Reluctant Substitute (excerpt)

Title : Reluctant Substitute

Release date : Available now (purchase links under "Books" heading)

EXCERPT ...

The whole way into work on the bus, and the train, the butterflies were flying around in my stomach. The closer I got to work, the worse they got. Except today they were in flight from excitement, and not from nerves.

Oh, my God. My heart stopped for a few seconds when I walked through the glass doors of the building. Mr. Connors was already in the foyer. The heat began climbing through my face, and only deepened when he turned, and noticed me, with a smile so disarming, my heart started beating at double speed. I reached the building a little earlier than I did yesterday, hoping to avoid riding up in the elevator with him. That plan had definitely backfired.

“Good morning, Miss Walker.”

Was he deliberately adding extra allurement when saying my name?

“Good morning, Mr. Connors,” I murmured my response, sighing, and averting my eyes away from his face.

I focused my concentration on the patterns in the tiles on the floor, knowing my face was turning all shades of red. I just couldn’t seem to control it around him, especially when thoughts of yesterday permeated every section of my brain on seeing him again.

Today he was wearing a charcoal suit, and a pale pink stripped shirt, with a darker pink satin tie. Jesus Christ---we almost fucking match each other. He looked good…really handsome.

His distinct aftershave reached my senses, and I inhaled, hoping I was discrete enough that he didn’t see my lungs expand, and know what I was doing. The man had eyes almost everywhere, and noticed everything---which I already learned in spades.

There weren’t as many people in the foyer as there had been yesterday, but they were starting to dwindle in, building as the elevator doors opened. Mr. Connors let a few in, and then waved his arm in front of him, smiling that killer smile of his at me that completely left me brain dead.

“Miss Walker,” he prompted me to precede him into the car, grinning as I hastened passed him, and stood up next to the back of the car.

That turned out to be a bit of a mistake on my part. Mr. Connors stood right next to me, his suit covered arm just brushing the bare skin of mine, sending electricity charging through me, like a fast flowing river approaching the rapids. I should have stood at the front.

I resisted the urge to look at him, but I knew full well every time his eyes burned in the side of my face. It seemed to happen at regular intervals. Damn him. It was like yesterday repeating itself all over again when my heart rate soared---along with my blood pressure.

We travelled quite a few floors, and the car was slowly emptying, leaving more room. I decided the safest option was to step away from him a little, thinking if I put some distance between us, he might not have such a devastating effect on me.

It didn’t make a damn bit of difference. He stood right behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled with excitement. He was standing so close, I felt his heated breath on my skin. A shiver raced down my spine when I felt the warmth from his body heat the entire back of me.

Dear God. I can’t last three months, and put myself through this every day. I have to see if there is some way out of that bloody agreement I so blindly signed at my interview.

Mr. Connors again waved his arm out in front of him for me to exit the elevator when we reached our floor. I was still trying to get used to all of his acts of chivalry. It was a little unnerving.

I hadn’t been given a second thought by Blake for almost two years, now. I don’t think he ever opened a door on anything for me, at all. And he was always the first one through any door he opened, with me tagging along behind him, whether it was at a restaurant, hotel lobby, or anywhere.

I settled in at my desk, and opened up the extensive list of emails I already received, and immediately saw a problem. One glaring one which had something to do with the invoice I sent the previous afternoon. The client wasn’t questioning the price he was charged. In fact, he advised the funds were already deposited into the account late last night.

But my face drained of blood, while I read what he wrote following that. No fucking way. He has got to be kidding.

The first part of the email was requesting information as to why Montana wasn’t used on this occasion, and why wasn’t he informed prior to the shoot.

The second half of the email was requesting another shoot, with the same model he was sent the proofs of…me!

I started hyperventilating, my stomach clenching painfully, while the words on the screen started to swim in front of me, and I heard Mr. Connors’ sexy amused voice from across the room.

“It appears you have impressed my client, Miss Walker.”

He locked eyes with mine when it registered I was staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. I was speechless, unable to form one single word as I stared at his handsome face, a teasing grin pulling at the corner of his lips. I couldn’t fathom why he thought this was the least bit amusing. I certainly didn’t find it amusing. I felt sick. His grin wavered, and his brow creased a little with concern at my silence.

“Miss Walker?” His concern grew, while I remained silent, and he rose from his chair. “Alison?” He used my Christian name as he approached my desk, coming to sit on the edge of it in front of me.

I sat immobile in my chair, his voice caressing my name so softly, I was momentarily thrown for a loop.

“Hey…” He grasped my hand in one of his, placing his other over the top. “You’ve managed to impress Lachlan Steele on your very first shoot. I told you your talents were wasted as my personal assistant,” he joked.

My very first? The way he said that implied I was going to do more than one, and my brain suddenly snapped in gear, and I pulled my hand from his two handed grasp.

“My ONLY shoot,” I emphasized. Did I have to remind him that I only did it in the first place, because he convinced me I was saving his ass? His brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms along his chest, while he studied me intently.

“Lachlan Steele is my single most important client, Alison. I will do whatever is required to ensure it remains that way. And if it is you he wishes to use as his exclusive model, we will have to work something out to make that happen.”

“NO,” I yelled vehemently, adamantly conveying my unwillingness to agree to any further shoots.

“No?” he questioned.

I didn’t like the twinkle I saw in his eyes, or the fact that my stomach was knotting up when his lips curled up in a smirk.

“I think perhaps you better read the agreement you signed at your interview, Miss Walker.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as my mouth dried out. “Particularly point number thirteen,” he added smugly.

I sat stupefied in my chair. Why the hell didn’t I read that fucking agreement?

“You don’t have a copy?” he raised his brow in question.

When I remained silent, he eased off the edge of my desk, and walked back to his own, opened a drawer on the left hand side of his desk, and pulled out some papers, before coming back to sit comfortably back on the edge of mine. His large hand thrust forward, extending the papers out to me.

“Point number thirteen appears on page two,” he commented with a grin, crossing his arms easily over his chest.

I swallowed in apprehension again when I turned over the page, and ran my eyes down the points listed on the left had side, until I found it.

Point 13. I, the undersigned, hereby consent to become a willing substitute, and/or stand in, for any model not able to attend photographic assignments for permanent clients listed with Sublime Elegance Modelling Agency. I hereby acknowledge I am required to hold a valid, and current passport, to enable travel for assignments as may be required by any permanent clients of Sublime Elegance Modelling Agency.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. My hands were trembling after reading the first line, but by the time I finished reading the whole point, I felt physically ill. Why the fuck didn’t I read the damned thing, before I signed it? Fury directed at myself mushroomed for my glaring stupidity.

“As Montana is no longer with my agency, and Lachlan Steele seems very impressed with your debut shoot, we will have to come to some sort of arrangement to implement your new position within the agency.”

My new position? No---I’m a personal assistant---not a damned model!

“I can’t be a model…”

My insides were knotting up, and the butterflies in my stomach tried to negotiate through the tightening maze when they took flight, propelled by the onset of fear.

“I think yesterday proved you can be, Miss Walker.”

The corners of his lips started to curl up in a salacious grin, a mischievous twinkle showing in the depths of his eyes. He appeared to be enjoying my utter discomfort. He turned his wrist, and lifted the sleeve of his suit jacket, checking the time on his watch.

“We have almost ten minutes, before we have to leave for the studio. That will give you enough time to forward that email from Lachlan Steele to Andre, so he can prepare for the shoot, and determine the desired result Steele is after.”

He stood up off the side of my desk, and returned to his own across the room, leaving me to deal with the rising panic beginning to consume me.

Like an automated robot, I forwarded the email to Andre, silently cursing the unknown, faceless Montana. I managed to work my way through several more emails---refusing to let the impending shoot disturb my thoughts---until I heard Jaxon’s dead sexy voice.

“Time to shine, Miss Walker.”

Time to shine, indeed. I silently prayed yesterday wasn’t about to be repeated as I followed him out to the bank of elevators, the butterflies still whipping up a storm inside my stomach. As we entered the elevator, Christine called out from behind her desk in the foyer.

“Mr. Connors?”

He placed his large hand on the door to prevent it from closing.

“Yes, Christine?”

“Montana’s on the line---she wishes to speak with you.”

My heart soared, hoping she was calling to make amends for whatever she did to piss him off yesterday, and he’d reinstate her, so I didn’t have to be her substitute.

“You can advise Montana her final payment was deposited in her account last night, and she’s already been replaced,” he said sternly.

My heart fell like a dead weight, straight to the pit of my stomach.

“But…”

I didn’t get more than one word out, before he cut me off.

“No ‘buts’, Miss Walker. She’s more trouble than she’s damn well worth!”

From the thinness of his lips, and the glint of anger now appearing in the depths of his cyan eyes, I wasn’t going to be the one to argue the point with him on her behalf, and I bit my tongue.

“We have a shoot to attend, Christine, and we’ll likely be gone for most of the day.”

What? Most of the day? I stared at him in shock as he removed his hand from the door, allowing it to close. My stomach lurched up to my throat when the car quickly began its descent. Yesterday’s shoot had only taken half the day.

I silently cursed myself this time, regretting not reading the rest of that damned email from Lachlan Steele, before I sent it off to Andre. That is not a mistake I’ll be making again. Where the hell was my brain these days? My consciousness smirked at me with a lopsided grin, reminding me it had been turned to mush since holding the elevator doors open for hotness personified, a little more than twenty four hours ago!

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