Two Week Turnaround (10 page)

Sofia blushed and looked away, but his voice called her back to him. “Are you warm, princess?”

She nodded, still tongue-tied from the onslaught of emotions and ecstasy pouring through her. Isaac pushed up in the bath, not allowing their bodies to break contact, and stepped carefully out of the tub. Sofia clutched his body as he took her into the bedroom. Lowering her to the bed, he began to move again. Isaac pumped inside her slowly, rolling his talented hips with each thrust until she felt her limbs tightening once more.

He gripped her hip as he drove into her, his other hand coming to rest at the hollow below her throat. “This is my heart. You carry it inside you. Protect it.”

She nodded, love bursting through her fervently in a torrent. Gasping as Isaac's pace increased, his hips pistoning against hers, she wrapped her legs around him. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. Isaac slammed into her, holding her body steady as they crumpled into one another.

For a moment, they stared at each other, a hundred unspoken promises passing between them. Finally, Isaac rolled onto the bed and drew her trembling body against his. His hand came to rest on her belly and after a few minutes, when their breathing had returned to normal, he felt an airy rumble under his palm.

“Hungry?” He laughed.

“Famished,” she admitted.

“Let's order food,” he suggested, brushing the tip of his finger across her beautiful, swollen lower lip. “But this time let's eat it and then...”

“And then?” she prompted.

“Round two?”

Sofia thought about it for a moment before she pushed on top of him. Their bodies connected fluidly and she circled her hips, her nails sinking into his chest for leverage. “Screw breakfast.”

Chapter Eleven

Cameras flashed as Isaac exited the back of the limo. It was strange to be back in LA, which was unseasonably warm for May. Of course, maybe that was the tuxedo. Maybe someday a T-shirt and shorts would be acceptable on the red carpet. He tugged at his bow tie. Until that day...

But there was one perk to the formal expectations of film premieres. Extending his hand, he helped Fia from the car so she wouldn't catch her skirt. It didn't take X-ray glasses to know there was no way she had a damn thing on underneath the silk gown. Not a panty line in sight.

Fia hung back, letting him take the lead. It had taken hours of sweet-talk to convince her to escort him to the screening. He'd finally had to resort to using his sexpertise. She planned to stay out of the spotlight, but he wanted her by his side. Clasping her hand, he drew her closer until they were walking abreast.

The reaction was instantaneous. The swarms of reporters recognized her immediately. Through some miracle, they'd managed to wrap the film while staying off the radar. Videos and photos of their reunion in front of the hotel had circulated widely, but thanks to the rain no one had been able to definitively identify Fia. The cast and crew had instinctively protected their secret. Everyone, it seemed, liked a love story. The two had spent the past several months bouncing between work for the foundation Fia had helped him form and a private beach in Fiji.

But now the secret was out. Maybe that meant the honeymoon period of their courtship was over, but Isaac had no desire to hide his love.

“There went being able to go to the grocery store,” Fia grumbled good-naturedly, but she relaxed into him. She was a natural in front of the camera. Of course, she always had been.

“Fia!” A reporter from
Entertainment Today
thrust a microphone into her face. “Does this mean we'll be seeing you in movies again?”

Not bloody likely
, she thought. Instead, she smiled and shook her head. “I leave the bad guys and stunt work to Isaac.”

She didn't add that she'd had her fill of Hollywood drama for a lifetime. For the past few months, she'd found that her ability to spin stories to gain international attention could be put to a more satisfying use than cleaning up celebrity messes. The Isaac Blue Foundation actually stood a chance of changing the world, not just helping an actor land another film role. It was gratifying, which Fia had once thought was nothing more than hippie speak for not worth her time.

Not that either of them was interested in becoming hippies. She'd drawn a firm line on that when Isaac had suggested growing out his hair.

“Isaac, there's talk that your foundation will be short-listed for the Halsted Humanitarian Award, what inspired you to start it?”

“Our foundation,” Isaac corrected the reporter, wrapping an arm around Fia's trim waist for emphasis. “Obviously that's flattering, but it hardly matters to me.”

“What's your next project?” a girlish reporter shouted behind them and Fia winced. It was so easy to smell new blood in the water.

“Actually, I'm taking a break and devoting myself to full-time charity work. You'd have to check with a fortune-teller to find out what I'll do next because I don't know.” He flashed a wide smile.

Fia's fingernails dug into his arm, signaling it was time to go. As soon as they were away from the cameras, she whispered, “Were you going to share that bombshell with me?”

“I just decided,” he admitted as they made their way inside the theater. Most of the attendees were still outside working the crowd, but a few people were milling about. He grabbed her hand and ducked behind a curtain so they were out of sight. Pressing her against the wall, he pinned her hands to her side and trailed his lips down her jawline. “You're not my publicist tonight. Just my girlfriend.”

Fia swallowed back the moan threatening to spill past her lips. “Well, then,
if
your publicist were here, she would tell you that you can't just announce that you're taking a temporary retirement at a movie premiere.”

Isaac ignored her, continuing his descent down her throat. He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her neck as he released her hands. He had her where he liked her, but if she was really angry with him, she had the right to go.

Fia didn't move.

His hands slid along the silk skimming across her curves. Isaac brushed his thumbs over her nipples, smiling triumphantly as they pebbled under the thin gown.

“We already did it in the limo,” she reminded him, but her body arched toward him anyway.

“I'll never get enough of you.” He slipped a strap over her shoulder, but she caught it.

“If your publicist were here—”

He cut her off. “I don't care what my publicist thinks. What does my girlfriend think?”

“Isaac, I...”

“Don't analyze, Fia. I've never been happier than I have been the last few months. We have more money than we'll ever need. Can you think of a good reason not to take a break?” he asked, quickly tacking on, “I'm asking my girlfriend.”

“No,” she admitted. He was right, of course. All she wanted to do was leave, pack her bikini and fall off the face of the earth with him. “But you do love acting.”

“I didn't fake my own death. I just said I was going to take a break. I can always come back.” He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. “You can, too.”

“Don't push it, Blue.” But she laughed this time. “Now let's get back to this event that I had to come to before you ruin this dress.”

“But I've been looking forward to ruining this dress all night.”

“With your sudden retirement, we have all the time in the world,” she reminded him.

He caught her arm and led her back to the party. She was right after all.

* * * * *

About
the
Author

Geneva Lee is the
New York Times
and
USA TODAY
bestselling author of the Royals Saga. A hopeless romantic, Geneva prefers fantasy to reality, especially fantasies involving powerful, dangerous and sexy men. When she isn't writing, you can find her devouring a good book while avoiding the laundry. She recently returned to the Midwest with her family after a brief gig in Washington. For more books by Geneva, visit
genevalee.com
.

ISBN: 9780857994226

TITLE: TWO WEEK TURNAROUND

First Australian Publication 2015

Copyright © 2015 Geneva Lee

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