Really Hot!. Jennifer Labrecque

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a location, he called the first day or so. Poor guy. He was amazingly flexible and resilient, but it was an adjustment for him every time she traveled. It’d be nice to move into the studio job.

      “No, I’m not too busy. What are you doing?” A white-jacketed cook stepped out of the kitchen door and lit up a cigarette.

      “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”

      “I did. This house is cool. You’d love it.”

      They talked for a minute about his day and she assured him she missed him before she ended the call.

      “Love you, Danny. I’ll call you tonight.”

      She snapped the phone shut and turned around, surprised to find O’Malley still by her bed.

      “Oh, I thought you’d left,” she said.

      “I just had one more question for you.” He shifted his weight to his other foot and nodded toward her phone. “Boyfriend?”

      Portia shook her head. “The love of my life.” Her private life was her own business and let him make of that what he would. And maybe that would block this energy, this awareness, that seemed to flow between them.

      “So you don’t need to go on a TV show to find someone special?”

      They couldn’t pay her enough. “No. I have someone special waiting at home.” This was much better. Now if she could just get him out of her room before she found herself mired in more inappropriate thoughts. “Thanks for bringing my suitcase. I’ll see you at the briefing.”

      She all but pushed him out into the hall and closed the door behind him. She blew out a deep breath and realized O’Malley’d never asked the question he’d waited around to ask. Too bad, so sad. She’d needed him out of her room. He had a way of invading her space, getting under her skin, unnerving her.

      She opened her suitcase on the bed. O’Malley’s scent lingered—or was it all in her head? Do you like it hard? She felt flushed. God help her, but her nipples hardened just thinking about the lazy challenge in his deep-blue eyes. Her hands shook slightly as she unpacked her underwear.

      She had a feeling this was going to be a very long two weeks.

      ROURKE WANDERED BACK through the mansion, fascinated by the architectural details in the house and disquieted by his encounter with Portia Tomlinson. She was pleasant, complimentary even, but he still had the feeling she disliked him. No. That wasn’t exactly true. It was something between dislike and dismissal. She’d told him how handsome he was and even with her dispassionate tone, it’d meant more than all the crazy rantings Nick had shown him on a Web site. Pathetic really. When she’d laughed and teased him over the purple panties, she’d been different—more accessible, not so distant—which only accentuated the other.

      And the change in her when she’d taken that phone call—there’d been a softness about her. What kind of man brought that look to her face? She’d deemed the caller, Danny, the love of her life and Rourke had felt a stab of something akin to jealousy. Which was ridiculous because she was clearly off-limits. He was about to meet twelve beautiful women who were here because they were interested in him. So what if, every time he was in the same room with Portia, his gut knotted and he felt as energized as he did when he was about to close a big deal?

      And obviously he hadn’t listened closely enough to Nick’s pointers. For God’s sake, he’d been in her bedroom… But then again, her boyfriend—nah, the love of her life—

      “Hello again,” said a female voice directly in front of him.

      He stopped. He’d almost plowed right into Jacey.

      “Sorry, my mind was somewhere else.” He shook his head to clear it of Portia. He was delighted Jacey was here. He grinned at her. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re going to be the person behind the camera on the set.”

      She returned the grin. “Yeah, it’s a regular old home week.”

      “No kidding. I just ran into Portia,” he said.

      “Her room is next to mine. We’re staying in the servants’ quarters,” Jacey said. “Tells you something about our jobs, doesn’t it?”

      “Is it really that bad?” he asked.

      “Nah. There are worse ways to make a buck.”

      “How’d you get started in this business? Have you always been interested in cameras?” he asked, genuinely interested.

      Jacey glanced at him suspiciously, as if he couldn’t possibly be curious. He laughed aloud at her dark look. “I really want to know. You sort of remind me of my younger brother.”

      “He’s into Goth?”

      Rourke laughed aloud at the mental image of Nick decked out in Goth attire. He’d have to be drugged or dead first. “No. He’s into Ralph Lauren, but you both say what you think.”

      Jacey relaxed, and began outlining her work history. The transformation was incredible. Finally, she gave a self-conscious laugh. “Probably more than you bargained for there.”

      “No. I think that’s really cool.”

      “Have you ever looked through a studio camera?”

      “I’ve never had any exposure to TV before this.”

      “I could show you sometime. Like maybe after taping or something. If you wanted to. But you don’t have to.”

      “That’d be awesome. I’d love it. You just tell me one day when you have time.”

      “It’s a deal then. The camera brings this clarity to things…” she caught herself. “Whoa, there I go again.”

      “It’s obviously more than a job with you. More like a passion.”

      “Pretty much.” She cocked her dark head to one side and looked at him. “You know, you sort of remind me of Digg. You’re real.”

      “Thanks. I’m extremely flattered. He seems like a great guy.” It hadn’t been rocket science to figure out that Digg and Jacey were an item. An unlikely item, but an item nonetheless. Although, after chatting with Jacey they didn’t seem as unlikely a couple as before.

      “He’s okay.” Her smirk belied her tone. She checked her watch. “Holy shit. You’ve got a briefing and I’ve got camera checks in ten minutes. Portia’ll have my ass if I’m the reason you’re late.”

      “Really? She’s a task master?”

      “Not really. But she’s punctual.”

      “She’s sort of hard to get to know. What does she do for fun?” Rourke shamelessly pumped Jacey for information about Portia.

      “Laundry? Seriously, I don’t know. She keeps to herself. Hey, what’s with the interest in Portia? Twelve rich girls aren’t enough selection for you?”

      “Of course not. I mean, of course they are. I was just curious about her since СКАЧАТЬ