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Authors: Tabitha A Lane

Trade (13 page)

BOOK: Trade
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There was a movement from the bed.
William Goode opened his eyes. “Maxie, is that you?”

*****

The last couple of days on the island were a study in
frustration. The sort of frustration that John Weatherly must have felt once he
realized there was nothing he could do but wait. Sholto went through the
motions of everyday survival, his body was present but his mind was elsewhere.

Max had probably meant to leave
the satellite phone for him, but in the rush she’d taken it with her so he didn’t
even have any way of checking on her father’s condition.

By the time Adam arrived two days
later and blared the airhorn, Sholto was packed up and waiting for him on the
shore.

“Is there any news from Miss Max?”

Adam shook his head.

He climbed into the boat and cast
a last look at Melati. The island had changed him. On a silent beach, in tune
with nature, he’d chipped away the veneer covering him and got in touch with
his soul. And more than that, he’d found Max. The real Max. Under normal
circumstances, he’d feel regret at leaving this little patch of paradise, but
not today. The moment Max left the island she took part of him with her.

He didn’t even feel excitement at
the prospect of auditioning for Jasper Watson. It was just something he had to
do before he could pick up the telephone and dial Max.

The trip back to the pier seemed
to take forever. Once his feet were on dry land he shook Adam’s hand and
thanked him. “I’ll call your company and leave a message to let you know how
Miss Max’s father is.”

Adam grinned. “Maybe I’ll take you
back to the island someday.”

“Maybe.” He thumped Adam on the
arm. “Thanks again for the lift.”

It was only when he entered the
hotel that Sholto became aware of his appearance. A couple of older ladies in
reception looked at him as though he was some creature that had crawled from
underneath a stone. Security started towards him as he approached the reception
desk, but stilled at a gesture from the man behind the desk.

“Mr. Kincaid.” The receptionist
didn’t bat an eye at his appearance. “Good to see you again, Sir. We have
transferred your possessions into your room, and it’s ready for you now.” He
palmed a key from the mahogany cubbyholes behind him and slid it across the
desk. “Mr. Watson and his colleagues arrived an hour ago and are waiting for
you in conference room one. Shall I tell them you will join them after you have
freshened up?”

Sholto checked the brass name
badge fastened onto the elegant gentleman’s claret jacket. “Thank you, Michael.”
He picked up the key. “But I think I’ll go straight into the meeting. Can you
direct me to conference room one?”

He was used to stares. From women in
particular. But any looks his direction today were those of distaste. He almost
felt as though he should stop by every outraged matron and apologize for
walking through such a beautiful hotel in his state. But it was evident he hadn’t
been recognized, except by Michael, who had seen him leave this very hotel nine
days earlier.

Michael stopped outside heavy,
mahogany double doors. “Conference room one, Mr. Kincaid.”

Sholto’s hand went automatically
to his pocket before he remembered he didn’t have his wallet. He shrugged. “Thanks,
Michael.” He shoved open the door and walked in.

Three men turned. Jasper Watson
frowned. “I’m sorry, may I help you?” Even though he had been expecting Sholto
any minute there was no recognition in his eyes. After a quick glance the other
two looked everywhere but at him. It was as if a vagrant had somehow wandered
into the hotel and they were considering calling security.

Sholto suppressed a grin and the
urge to punch the air in triumph.

He walked up to Jasper, marveling
that even at close quarters the director didn’t seem to realize who he was. “Hello,
Jasper. I’m here for my audition.”

Chapter Fourteen

 

Max wasn’t answering her phone, so he left a message. “I’m
back in the hotel. Call me.” There was so much more he wanted to say. How he
hoped her father was recovering. How he longed to hear her voice; how he missed
her. He’d barely slept the night before without her body next to his.

But leaving all that on a
voicemail didn’t appeal.

He scrolled through his contacts,
and chose another number.

“Larry? I’m back.” Sholto lay on
his back on what must be the most comfortable bed in the world wrapped in a
fluffy white hotel robe. Straight after the audition he’d taken a long, hot
shower, then placed an order with room service.

“You’re alive. Thank God. So, when’s
the audition?”

There was a tap at the door. “Hang
on a second, my food’s just arrived.” He dropped the cell phone onto the bed
and hurried to open the door. A bellboy wheeled in a trolley full of dishes
covered with silver domes. Sholto took a note from his wallet and pressed it
into the bellboy’s hand. Then he took the pint of beer from the tray and sat
back on the bed again.

He savored a long swallow, and
picked up the phone again. “I’ve already done it, mate.”

Silence for a minute, then Larry
asked, “Well? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

“I’m pretty sure I nailed it.
Watson wants a meet in LA at the end of the week.” Smiling at the memory, he swallowed
another mouthful. “I walked into the audition straight from the island—shaggy
beard and all. None of them recognized me.”

“That’s fucking brilliant.” Larry’s
voice was full of admiration. “I knew you could do it.”

It would be an asshole move to
remind Larry that he had not thought so, but he let that lie.

“I’ve organized a flight out for
you tomorrow. There are a load of interviews for
After Ecstasy
set up.”

It would be satisfying to tell
Larry to take a hike, and jump off the promo bandwagon to go see Max, but after
spending nine days out of action there was no way to take off so soon. And the
role in
Solo
wasn’t his yet, he had to follow up and make that meeting.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” His
stomach growled. “I have to go.” He walked to the trolley and took off the
largest dome. “The biggest steak you’ve ever seen in your life needs my
attention.”

“I’ll meet you off the plane.”

Sholto terminated the call and
tossed his cell phone onto the bed. Food. Drink. Sleep. The basics of survival.
The only other thing he needed was Max.

Hours later, he jerked awake. His
muscles were tense and adrenaline flooded his system, making him instantly
alert. For a split-second he was disorientated. Then a sound broke through the
silence, the same sound that must have woken him from sleep.

His cell phone.

He patted the covers. Shoved back
the light blanket covering him, and spotted a bright rectangle of light.
Snatching it up, he answered.

“Hey, did I wake you?” Max’s soft
voice.

He lay back on the pillows. “Yeah,
but I’m glad you did. How’s your father?” He held his breath, hoping to hell
the old guy wasn’t dead.

“He’s alive.”

He breathed out.

“It was a big heart attack, but he’s
strong. He’s still in hospital, but they’re sending him home in a couple of
days. He’ll have to take it easy for a few weeks, but the doctors say he should
be okay. I’m staying at the house, but I’m headed back to my apartment
tomorrow. I’ve had just about enough of
happy families
.” The words were
laced with bitterness and sarcasm.

“Your mother giving you a hard
time?”

“My sister Caroline. Jesus, I have
no idea why she’s such a bitch.” She changed the subject. “Enough about me. How
did the meeting with Jasper go?”

“It was good. I walked straight in
from the boat. I didn’t even check my appearance in a mirror, but I must have
looked the part, they didn’t recognize me.”

“That’s great. So, did he give you
the role?”

“Not yet, but it looks hopeful. I
have to meet him at the end of the week.”

“In London?”

If it were London they could be
together. He’d only been without her for a few days, but his body ached as
though they’d been parted for weeks. “Unfortunately not. I have to go back to
the States tomorrow. Can you fly out? I’ll organize a ticket.”

“I can’t. I haven’t even visited
the office yet. And we have a really complicated assignment next week—a wedding
in a cable car in the Italian Alps. My assistant has arranged a lot of the
logistics, but I have to be there.”

The reality of a real life
relationship, a long-distance real life relationship, filled him with
frustration. “I have to do press for
After Ecstasy
next week, otherwise
I’d fly out and join you in Italy. When the hell am I going to see you?”

“You’ll be in London at the end of
the month, right? For the reunion?”

The school reunion.
The one
he’d agreed to attend as her client’s trophy boyfriend. The trade that had
seemed so logical barely more than a week ago now set his teeth on edge. He was
being paraded, sold, to one of her clients for the night. He half expected her
to call off the deal, to say she didn’t want to share him with some nameless
socialite—to bare jealous teeth at the thought of another woman clinging to his
arm and giving him a fuck-me smile.

She didn’t.

“Yeah, of course.” If she didn’t
give a fuck, why should he? “Send me the details, and I’ll be there.”

“You can’t make it to London
before then?” Her husky voice made him hard.

Punishing her would mean punishing
himself, and even though it had only been days the need to hold her, taste her,
fuck her senseless, was too strong to resist. “I’ll do what I have to do next
week and fly out the week after. Clear your fucking calendar.”

“My
fucking
calendar?” she
teased. “A calendar to mark in when I’m fucking?”

“If you organize a limo, and pick
me up from the airport, we can start on the drive home.”

Her shaky breath was barely
audible. “Tell me.”

Sholto ran a hand over his hard
cock. “You’ll be wearing a floaty dress with nothing underneath it. Not sheer,
I don’t want the driver looking at your body. We’ll climb into the back seat,
and slide up the privacy screen. I’ll be as ready for you as I am now.”

“I’m in my mother’s kitchen, and
the door is open,” she whispered.

“Close the door.”

He heard her put down the phone.
Moments later she picked it up again. “Okay. Done.”

He closed his eyes. “You’ll unzip
my jeans and free me, then climb onto my lap. I’ll slide the straps off your
shoulders, and suck your nipple into my mouth. I might bite you a little, but
you’ll like it. With nothing between us, your wet heat will slide over my hard
cock.”

She made a sound, half-sigh,
half-groan, one so familiar he could almost scent her in the room. “Touch
yourself. Are you wet thinking about me?”

“Yes.” Her breathing sounded
faster. “God, I wish you were here with me right now.”

“I’m holding my cock and imagining
you stroking me.”

“Imagine this.”

He held his breath.

“I’m on my knees before you. One
of my hands is cupping your balls, and the other is stroking up your big, hard
cock.”

The mental picture conjured up by
her words was so strong, it was a good thing he was lying down because
otherwise he’d sure as fuck need to.

“I’m circling the tip of your cock
with my tongue. Now, I’m opening my mouth and taking you in as deep as I can, I’m
licking you, I’m sucking you. Your hands are in my hair, holding me steady.”

“This is supposed to be my
fantasy, my limo trip fantasy.” He smiled. “But keep going.”

*****

The doorbell rang. Max swiped wet hair back from her face,
and reluctantly rotated the shower dial to Off. Their regular pizza delivery
was here, and Cam would get the door, so she took her time drying herself and
dressing in sweats.

She combed her hair, and draped a
towel over her shoulders. Melati had given her an appreciation of things she’d
taken for granted her entire life: hot, clean water on demand and the ability
to stand beneath a stream of it, washing the day’s grime off with expensive,
scented soap no longer felt like an ordinary everyday basic, but instead a
miraculous luxury.

As did the ability to have food
delivered rather than having to catch it.

She opened the bathroom door,
glanced around the sitting room, and stopped, listening. The murmur of
conversation was barely audible at the door.
Is the caller not the pizza
delivery guy?

She padded across the floor, but
before she got there, she heard the door close and saw Cam standing there with
a pizza box in her hands, and a weird expression on her face.

“You were a while. Was there a
problem?”

Cam went pink. “We were just
talking.”

“You and the pizza guy?”

“His name’s Drew.” Cam carried the
box to the coffee table. “He asked for my phone number.”

Max poured a couple of glasses of
wine from the open bottle. “He…”

“I was here last week while you
were away, you remember you left one of the client files here, and I needed it?”

Max nodded.

“Well, I ordered pizza, and Drew
delivered it.”

“Was that all he delivered?” Max
teased. Her eyes widened at the look on Cam’s face. “You didn’t—”

“We just talked. He said he liked
my hair and told me delivering pizza to me was the highlight of his day.” She
took out a slice and placed it on a plate. “I thought he was joking, so I
laughed it off and said it was the highlight of my day too. But it appears he
was serious. He wants me to go out with him tomorrow night.”

“Are you going?” Drew was
gorgeous, no mistake. But he couldn’t be any more than twenty-five, and the
fact he delivered pizza for a living meant the difference in their incomes
could ultimately be a problem.

“Yes. I am.” Cam took a bite of
her pizza and chewed. “I know he’s younger, but I really like the guy. He’s
more than meets the eye. Did you know he’s part-owner of the pizza business?”

“I had no idea.” Max glanced at
the box with
The Jacobs Brothers Pizza
emblazoned on its top. “He’s one
of the Jacobs Brothers?”

“There are three of them, and they’re
opening two new places next week. At the beginning they all did pizza delivery
as market research to know exactly how the business worked, but now they have a
team of delivery guys.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Drew confessed that for
the last three months he’s only delivered to one customer.”

“Me?”

“Well,
here
. He said he’s
wanted to ask me out for months. The restaurant calls him every time we order a
pizza and he dashes in to do the delivery. But with the expansion of the
business he’ll be away a lot more, setting up the new restaurants, so he had to
take action. Tonight’s the last time he’ll be delivering our pizza.”

Max picked up her glass and drank.
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. I can’t really believe
it. Tonight I told him I have a daughter, and even that didn’t seem to faze
him.” She reached into the box again. “I’m scared shitless at the thought of
dating again, but the guy is hot as hell and an awesome hunter-gatherer, so I
have to give it a shot.”

“And he has a crush on you. He’s
stayed in every Friday night waiting for the chance to spend a couple of
minutes flirting with you at the front door.” Max refilled their glasses and
chinked hers against Cam’s. “Here’s to Drew delivering more than pizza.”

Cam rearranged the cushions and
got comfortable in the large armchair. “I think the fantasy we made happen
today is my favorite so far. I just keep thinking of how those people are going
to feel when they find out their mortgages have been paid.”

Max silently agreed. Their most
recent client was an amazing guy who’d won the lottery and decided his fantasy
was to improve the lives of his best friends and closest family. He wanted his
win to remain secret, and didn’t want gratitude so he’d employed F.M.R. to act as
fairy godmothers, sprinkling money around like fairy dust. “I’ve never met
anyone so selfless. He paid off his debts and kept a hundred grand and gave
away what, four million?”

“He told me his fantasy was making
people happy,” Cam said. “It’s amazing he doesn’t want anyone to know where the
money came from. He’s the only client we’ve had whose fantasy doesn’t involve
their own self-gratification, do you realize that? I’d begun to think that
everyone was just in it for themselves, but our client today renewed my faith
in human nature.”

Max’s cell phone buzzed with a
text. She checked it, and tapped a message back.

“Is that Sholto?”

“Yes.” He called her every night,
and she texted him throughout the day, avoiding the hours when either of them
might be sleeping. “He’s flying over in ten days.”

“His schedule is crazy.” Cam
grimaced. “A long distance relationship seems to be hard work.”

“It’s hardly a relationship at
this stage. We spend more time apart than together.” Max shrugged. “I don’t
know if we can make it work in the long term, but I want to try. I miss him
like crazy.”

“I know you do. When you’re not
texting him, you’re thinking of him, I can tell by that faraway look in your
eyes.” Cam filled their glasses again. “You’ve got it bad.”

Last night he’d told her the part
in
Solo
was his, and that they’d start filming in three months. Now they
were back in their regular lives, it seemed impossible to be together in the
same place at the same time. Work was so busy, she couldn’t brush it off and
escape to the other side of the world, and his life was sucking him back in
too. But she wasn’t ready to let him go. Wasn’t ready to give up. “He’ll be
here in ten days. I can’t think further forward than that.”

BOOK: Trade
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