Tamed by You (16 page)

Heart roaring in his ears, he collapsed on top of her, hearing her own heart beat crazily in time with his.

Each thump was for him. That strange warmth swelled in his chest until he felt like it was going to explode. He kissed her temple and tucked her in closer to him, liking the softness of her sweater on his skin.

Kicking off her shoes, she purred and nestled closer. "Lunch is suddenly my favorite meal."

He covered her breast with his hand. "Lunch comes with dessert."

She smiled like a naughty kitten. "I love dessert."

He loved
her
. But he just said, "So do I," and then proceeded to show her how much.

Chapter Seventeen

"I did something bad," Valentine confessed as she held the pose Marley had put her in: legs crossed, reaching for a glass of wine on the table in front of her.

"How bad?" Her friend adjusted the camera lens and took a picture. She looked at the screen and then wrinkled her nose. "The light's not right. Turn your face to the right."

She did as she was told. She always did what she was told.

Except concerning Ethan. With Ethan she'd broken all the rules, and she felt bad enough about it that she couldn't completely enjoy the fantastic part. "I had sex."

"Being bad during sex is an acceptable form of misbehavior, or so Brian tells me." Marley smirked from behind her camera. "Hold it."

When Valentine had agreed to be a model for the shoot, she'd thought it'd be fun. Marley was hired to do the ads for Nectar, a wine bar in the Marina. The place was modern but warm, and the couple times she'd been there with Marley and Nicole it'd been a nice, relaxed place to hang out.

But she wasn't relaxed at all today, and it had nothing to do with the location and everything to do with her messed-up life.

At least her mother was doing better again. Of course, it was at Valentine's expense, because she assured her mom she'd given up any attachment to Ethan.

She waited glumly for Marley to finish, eyeing the glass of wine in front of her. It was a prop, but she bet it'd do the job.

Though that was how she got into this trouble—that glass of whiskey that'd incapacitated her and encouraged her to go crazy.

Fine—she knew better than to blame the whiskey. She'd wanted Ethan badly, even without the aid. All the whiskey had done was loosen her enough to throw caution to the wind. The desire had been there all along.

"It must not have been good sex based on your expression." Marley snapped a few more shots from various angles.

"It was the best sex I'll ever have. Each time." She pouted because she knew she had to end the affair before her mom found out.

"Wow." Her friend peeked out from behind the camera. "I didn't realize you were seeing someone."

"I wasn't. I'm not." Sighing, she dropped her chin onto her hand. "It was Ethan."

"Who?"

"The Hulk."

Marley tripped and fumbled the camera. "
What?
You got it on with the Hulk?"

Valentine sighed again. "And it was glorious."

"You can't spring things like that on me so suddenly. I'd have to spend thousands of dollars to replace this camera."
Marley plopped onto a furry ottoman.
"
You
really got it on
with him?
"

"
Yes.
" Though
got it on
didn't do what they shared justice. She'd seen forever in his arms.

"And he didn't eat you up, at least not that's apparent." Her friend smirked before becoming serious again. "Do
you like him?
"

"
Yes, but—
"

"
Is it the kind of like that leads to white dresses and drooling babies?
"

She stayed silent,
not wanting to admit that she'd imagined that very thing.

"Uh-oh."
M
arley held up her camera and took a quick picture of her face. "Does your mom know?"

"
No
."

"Then y
ou're kind of screwed, aren't you?
"

She shook her head.
"
I'm
not
screwed.
"

"What are you going to do?" Stepping back, Marley adjusted the lens and pressed down on the button, her camera clicking one photo after another. "
Pair him up with yourself?
"

"
I can't. The first cardinal rule of matchmaking is
not
to fall in love with your client.
"

M
arley paused.
"
You're in love with him?
"

"
No
."

"
That was vehement.
"

"
Because I meant it.
"

"
Or because you feel it.
" Marley looked through the viewfinder of her camera. "Can you try looking a little happier? We don't want people to think coming to Nectar is a drag."

She pasted a smile on her face.

"You're a pathetic model." Marley shook her head. "Think about the Hulk naked."

Valentine's breath caught, and her entire body flushed. She'd seen him naked just that morning, when she'd "made a run to Grounds for Thought." That was what she'd told her mother she was doing, and she did, but after a quickie with Ethan.

It'd been fast and physical, aggressive in the best way possible.

"That's what I'm talking about," Marley mumbled.

The whirr of the camera near her face broke into her memories, bringing her back to the moment. The euphoria faded as reality set in. "The problem is, Ethan isn't right for me."

"According to your app?"

"Actually, according to my app, we're compatible." Too compatible.
She'd called her sister to make sure her algorithms were correct
,
and Isabella had assured her everything was perfect. "My app works too well, I think."

"
D
oes that mean it paired you up with the Hulk?"

"Yes," she said glumly.

"Why are you so down about it? I'd think you'd be excited."

"My mom's not happy about it."

"
You've told her
that you love the Hulk and want to have sex with him for the rest of your life
?
"

"
Of course not.
"
She shuddered, imagining the fallout, followed by a double funeral, because if her mom died, her dad would probably follow right after.

Marley shrugged. "Then just tell her the love part. She's a matchmaker. She
'll
understand it."

"
No, she won't."

"
How do you know?
"

"Because I told her about my app and how it paired me with Ethan, and she flipped out. She had an episode. Her heart almost exploded."

"Bummer."

No, the real bummer was what would happen if her mom found out that Valentine had made her app available on all the online stores.

She wasn't sure what had compelled her to do it. One minute she was thinking about Ethan, and the next thing she knew she'd pushed her product live. It was like something had taken hold of her inside and she was on a rebellious tear.

The problem: Her app was doing even better than she'd imagined. It'd been live for only a few days, and it was already selling better than she'd expected. She'd been half hoping it'd bomb, so she could just submit to her mom. She really did want to be the daughter her mom wanted, even if it killed her.

Better her than her mom.

Moving around her, Marley pushed a chair out of the way with her foot. "I don't think I can get used to calling him
Ethan
."

"How about the Predator?" At her friend's questioning look, she shrugged. "It's his fighter name."

"He's a fighter? Now it all makes sense."
Marley put her camera down.

"We're done?"

"I got a couple shots
the owner will be happy with. A
nd, frankly, you're not the most upbeat model ever."

"Sorry."

Marley
shrugged as she put away her lens. "
It's understandable. You're in the first throes of love.
"

Valentine winced. "Stop saying that."

"Not saying it won't make it less true." Her friend eyed her. "You shouldn't let your mom walk all over you."

That was the thing—she wanted her mom to respect her, but she didn't know how to achieve that without overly upsetting her. She wanted freedom, but not at the price of her mother's health. It was especially hard because Venus genuinely wanted her to be happy.

"If you don't establish boundaries, she'll own you forever," Marley continued obliviously. "You aren't going to be happy with that."

Happiness seemed like too much to ask for at the moment. She sighed. "You know what'd make me happy? A banana split."

"I'm not sure I believe that, but I'm willing to indulge in your delusions."

Valentine stood up. "You're such a great friend."

"I try." Marley slid her arm through Valentine's. "Come on. My treat, since you look so pathetic."

"I'm glad it's working for me." She squeezed her friend's arm. "Thank you."

Marley smiled. "That's what friends are for."

Chapter Eighteen

The last thing Sophie expected to see when she walked out of Julie's restroom was her traitorous friend standing at the front counter, reading her journal.

"
What are you doing?
" She rushed forward to grab her journal back.

Julie waved her away with one hand while she flipped the page with the other. Then she laughed and quickly turned to the next page.

The sound of Julie's laughter made Sophie stop in her tracks. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard the florist laugh like that.

"I hesitate in saying this, because your ego is already plenty big"—Julie pointed to the notebook—"but this is good. Really good."

Sophie leaned against the refrigerator as the starch went out of her legs. "My scene?" she asked weakly.

"The whole story, at least what I've read of it so far. It's more than a scene."

"This isn't a screenplay," Sophie replied adamantly.

Julie gave her a flat look. "You're the one who brought up the word
screenplay
, not me."

Sophie crossed her arms.

"Why don't you just do this?" her so-called friend asked, gesturing to the writing. "You're good at it, and you have connections. Wouldn't you be better off working on your own?"

"I want the part in
Doctor Zhivago
."

"Has that director called?"

"No." Damn it.

"I don't know why you want to work for someone so badly." Julie
handed her the journal and went to the worktable. She
made a face at a bunch of yellow roses and then
pulled
them
from
a bucket. "I can't imagine it. I'm so much better off doing it on my own. I'm surprised you
're so reluctant to do it yourself. People like us can't work for other people."

Sophie put her hands on her hips. "When did I get lumped in with you?"

Julie didn't deign to reply to that. She set the bunch of flowers down and chopped off several inches from the bottom. "But if you want to keep banging your head against a wall, go for it. What do I care, except that you come in here and make my life miserable."

That stung. Did she mean it? Sophie studied her but she couldn't tell. She stuffed the journal into her bag and said, "I'll just leave then."

Engrossed in her floral arrangement, Julie mumbled something indistinct.

Fine. Drooping, she left the store. She walked in the direction she thought was home. After fifteen minutes, she realized she was just walking in circles, so she flagged down a taxi to deliver her home.

Tony's car was in the driveway. She perked up marginally. She hadn't seen him since their date three nights ago. He'd had to suddenly fly out to Los Angeles for a couple days.

After their date, he kissed her the way he’d promised: so thoroughly she hadn't been able to sleep, even after using her vibrator. She'd wondered if it was a fluke, but he'd kissed her again before he left the next morning and she'd had the same reaction—like she had a sudden fever that wouldn't be soothed.

It sounded like he was in the kitchen, so she hurried there, eager to see him, eager to kiss him. Some of the disgruntled feeling Julie had left her with faded in her excitement. "Hello?" she called out.

He turned around and stared at her with a dead look.

Something was very wrong. Worry clawed up her throat, but she swallowed it back and pretended to be blithe. "Not a successful trip?"

Reaching across the counter, he slapped a magazine in front of her.

It was obviously an industry gossip magazine. She felt a chill go down her spine, knowing what she was going to find.

Sure enough, on a side column there was the photo she'd leaked, of her and Tony at dinner the other night. Tony was angled toward her, listening intently. But what struck her was the soft expression on her face and the way she leaned into him, her hand on his arm.

It hadn't looked so intimate on the small screen on her phone. Seeing it in print was like peeking through a window and witnessing a private moment.

The caption underneath didn't help:

Hollywood's Hot Diva and Her New . . . ?

She swallowed a burst of nerves and tried to laugh as she closed the magazine. "So much for the paparazzi thinking I'm in St. Barth’s. I guess it was too good to last."

Tony stared at her coldly. "You did this, didn't you?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but she knew it'd only make the situation worse. "This is hardly something to get your boxers all twisted over," she said with a careless wave of her hand.

He didn't look like he agreed. "Why?"