Come A Little Bit Closer (The Sullivans #7)(22)

Maybe she should have been prepared. After all, it was the third morning in a row that Smith had put something special on her desk for her to find when she got in.

But how could she have possibly prepared for this?

With trembling hands she put down her leather bag and reached for the wooden frame. The black and white picture wasn’t big, but it was beautiful.

She and Tatiana were laughing together on the set. One of her hands was on her sister’s shoulder, while Tatiana had one around Valentina’s waist. They’d always been so easy with their affection, had been curling up together under the covers to watch movies, and giggle, and comfort each other since her sister was a baby. Valentina had never thought twice about how natural it was to reach for her, to hold her, to laugh with her.

Their closeness wasn’t something she took for granted, but seeing it captured so beautifully made her see it anew for what it was.

Yet again, Smith had made sure she saw the gift first, his note second. She didn’t put down the frame as she picked up the sheet of paper with her free hand.

Valentina,

This picture was one of the candids Larry has been taking of the cast and crew. You and Tatiana are so easy. Sweet. Perfect.

Looking at how happy you are in this picture makes me smile.

Smith

Just as she’d done the previous morning when he’d given her breakfast, she re-read the note several times, until his words were tattooed on her memory.

No wonder he’d been able to write such a beautiful screenplay, if he could capture so much with so few words. Words that were right. So right that all the things he had said he believed love could be were in this picture. Neither she nor her sister was trying, and neither of them was afraid of love being ripped away.

The love between them just was. And the deep, intrinsic knowledge that nothing would, that nothing could ever pull them apart, made it even more precious.

A few moments later, it wasn’t the photo that she lifted to press to her lips as she took a shaky breath and worked to clear her gaze. She didn’t know how it was possible, but the short, beautiful note even smelled like Smith: clean, sexy man.

She knew how powerful actors usually behaved. She’d seen enough of them give her mother diamond bracelets and expensive trips—even a car once. One call to an assistant and each of those gifts were dispatched, much to her mother’s joy.

And yet, the flower, breakfast, and now a black-and-white photo that she’d treasure forever, meant so much more than glittering jewelry or any other expensive toy ever could.

Smith was balancing a dozen responsibilities on this film, between acting, producing and directing. She’d heard him talking with more than one member of his family on the phone during quick breaks, especially his pregnant sister Sophie, whom he checked in on every single day.

And yet, somehow in the middle of more pressure than any person should be able to withstand, he was doing this for her, too. She put in long hours and got in earlier than most of the crew, but his hours made hers look borderline lazy.

He didn’t have the time to waste on her. Because that’s what it had to be in the end, didn’t it?

A waste.

Yes, if she gave in to his wooing, they would likely end up having hot sex. Her entire body tingled at the thought of just how hot sex with Smith would likely be.

But even while she schooled herself to get over the crazy fantasy of one night with him, a voice in her head forced her to listen as it whispered that being with Smith wouldn’t just be hot...it would also be easy. Sweet.

And perfect.

* * *

Valentina knocked on Smith’s trailer door, though it was already open. She valued her privacy enough to value everyone else’s, too. Especially that of a man who rarely got to have any.

“Come in.”

With his deep, inherently sensual voice rasping up her spine, her first thought was the same one she always had when she saw him.

Gorgeous.

Followed immediately by sexy.

And then want.

But close on their heels was another.

Tired.

For the past few weeks, Smith’s energy hadn’t flagged, hadn’t waned, nor had she ever once caught him complaining. But for the very first time, he looked worn down.

Her protective urges jumped to the fore. “Is everything okay?”

He got up from his desk to pour her a cup of coffee. “Much better now that you’re here.”

God, it was so hard to keep fighting her feelings for him. Because she liked him. Wanted him, too, with a desperation that was breaking her down, slowly but surely, every second he was near.

And when he wasn’t.

“I know how busy you are,” she began, but she was sick and tired of stalling around him. She’d always prided herself on being direct. Forthright. And appreciative when someone was kind. It was precisely what she’d taught Tatiana. And, she knew, what her mother had taught her before that.

Valentina moved closer to him this time, rather than farther away. “I forgot to say thank you yesterday for the flower. For breakfast. And, especially, for the photo. You didn’t have to.” She smiled at him as she said, “But I can’t deny that I’m glad you did.”

When the mirror of his smile came, it took away some of the exhaustion stamped into his nearly perfect features. “It was my pleasure, Valentina.”

He handed her the drink and their fingertips brushed as she took the mug from him.