Two Week Turnaround (6 page)

It was a perfectly rational reason and she knew he couldn't argue with it. But more than anything she needed to buy herself some time to get her head on straight since Isaac had obviously screwed it senseless.

“Later then.” He dropped a kiss on the swell of her left breast and popped out of bed.

Sofia couldn't help but appreciate his firm ass as he strutted to the bathroom, stopping to wink at her from the doorway. She tossed the tabloids aside and buried her face in the pillow. Who was she kidding? Isaac was trouble, but trouble of the best possible variety.

Chapter Seven

Isaac dodged flying debris. It was only foam, but in the finished scene it would look as if he'd nearly been crushed by a collapsing building. He'd got a little too close to the staged explosion, which was exactly what had had him nursing a headache yesterday. But today he'd done it on purpose. He felt high—untouchable. The adrenaline he'd felt since kissing a very naked Fia goodbye on his bed coursed through him. Now they'd managed to get the scene perfect in one take. There would be more so the crew could catch all the angles, but he'd nail them, too.

“Cut!” the director yelled. “Reset the scene.”

Antonio ambled toward Isaac and clapped him on the back. “Good work. Just a few more takes, but if you keep bringing that energy we're going to be back on schedule in no time.”

Isaac sensed the young director's relief. This film was his chance to make the jump from music videos to the big screen. The actor nodded in grateful acknowledgment.

“Get some rest and some water,” Antonio advised him before proceeding over to one of the cameramen to discuss what he wanted to capture with the next take.

Isaac ran the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat beading there from his exertion. He should rest, but he had other things on his mind. Glancing around the set his eyes landed on her. Fia watched him from the craft table. Their eyes locked and he was moving toward her with the speed of a man possessed. He was on the top of his game because of her and suddenly he needed a snack.

Spencer stepped into his path, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It's a goddamn shame they didn't have more cameras out there, man. That was tight.”

Isaac mumbled in agreement, sidestepping his buddy who followed him. He only had eyes for Fia. Spencer's head turned to see what had Isaac distracted, the confusion on his face shifting to boyish glee when he spotted her.

“I see.” He nudged Isaac in the ribs. “You got like twenty minutes before they'll be ready for the next take.”

“I only need ten, but I'll take twenty.” His Southern accent slipped over his tongue as he spoke and Spencer shook his head before releasing his friend.

Fia had obviously gone back to her own hotel and found something to wear on set. A tight skirt that was long enough to be professional and short enough to show off her shapely calves. He could almost feel the silk of her stockings caressing his face. In a few minutes, he'd be making that a reality.

“Mr. Blue,” she greeted him coolly, but her eyes blazed as he approached her. The icy blue had melted entirely. She might be able to put on an act for everyone else, but she couldn't fool him.

“Ms. King.” He returned the formal greeting, taking her elbow and steering her away from the action and into an unused part of the set.

“I came,” she said huskily.

“And you're about to again,” he promised her, pushing her against a cement column. The empty parking garage had been the setting for a high-speed car chase a few days ago. They wouldn't need it again, but it seemed like a shame to waste the space.

“This is a bad idea,” she warned him. “Anyone could see us.”

“You know how it works, Fia. They don't need it anymore so they won't even think to look for me here.”

“There's no way I'll let you be late to the director's call. I am your publicist after all,” she reminded him.

“Did you see that last take?” he asked her. Isaac clasped her wrists in one muscular hand and raised them over her head, pinning them to the cement. With his free hand, he began to unbutton her pristinely starched blouse. The only thing better than making love to Fia was watching her transform from the sexy, take-charge professional she'd become to the wild, passionate woman who had shared his bed. “I've never nailed something like that in one take. So your theory about focusing all my energy on one healthy distraction? I'd say that worked.”

“I'm glad that my methods are helping you.” She tried to stifle a gasp as his rough fingers invaded her bra and freed her nipples.

“About that,” he growled, bringing his lips close to her ear, “I'd prefer if we kept this method just between us. I'm not sure your other clients could handle it.”

Fia's eyes rolled back and she smiled. “Deal.”

“As long as we agree.” His teeth nipped her earlobe and this time there was no stopping her moan. Slipping his hand under the hem of her skirt, he hiked it up around her hips, pulling back in surprise when his fingers closed over her bare pussy.

“I thought I'd save you some time,” she purred.

His fingers explored the clasp of her garter belt. “Knowing you're here without any panties on might actually be too much of a distraction.”

“Better get it out of your system,” she suggested with mock innocence as her fingers deftly undid the fly of his jeans.

“My thoughts exactly.” He groaned as her fingers closed over his stiff dick.

“Ready and willing, I see,” she teased.

“Always.” When the shooting finally wrapped on the film in a few weeks, he might have to find a way to raise more hell to keep her around keeping him in line. Or maybe he should find a therapist. He'd deal with his obvious compulsion issues later. Right now he needed to be inside her.

In her heels, she was nearly his height, providing him the perfect entrance. He positioned himself, nudging into her wetness, and waited for her signal. Fia's eyes closed and her teeth sank into her lower lip. He was go for launch.

Pushing into her swollen opening, he pressed his forehead against hers. Their lips brushed, making subtle contact without actually kissing. He could hardly believe his luck. Here he was with Fia, the only girl he'd ever let slip away, pinned against a column.

“I'm not coming without you,” he warned her. “So, princess, if you want me back on that set...”

He let the thought trail away as he felt her pelvic muscles tightening around his dick. “Fuckkkk,” he groaned and immediately increased his pace.

Fia's lips crushed against his, closing the nebulous space between them, and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. He felt possessive of her. It wasn't enough to have his dick inside her. He wanted to fill her—consume her—like she'd done to him. Fia sucked his tongue hungrily in response as if she knew what he was thinking.

She tightened around him and erupted in a series of cries and whimpers that made it impossible for him to hold out any longer. He lost himself to her, grinding himself into her as he held her mouth captive. When they finally broke apart they were both panting and sweaty.

“So much for resting between takes,” he said, gulping for air. He lowered Fia to the floor and smoothed her skirt back down.

Fia frowned as she began rebuttoning her blouse, her eyebrows knitting together in an adorable expression of concern. “I didn't know you were supposed to be resting.”

Isaac finished pulling up his pants before hooking an arm around her and drawing her body back against his. He couldn't resist kissing her, which effectively destroyed her attempt at coddling him.

Behind Isaac, someone cleared their throat and they froze, still half-dressed. Fia's gaze locked with his and then very carefully she lifted her head to peek over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and Isaac braced himself.

“And cut,” Arnold Maxx's gruff voice called dryly.

* * *

Isaac extricated himself from her as gracefully as he could. For a guy considered to be the ultimate man's man, he looked a little spooked. Of course, no man wanted to get caught with his boss's daughter. But it wasn't like Sofia and her father had a normal relationship

At least he had the good grace to give them a moment to finish adjusting skirts and pants and shirts.

Sofia shot Isaac a reassuring smile and then moved to give her father a hug.

“Sorry to...interrupt,” Maxx apologized. “I was in a meeting over at Studio 6 and thought I should stop by the set. No one was sure where you'd disappeared to, Isaac. You're lucky I didn't bring a search party along with me.”

“Arnold...I...” Isaac couldn't seem to find words, which was a rare occurrence for him. Usually, he was full of them.

“I figured that was your ass on the cover of half the daily rags.” He studied his daughter as though appraising the situation. Next to him Isaac's gaze shifted from Sofia to her father as if he was doing the same thing. He looked a little more confused, though.

There was no point in giving him an excuse. Later she would level with him and explain the situation. Her father had known about her past with Isaac when he sent her on this case. She'd given him fair warning that the situation might prove unpredictable, although even she hadn't seen this outcome.

“Will you excuse my daughter and me?” Maxx asked politely.

“Sure,” Isaac agreed, clearly still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. “Are you sure you don't want to...I don't know, punch me?”

Arnold's forehead wrinkled, revealing that it was time for a trip to the Beverly Hills spa he frequented. “Why?”

“Because I...” Isaac hesitated and looked at Sofia.

“Send your speech coach a present,” Maxx advised him, “because sometimes I forget you're from the South and then you remind me.”

“Okay!” Sofia stepped between them before her father could shock Isaac to death. “I'll see you later.” She brushed a kiss across Isaac's lips, stepping back quickly before the electricity between them became awkwardly obvious. Taking her father's offered arm, she forced herself not to look back at Isaac as she was led away.

“Isaac,” Maxx called, stopping a few paces away. “I'm having some of the cast and crew to dinner tonight. I want to hear about the progress. I expect you'll be there—” his gaze shifted to his daughter “—and you as well.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could voice her objection, Isaac nodded. “Of course.”

Sofia would have to talk with him about speaking for her.

“You should invite that friend of yours from prep school,” her father suggested.

“Belle? She would love that.” She eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the other Manolo Blahnik to drop. Arnold Maxx might be liberal, but he'd once interrupted her and a date getting too cozy while holding a prop gun. She was certain it had only had blanks in it. But still. “No lecture?”

May as well get straight to the point.
He might have been in town, but there was no doubt he was checking in on her.

“I'll admit that I had no idea your methods were so unorthodox.” He patted her hand in perhaps the most fatherly display he'd ever shown her. “But Antonio says Isaac has been particularly focused today. Far be it from me to judge.”

“Christ, I don't sleep with my clients.” She wrenched away from him, but she wasn't sure if she was disgusted with his insinuation or with herself.

“I know that,” he assured her. “I've seen some of your clients.”

“Daddy,” she said reproachfully.

“You have a history with Isaac. I was aware of that. I expected some complications, but I can't complain about your results. They've covered more ground in two days' shooting than in the last two weeks. I want you to stick around until it wraps. Two more weeks. Four at the most.”

The no she expected to come out of her mouth came out as “okay” instead. She couldn't stick around London for weeks. Not with clients in LA. She needed to get on a plane by the end of this week.

The problem was that she no longer wanted to.

He paused and narrowed his dark eyes. “As long as you know what you're getting into.”

“I know.” But did she really? Her feelings regarding Isaac were already confusing her. The sheer fact that she was even considering her feelings was proof enough of that. “Your movie will be done on time. Isaac needed a healthy way to fill his free time.” She didn't add that her motives weren't entirely selfless. The passion she'd felt for her ex had proven a tougher cross to bear than she'd anticipated.

“He's not the boy you were in love with,” he warned her.

“I know.” But the assurance only reminded her that he'd become so much more. The realization settled heavily in her stomach. She'd been in love with that boy, as her father called him, and now he'd become a man. But even if he was still charming and funny and sexy as hell, Isaac was also trouble with a capital T. Fixing bad boys was in her job description, but it wasn't on her dating bucket list. Of course, it was becoming harder and harder for her to remember that he had issues. Maybe she needed to make his latest mug shot her screen saver.

“Oh and a word of advice.” Her father paused thoughtfully and wrapped a beefy arm around her shoulder. “Close the curtains in the future.”

Sofia laughed and shook free. Trust Daddy to keep it real.

* * *

It was ridiculous to be nervous. Isaac had walked the red carpet, leaped from fifteen-story buildings and been on the cover of
People
magazine. He was accustomed to scrutiny. But spending time with Fia's father was different. It had been a long time since he had gone to dinner with a woman's family. Actually he'd never officially met the parents. That wasn't how he rolled.

He straightened his tie, checked the mirror and loosened it. The whole suit-and-tie combo felt a bit too much like a costume. In a way that made him feel better, as if tonight's gathering was nothing more than a scene. He could play the part of charming gentleman suitor for the evening. The trouble was that Fia had made it crystal clear that their relationship was a temporary situation, which should have made it even easier to throw himself into the role. But nothing about Fia was easy, except maybe how he felt when he was with her, particularly in the biblical sense.

Isaac yanked off the tie. That felt good. If he was going to pretend for the night, he should be comfortable. He took off his jacket. Even better.