After a few moments of staring at him like an idiot, she realized that it wasn’t the clothes that made him so attractive. It was that even though he was wearing a corporate uniform, there was something about him that he’d never be able to shake, that identified him as different. The strength of his personality was so strong that it came through no matter what he wore, and it drew her to him.
As good as he had looked this morning when she saw him, she realized as she watched another film scene for what felt like the millionth time, he didn’t completely look like himself. And she missed the real Chris.
She snorted at her own thoughts, making him look up from where he was sitting at the desk right next to her. He’d been programming all morning, ever since she’d signed the contract that would make her, Minh Jackson, a film composer.
She’d wanted this for so long. She’d been working for this chance.
As agreed, she’d given notice at her job at the dentist’s office on Monday afternoon, right after he’d called her. She still couldn’t believe she’d done something so risky. Had she made the right choice? Was this the beginning of another big mistake?
She’d seen how passionate Chris was about his work, and the way he treated his employees with respect had only enhanced her desire to follow his lead and try something bolder than usual. At first, she’d thought he was a selfish jerk, with the tattoos and his insults and the way he seemed not to care about anyone or anything except his own objectives. But he cared about Daria. He cared what the others at Phantom Studios thought. He seemed genuinely passionate about his work, rather than the fame and fortune that being in the movie business could bring him. And then during their phone call afterward, she’d seen a new side of him that she couldn’t get out of her thoughts since. He wasn’t the uncaring, blindly brash guy she thought he was at first. He might be a risk-taker, but he’d taken the time to listen to her advice instead of dismissing her as too boring and inconsequential. He made her feel like she was worth paying attention to.
She was certainly paying attention to him. In fact, now he was on her mind constantly. Day…and night.
The dreams were intensifying. She could almost feel his touch in the dreams she’d had about him the past two nights.
But still…
He made her uncomfortable. There was only so far she could stretch before it became too much.
“Fuck, I need a break.” He pushed away from the desk and looked over at her while he started rolling up his sleeves. Ohgodpleasedontdothat. Watching him slowly unbutton his cuffs, then work the material up his arms, all the while with those burning blue eyes on her…
“Everything okay?”
Oh, that voice. She’d missed that voice, too, over the past couple of days.
Focus. You’ve quit your safety net, remember? You can’t afford to get distracted.
She nodded. “Yeah, I was just thinking about, uh, the piece for this scene.”
The film they were making was a twist on The Prince and the Pauper, about a peasant boy who trades places with a prince, and eventually becomes the true king. In the clip she’d just seen, the prince and the poor boy had just met, and the prince was making his argument for why the boy should take his place.
He pointed to her violin case. “Any ideas you want to share?”
I have plenty of ideas, but most of them involve you, naked.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
She blinked. “Uh, not yet. I—”
Ring ring!
That was her phone. But where had she left it? She looked around, trying to find where she’d left it.
A big, strong hand appeared in her line of vision. He’d finished rolling up his sleeves and now she stared, transfixed, at the tattoo on his forearm. The design was of the North Wind, blowing down his arm. That’s what those lines and swirls were that she’d seen—that she’d touched—the first night they’d met.
Winds of change.
“I know you’re not a fan of my ink. I’ll cover them up if they bother you that much.” His mouth was close to her ear, growling the words and making her want to melt into him. But before she could protest, her phone sounded again.
She could only shake her head at him as she reached out, hand trembling, to take the phone. She didn’t even bother checking the caller ID. All she could see were those colors. That wide palm. Long fingers.
Ring ring!
“You gonna answer that?” Chris was looking at her strangely. Like he was annoyed and wary at the same time. Was it because of the phone call? Or maybe…did he really think she didn’t like the way he looked? Did he think she didn’t like him?
Because she did. She wasn’t just starting to, she realized. She liked him.
She finally focused on the call. It wasn’t a number she recognized. She shook her head and silenced the phone. “If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
He gave her a weird look. Did he know what she’d been thinking, about how much she wanted to touch him? Her cheeks felt warm. Could he see her embarrassment?
It wasn’t right, the way she wanted a guy like him.
It’s just the clothes he’s wearing. He’s more familiar, that’s all. More accessible.
Just like that piece she’d composed for the lake scene.