“You alright?”
“Just nervous about pulling it off,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.
“You’re stunning, habiba,” he said, brushing his nose gently along the curve of her neck. “You’ll kill it out there.”
“It’s not that.”
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her.
“We’ll have to kiss,” he asked. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yes,” she replied too quickly. Then cleared her throat. “I mean... yes. But I’m nervous.”
Ilias didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped in closer and gently took her chin between his fingers. His gaze flicked to her lips for a split second, and then he kissed her.
No hesitation. No warm-up. Just mouth on mouth.
Her lips parted for him instinctively, like it was second nature. His tongue slid in to meet hers, stroking like he ownedher. Her hand shot up into his freshly cut curls, threading through them as she pulled him impossibly closer.
His hands gripped her waist, tight. Their hips met, pressed together, andjoder, he was hard for her.
Her body lit up like a live wire. There was nothing fake about the way he kissed her. Nothing fake about how he moved, how he tasted, how he felt against her. It was fire and salt and sun and lust wrapped up in a kiss that was definitely not written into the PR contract.
And then, just as suddenly, it ended.
He pulled back with maddening ease, lips swollen, eyes dark with amusement.
“We needed that,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Takes the edge off.”
Then he winked, and walked out of the room, headed to the changing area.
Leaving her standing there, breathless.
Ruined. And so incredibly not ready to fake anything.
28
ILIAS
Zina - Babylone
Maybe he had oversteppedwith that kiss. But if kissing made her nervous, then yeah, it was necessary. Better to take the edge off now than to fumble in front of the camera.
What he hadn’t been prepared for was Sofia stepping out of her robe on the catamaran that had brought them to Kings Beach.
He lost the capacity to breathe.
She wore a white TerraVive one-piece swimsuit that hugged her tanned skin like it had been painted on. Her hair, long, wavy, ocean-tousled, cascaded down her back like she’d stepped out of some ancient sea myth. If she’d started singing and luring him into the depths, he’d follow without hesitation.
“Okay, guys,” Jamie called. “Cozy up. Walk hand-in-hand with your boards in the other arm.”
“I don’t do shortboards,” Sofia muttered, frowning at the board she was handed.
“But it looks better,” Jamie said, shutting down the protest before it could begin.
Sofia shot him a face that made Ilias chuckle.
