Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(29)

He clutched me to him tightly, his mouth at my ear. “I’m desperate for it too. I’m willing to fight for it, Bianca, willing to fight for us, because it will be a fight sometimes. The life I lead can be overwhelming, and the press can be relentless. Can you swear that no matter what they throw at us, you’ll stay at my side?”

I tensed at his words, suddenly apprehensive that he was referring to some undefined threat in the future, something worse than anything we’d been through before. I didn’t know if it was my imagination—if I was just so used to expecting the worst, or if I could read a strange thread of fear in his voice, but I was suddenly filled with my own fear.

“I promise to try,” I told him finally.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly.

He pulled away, looking resolutely out the window, clutching my hand, and I could tell by his demeanor that he was trying to regain his composure. I got it. I did my own window staring as I tried to regain my own customary calm fa?ade.

We reached our destination quickly, disembarking from the car slowly, the security stepping out first, and then flanking us. The whole process still felt surreal to me, but as James gripped a warm hand on my nape, I thought that I could grow used to anything, with him at my side.

The entire photo shoot episode felt strange to me. I knew from the second we walked in the door that I was out of place. I had dressed the part of the billionaire’s girlfriend, but it just wasn’t me, and I felt a little uncomfortable in my own skin as they swept James off to prep for the photo, and I was expected to just stand around and wait.

Everyone was polite enough, asking me if I needed anything, finding me the best spot to sit and watch the shoot, but it all just made me more self-conscious. I was quickly hiding behind my calmest, blankest expression, and I was all nerves on the inside.

The security wasn’t helping, of course, looking severe and intimidating as they positioned themselves around me and stared down the room. I finally resorted to playing on my phone. I saw a missed text from Stephan and clicked on it immediately.





Stephan: I think meeting up with these guys was a bad idea. They are openly hostile and I’m not sure why.





Bianca: Vance is hung up on Javier, I think. I’ve always gotten that vibe. Is there anything I can do to help? Want me to come there for moral support?





I felt my face heat up in agitation at even the thought of someone being mean to Stephan. He was a very strong man—a very strong person, but I still couldn’t bear the thought.





Stephan: Nah, it’s not that serious, B. I’ll prolly just duck out ahead of schedule. I would like to hang out when u r done there, so give me a holler.





Bianca: Of course. You name the time and place, and I’ll be there. Always.





Stephan: Your swank pad, as soon as you’re done watching your supermodel get photographed.





Bianca: You got it. Love you.





Stephan: Love you, B.





I felt a strong urge to ignore what he said and just go and find him and make sure he was okay, but I stifled it. Stephan was usually very good at telling me just what he needed from me, and if he said that it wasn’t that serious—that he just wanted to hang out when he was done, then that was what he wanted, and that’s what I would do.

I was still stewing about it when James emerged from the changing area. My jaw went a little slack and my mind went completely blank.

He was wearing pale gray slacks and a bright white tie. And that was all. His chest and even his feet were bare, his skin dark and golden against the pale fabric of the tie. His chest was oiled and the sight of it literally made my mouth water. His pants were ridiculously low-slung for dress slacks, which meant they were from wardrobe, and not his. I couldn’t imagine him wearing a suit to work that didn’t fit just perfectly, and those pants looked in danger of falling off, and showing his most delectable parts to the room.

I swallowed hard as he strode to me, watching that V above his waistband move distractingly with stark muscles.

He drew close.

“Hello, Mr. Beautiful,” I said, my voice very soft. It just sort of slipped out.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that right now, Bianca,” he said with a fond smile. “Not unless you want a lot of magazine subscribers to get a really clear picture of my hard-on.”

I nodded. He had a very good point, but I still couldn’t stop looking at him. His chest had the finest sheen of oil on it.

I touched it with a finger.

He grabbed my hand. “Now, now,” he said, but there was still a smile in his voice.

I made myself look at his face. Of course, that view was just as distracting. Someone had tied his hair back from his face. His hair looked darker like that, all of the highlights hidden away.

I clenched my fists to keep from touching him. I was finding it so difficult to keep my hands to myself lately. It was a strange new development for me, when I’d almost always found touching and being touched to be anathema.

I cleared my throat. “You look…” Delectable. Edible. Mouth-watering. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Hopefully I can get this finished quickly.”