Love By Design (17 page)

Then a bubble of laughter escaped Victoria’s mouth. Grinning, she pushed off the door and started toward him. “You should have seen the look on your face when I said I would marry you.”

Good, she wants to keep it light.
And having no regrets.
Smiling back, he said, “Caught me off guard there.”

Even though she laughed it off, he caught a hint of sadness in her eyes. Perhaps he’d hurt her feelings by his reaction. Two days ago he wouldn’t have thought she had feelings to hurt, but she did. From what he could tell the mother ran all over Victoria. Or at least tried her best to. No wonder his co-host was always on the defensive.

They obviously didn’t have a normal, healthy mother-daughter relationship. Russ didn’t relish being caught in between two warring factions but that’s exactly where he found himself.

Reaching his side, she leaned against the counter. “My mother hates you.”

She said it with such glee that it confused Russ. “So is that what I am—a way to get back at your mother?”

“No, no, no. Turning out to be a side benefit though.”

Russ nodded, choosing to believe her. “Can she really have me deported?”

“Probably. Money talks.”

Russ scratched his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have called her mum.”

“No, in dealing with my mother it’s best not to show fear.”

“Just like you.” With his patent smirk he glanced sideways to gauge her reaction.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he teased, his grin widening.

“I’m like my mother?” She faced him and poked at his chest. “You do want to have sex with me again, don’t you?”

“Very much.” He pulled her arms around him. “Like right now.”

She pulled away. “Then you will take that back.”

“Come on, cupcake, you would’ve had me roasted over a fire pit if I didn’t stand up to you.”

“Crap.” Victoria wrapped her arms around him. “And you still what to have sex with me?”

Russ laughed, never imagining the word ‘crap’ coming out of her mouth. His finger traced a path along her delicate cheekbone. “But that’s where the resemblance ends.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“For one, I’m sure your mum would never say the word crap.”

Victoria laughed into his chest.

“Two, I doubt she knows what a vibrator is.”

That earned him another giggle.

“Three, she’s never even met a stripper never mind have sex with one.”

“You’re more than that.” She looked up at him.

He could almost believe those eyes that were like lakes of blue mist. That he could be anything more to her than a walk on the wild side. Not that he wanted anything more than that either. Or did he want more? If he didn’t then why was he sticking around? Victoria was complicated and he liked simple. “Ah, yes, the stripper with a heart of gold.”

Victoria laughed. “It’s impossible to stay mad at you.”

“Good, because I was serious about the sex right now.” Russ picked her up and placed her on the drafting table—conveniently set on a slight incline. Weird how the sound of paper crinkling underneath her butt made him even hotter for her.

“Oh, that’s today’s paper and why my mother was so mad.” She tugged it from underneath her and handed it to him.

He examined the photo. It seemed last night wasn’t the first time his co-host had donned a disguise. “I don’t get it. I knew it was you right away.” He tossed the paper behind him and slid down her pajama pants as she righted herself on the tilt. “Then there is always your scent. A dead giveaway.”

He loved the way she tugged on her lip when he said something raunchy to her. Love? No, he liked it. Russ never threw the word love around, not even inside his head. It would be all too easy to slip the overused word into conversation. He didn’t mind quitting his night job for Victoria, but that didn’t mean he was falling in love with her.

As he entered her warmth his gaze lazily drifted to an unfinished painting. Victoria had beautifully captured a blazing setting sun that melted into a sea that matched the changing colors of her eyes. Two entities rose up in a mist to create a man and a woman locked in a loving embrace. Could that be—no way—him? If he interpreted her work like a Facebook status update that read ‘In a relationship’ then he’s lost it and he wasn’t falling in love, no—he was crashing.

Victoria purred and nuzzled her lips on his neck. At least it seemed he wasn’t the only one.

***

W
ith some time to kill before he met up with his delicious co-host to scout the next shoot, Russ figured it was time to do some solo reconnaissance. Back at his apartment, Russ typed Victoria Bryce onto the keyboard of his laptop and hit the search button. He took a pull of his beer as nearly twelve million hits came up. Wow, she’d been busy. He clicked on the images first. He ignored the pictures from the show and zeroed in on a photo taken of her dancing with three men at a bar. Okay, that doesn’t mean much. They could’ve all been dancing and it became a group shot. How many times had that happened to him with women? The next one wasn’t so easily explained away. One of the guys was taking a shot off her belly button. An emotion he could only describe as jealousy shot through him, the fact that it was a three-year-old photo did nothing to ease the unfamiliar and unwelcomed sensation.

Confused, he clicked on an article on Victoria’s work with Habit For Humanity. She not only donated money but also volunteered her time and expertise to decorate the homes on a slim budget. That would make a great new series and he was surprised the network didn’t pick it up on it. Why did she do it? If it was simply because charity work was expected of a high society member then she would throw cash at the problem. Examining the accompany photo of her down and dirty with the future homeowners painting a room led him to believe there was something deeper going on.

That was the only positive article but Russ was well aware of the media’s love of the negative and outrageous.

As he clicked on, a feeling of unease grew along with a list of questions. Was he a plaything—a boy toy? He nearly choked at the thought. Was she trying to piss off her mother? Was this all some kind of sick game?

Yes, his mind yelled, yet the answer contrasted sharply with the Victoria he made love to an hour ago. Then there’s the painting she created of them, entwined together as if they were one. And none of these risqué photos were recent.

Who was she—the passionate painter or the party girl?

If she were no longer the wild child of the tabloids, what made her change?

His cell rang. Checking the screen, he thought about not answering. How many more times could he listen to Brady beg him to come back? Maybe he should. Hell, if she delighted in showing off for the paparazzi like a Jersey Shore cast member then what was a couple of articles of clothing? A woman had never done a belly shot off of him. No pictures of him on the net sucking face with two women. No wonder she came around to the fact he stripped on occasion. Victoria was no saint.

He answered with the intent of telling Brady he was back on board but answered the phone with, “I’m not coming back.” Russ was the worst kind of sucker. The lovesick kind.

“Good day to you mate.”

“It was.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with the sheila you brought up on stage?”

Russ didn’t want to tell a porky to his friend but he knew Victoria went to a lot of trouble and apparently not even Ava gave up the ruse. “I don’t know her.” Which wasn’t a complete lie, Russ didn’t know who the real Victoria was and until he did he’d protect her identity.

“Really? A reporter from Rumor with the Stars was snooping around here after you left.”

“I saw her picture plastered all over the papers today.”

“Yeah, bonzer publicity for the show.”

“I thought the show didn’t reveal the clientele.”

“Of course we don’t but we can’t stop the rags from showing up.”

“What about Xena?”

“Name’s Ava. A total bust. All we did was talk business. She’s an agent.”

“That’s too bad—losing your touch old man,” joked Russ.

“Look who’s talking? You went home to bed. Alone.”

“Yeah, I’m hitting the ibuprofen a little hard today.” Though it wasn’t just the dancing of the vertical type but from doing the horizontal tango with Victoria.

“Yeah, me too. Time to move on—or so Ava said. She thinks she can hook me up with a commercial.”

“So we’re square about me ditching?” Russ scrolled through a few more pictures.

“No worries mate. You lost your moves anyway.”

“Excuse me? The women screamed their bloody heads off for me.”

“Hah, the crowd was so whipped up they would have screamed for an old gent in a walker.”

“Or with a flabby gut.”

“Are you implying I’ve let myself go?”

Russ laughed. “Yeah, your eight-pack is now only a six-pack.”

“Good on you, mate. Hey, you’re still on for rugby in Central Park on Sunday? Unless you lost those moves too.”

He couldn’t refuse. Brady let him off the hook about quitting but there was no way he’d be forgiven for missing a rugby match with his mates. Russ agreed as he clicked back to the image of the guy lapping up liquor off of Victoria’s belly. He could use a good game to work off the aggression he was feeling deep inside his gut.

Chapter 23

D
espite her mother’s earlier theatrics, the day was turning into a good one. Her body still hummed with pleasure. She signed on two more clients and scheduled appointments to see their spaces after the upcoming episode was wrapped. The pace of her life was frantic but she had to build her business now while she was on top. Design Intervention wouldn’t last forever. She’d made a name for herself in the interior design world but was far from cementing her place in it.

Victoria knew she was running behind as she grabbed her portfolio case with the designs for the next makeover. Unlike Russ, she prided herself on her punctuality. As the taxi pulled up to her studio she assured herself that he wouldn’t even be there when she arrived. Plopping down in the backseat in an exhausted heap she gave the address for the Hahn brownstone in Brooklyn. Long gone were those long nights of bar hopping and partying but at least back then she could sleep in until noon. Victoria didn’t miss that hung over feeling or being the butt of late night comedian’s dumb jokes. Still, she had no regrets about her past. She made her mistakes young and when she grew old she’d have a wild past she could share with her grandchildren. If she didn’t get started soon, she’d be a hundred before that happened.

Instead of pouring over her sketches, she watched the city go by. She wondered if Russ wanted children. Did he come from a big family? There was so much she didn’t know about him, yet in bed the warmth between them was undeniable. All the other questions and facts were only static getting in the way of the truth. When their gazes met words weren’t necessary. When he touched her, the past didn’t exist, just this one moment in time. When he tugged her into an embrace she knew what it meant to be at home.

But did he feel the same way?

Russ had left her studio only four hours ago but she missed him and his arrogant Aussie way as if she was an addict who needed a fix. What would the cost be to her heart to feed her habit? Damn him. What was she going to do? It wasn’t like she could run away, her typical MO, they worked together. If Neil didn’t returned soon she’d end up in love.

The cell rang. Neil! Thank God she had the manners to ask how his mother was before she hit him up for advice.

“She’s holding her own.”

“So when are you coming home?” As much as she wanted Neil back it meant Russ would be leaving. Victoria was so mixed up she didn’t know what she wanted.

“Never mind that. Stop stalling.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were supposed to call me back.” Neil’s voice was laced with reprimand.

Victoria had to be careful about what she said since the cab driver seemed to know who she was and was waiting to strike up a conversation. “Well, I …”

“And before you tell me some lame story know that this morning I pulled up the NY Post website and bam there you are coming out of a strip club!”

She should’ve known Neil would be checking the gossip sites and would remember all her disguises. “Yep.”

“The Thunder Down Under Male Revue.”

“Yep.”

“Making Russ one of the strippers?”

“Yep.” She didn’t think the driver could hear Neil.

“OMG, fanning self!”

Victoria laughed but before he could go on and on she said, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry honey.”

“I’m not talking about the size of his penis, Neil.” She met the eyes of the cabbie and looked away.

“Oh, I am SO jealous.”

It was first time Neil had ever been jealous of one of her men since his type and hers were as different as modern design versus shabby chic. Though they both had past histories of choosing the wrong men. Grouped into cheaters, stealers and fame seekers, which category did Russ fall into? She instinctively knew Russ wouldn’t try to steal her designs or money. There would be no reason for him to cheat since he wouldn’t commit to her or any woman. Possibly a fame seeker—but then he was an actor slash stripper so that should be no surprise. But he was a natural on camera and could easily get a show of his own. He didn’t need her for publicity. He didn’t need her for anything—except sex. Yet he could get that easily enough from any number of women. All he had to do was open his mouth and let his Aussie charm do the rest. Why put up with her? Victoria knew she was high maintenance. Hell, she was a mess.