saw her. A pair of slender hands moved over his eyes and he offered a fake smile for the camera.
“Guess who?” Irina’s seductive, feminine voice asked.
“I don’t know. Give me a hint.” Of course he knew who it was. And she knew he knew. It was all for show and they were the main attraction.
Lips brushed his ear and her hand skimmed down his shoulder.
