The cameras roll. I articulate my lines with smooth perfection. Olivia does the same, thankfully. An hour later, Max is finally happy, the soles of his shoes now safe to see another day.
‘Cut!’ Max yells. ‘Fan-fucking-tastic! Great work. Let’s wrap it up for today, people!’
The cast and crew begin to disperse, and I head in Holly’s direction. The urge to kiss her again consumes me. ‘Follow me.’ My head jerks towards one of the castle’s lavish drawing rooms.
Holly’s pretty crimson lips lift as she follows me without question.
Rich navy drapes swing from huge sash windows. Holly yelps as I yank her hand, dragging her behind the thick velvet material like I’m a naughty schoolboy.
‘You look sensational.’ My teeth tug at her earlobe as I inhale the heady scent of her skin.
‘You should see what I’ve got on underneath.’ Mischievous blue eyes twinkle up at me. ‘I didn’t know how much inspiration you might need, so I came prepared. Want to see?’
‘Don’t fucking tempt me.’ My lips capture hers again, parting them with my tongue.
‘Get a room,’ Max yells and Holly jumps abruptly. Max seems to intimidate her.
‘Sure.’ I swat him away with a flick of the hand and he tuts a sound of playful disapproval.
‘Can I take you out tonight?’ I blurt.
Holly’s blue eyes brighten two shades, piercing my soul. ‘Out where?’
‘That little a la carte restaurant at the pier.’
Holly swallows hard. ‘What if someone sees us?’
‘They won’t. No one’s looking for us. Let’s live a little.’ My index finger traces her cupid’s bow as I drink in every line and curve of her face. ‘I want to thank you for coming in early. For helping me. And to apologise for not being fully honest with you earlier.’
She blinks hard, staring at me like she can see my soul. ‘I don’t think it’s an apology you should issue when you admit you genuinely like someone.’
‘Yeah,’ I sigh, as thunder strikes my chest, rattling the ground beneath my feet and the entire world as I know it. ‘Ireallylike you, Holly. And it wasn’t part of my plan.’
Her pulse quickens on her neck, but for once, she’s out of witty one-liners.
‘So, dinner?’
Her teeth gnaw at her lower lip again. ‘Okay.’
‘I’ll pick you up at seven.’
At six-forty-five, I let myself into Holly’s house and follow the sound of a hairdryer drifting from the bedroom.
She stands in front of a silver-framed, floor-to-ceiling mirror wearing another set of stunning lingerie. If I didn’t already know she wasn’t an artist, I’d assume she owned a lingerie shop. This one is red lace with tiny pearls lining the edges.
Leaning against the door frame, I watch as she curls a brush through her hair, scrutinising her reflection in the glass.
She has no idea of her allure, and that’s half the appeal.
Those full, bouncing breasts.
The womanly curve of her hips.
Her legs aren’t long by any means, but they are so perfectly shaped I could stare all fucking day.
I really like you, Holly. And it wasn’t part of my plan.
She didn’t say it back. She didn’t say anything. And it’s eating me alive. Is there a way to extend this thing between us?
