Page 113 of Late Harvest

“Not soon enough.” He winked. “Now stop. No giving me a boner on the red carpet.”

“Why not? You just gave me a lady boner,” she breathed out, intending that for her ears only.

Sebastian paused and faced her fully, backing out of the limo with a wide, heart-stopping grin. “Your liege man stands at the ready.” He motioned to the front of his pants, which was thankfully discreetly covered by his tuxedo jacket. “Let’s do this, my queen.” He held out his hand to her, star power blazing around him.

Holy fuck. Red carpet Sebastian wasn’t just dashing. He was…magnificent.

Chapter Sixty-One

Jealousy is the best compliment you can receive…relish it.

—From Remy’s Badass Bitch Affirmations

Remy

“Bash! Bash! Over here! Tell us about your date! What are you wearing? Bash! Is this the doctor? Can you confirm the rumors you’re getting married? What does Poet Walsh think of your new relationship?”

The cacophony of screaming fans and reporters shouting questions should have been overwhelming. But, somehow, with Sebastian holding firmly but gently onto her hand, Remy was not only unperturbed, she was relishing the novelty of the scene unfolding around her.

He looked at her, a quick check to see if she was holding up on this first step onto the carpet. She gave a subtle nod and squeezed his hand.

A knockout smile split his face. Sebastian squared his shoulders, tilted his head…and, in an instant, transformed before her very eyes.

One minute, he was dashing Sebastian, taking solicitous care of her on the ride to the premiere and complimenting her like she’d never experienced.

The next? He was Bash Wheatley, mega star.

Magical.

Remy followed along, smiling—praying it didn’t come off as an awkward grimace—and taking her cues from Sebastian. He was at once familiar and a stranger, and Remy had the strangest sense of surreality. How was this her life?

I’m walking a freaking red carpet with Bash Wheatley. Just pretend you’re walking to the OR. Just another walk to surgery. On a red fucking carpet.

Oh…and then there was his teasing, titillating promise of what would happen later.

Desire zapped through her, distracting her enough to cause her to stumble a bit. Sebastian turned to her, a question in his eyes. Not one of discontent, but of concern. Recovering herself, she lifted her chin and smiled, trying mightily to convey confidence.

Sebastian grinned again and tucked her arm into his. Melody led them to the first of a line of reporters.

“Bash!” a devastatingly beautiful blonde reporter breathed, leaning close. Too damn close, if you asked Remy. This was exactly the kind of woman who’d graced his Instagram. Big boobs that were magically still high and perky. Tiny waist. Perfect skin. Perfect hair.

And younger. So much younger.

Remy stepped a bit closer to Sebastian. Marking her man.

Like a wolf with her mate.

She swallowed a smile. Remy had finished the shifter romance on the plane from Virginia. She’d already ordered the second book for her and Sebastian. He’d made her promise to read it aloud with him, acting out the parts.

Her fiancé, always attuned to her, glanced over with a smirk, his eyes dancing.

“Congratulations on Atlas Unhinged,” Perky-Boobed Reporter chirped, reminding Remy of Chicane. “We hear it’s going to be another box office bonanza for you. That said, rumor has it you’re about to be signed as the lead for Paradise and you’re walking away from the next installment of the comic book franchise that made you famous. Can you comment on that?”

Sure he can. He has the power of speech, Remy thought unkindly, keeping a neutral mask on her face. She hoped.

“Thank you for your kind words about this movie. We’re all excited about it,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “And it better do well because Clooney and I have a small bet going.”

Perky-Boobed Reporter tittered and tapped his arm. “Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it later,” she drawled, hitting later too hard.