Tough Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous, #2)(6)

She found out in a hurry that I’m not the type to be led around by some top-shelf * with nothing in her eyes but dollar signs and photo ops. Unfortunately, she doesn’t catch on to subtlety very quickly, nor does she give up very easily. And now here I am, stuck in a six-episode contract that will put me within claw distance of this beautiful yet vapid vixen.

I glance over Victoria’s shoulder to see Katie watching us, an odd expression on her face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a mixture of disappointment and disgust. And, judging by the rebellious jut of her rounded chin, maybe a little determination, too.

No idea why the hell her disappointment or disgust would bother me, but it does. Something tells me she’s the kind that’s the opposite of Victoria in every way, including her looks.

It’s obvious from her comments to her friend Mona that she’s not the least bit impressed by me. But even so, I saw a little fire in her eyes when I got close. It was reluctant as hell, but it was there nonetheless. It’s that glimpse of heat, that tiny spark that makes me want to see her melt like butter in my hands. If she’s determined to resist any attraction she might feel, then I’m even more determined to make sure she can’t.





FIVE


Katie

“Change of plans,” Victoria purrs, drawing Rogan’s attention back to her face, only inches from his. “I’ll be very close while you’re here.”

There’s a long, tense pause during which I work to suppress my gag reflex.

“Well, I need to get upstairs,” Mona blurts. She’s possibly even less fond of Victoria than I am. “But I need coffee first. I’ll bring you some on my way back by,” she directs at me.

I turn grateful eyes to my friend. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

“Any for you, Mr. Rogan?” she asks, raising her voice and purposely interrupting Victoria’s assault.

Rogan leans around his vicious ex-girlfriend and smiles pleasantly at Mona. “Just Rogan, remember?” He winks at Mona and I think I can actually see her knees buckle a little.

“Rogan, then. Coffee?”

“No, thanks. I try to stay away from . . . artificial stimulants.”

Rogan’s eyes slide back to mine, bringing with them that undeniable heat. I don’t know what he means by that comment, but my belly tells me that it was deliciously wicked, that it was meant to stir, to incite. And, sadly, it does.

Victoria clears her throat and slithers off his lap, standing at his side and putting her body between us. In my mind, her taking steps to block me from his view confirms that his comment was meant for me. And she doesn’t like that one bit.

Mona’s smile is enormous and excited as she sashays past me, leaving me standing awkwardly near the doorway of my own makeup room. I’d like nothing more than to leave with my friend, but I can’t. This is where I work. I can’t very well walk out when I’ve got to get Rogan ready for the first shoot of the day.

Luckily, he takes care of part of the problem. “It was good seeing you, Tori, but Katie’s got to get to work on me. I’m sure I’ll see you around the set,” Rogan offers as he sits up straighter in the chair, suddenly a touch cool and very businesslike.

“Oh, we’ll be seeing lots of each other.” Victoria sounds smug as she bumps Rogan with a swing of her perfectly rounded butt before she turns to walk away. Her smirk is satisfied as she passes me. “See you later, Katie.”

Holy cow, I hope not! I think this, but I don’t say it. Like so much of what goes through my head, it stays firmly locked away. There, it’s safe. There, it won’t get me in trouble. There, it won’t let anyone know what I’m feeling. See the real me. Or get too close to her.

Rogan is watching me in the mirror when I turn my eyes back to him. “Ready?”

I hope he only means am I ready to get started with his makeup. If he means anything else, the answer is NO! In no way am I ready for a guy like him.

No. Way.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Rogan,” I say, just to be obtuse. I’m disgruntled and I have no idea why. Surely this man, this cocky, shallow man, can’t get under my skin.

Surely not.

“Just Rogan,” he repeats.

I nod and smile, but say nothing as I sling a drape around his shoulders.





SIX


Rogan

Katie is quiet as she evaluates me with narrowed eyes, her gaze roving my face, pausing on my eyes and my mouth, on my scars and my nose. She then looks through first one drawer, then another, followed by another and another, collecting things as she goes. She glances back at me repeatedly as she decides what colors to use to . . . I don’t know what. Camouflage? Highlight? Hide completely?

When she catches me watching her, she looks quickly away and tucks her chin a little. I have no idea why the hell a woman who looks like her might want to hide. But it looks like that’s exactly what she’s doing. Like she’d rather be invisible in front of me.

The more closely I watch, the more I discover. For instance, I think she has a couple of nervous ticks—the way she licks one corner of her mouth, the way she pulls that sweep of hair tighter around her neck, like it’s a security blanket. I’d say she’d much rather I not notice things like that, but for some reason they make her all the more fascinating.