Page 80 of One to Watch

“Why did you agree to do this show?” he demanded. “You work in an industry where publicity is valuable, like mine—was this a factor in your decision?”

“Of course it was.” She exhaled. There was no use in lying to him, even if she did feel like a hypocrite.

“So?” he pressed. “What am I to think? Are you leading me on, pretending to fall in love with me so your audience will fall in love with you?”

“That’s not the same!” Bea protested.

“What is different? You think I would pretend to have feelings for you because I am some kind of liar, but you would never do the same to me?”

“I had twenty-five men here, Luc. Why would I single you out and pretend to be interested in you?”

“Perhaps because, for our first week together, I was the only one showing interest in you.”

The remark hit Bea in the gut—that awful first night, the catastrophic afternoon on the boat, and Luc, out of everyone, taking time to make her feel beautiful. She didn’t feel beautiful now.

“Maybe the fact that you wanted me from the beginning is the reason I don’t trust you.”

Luc looked genuinely confused. “Why would you say this?”

“Because it makes it seem like you have an agenda! You have a lot to gain by being here, and more to gain the longer you stay. You’re one of the most attractive men on this show, one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. I don’t date men who look like you, and I can only presume you don’t date women who look like me. So what am I supposed to think, Luc? That you’re some perfect prince come to rescue me from my nightmare of a love life? Or that you came here with a goal, and you didn’t waste any time setting out to achieve it?”

“Is that what you thought when you met me?” he asked quietly. “Is it what you thought the first time I kissed you?”

“I thought you were playing me.” Bea shrugged. “Maybe I was right.”

“And you think this because you believe I cannot be attracted to you. This is how you see yourself?”

Bea wanted to speak, but tears threatened. “It’s how men like you see me,” she choked out, and Luc’s face crumpled, his anger suddenly gone.

“I understand, I understand,” he murmured, pulling her close. “You are not so tough after all, my Bea.”

“Who ever said I was tough?” she joked, burying her face in his chest.

“I think you are beautiful,” he whispered. “Your face, your body, your laugh. Can you believe this?”

Bea looked up at him, trying to read his face. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm. I think perhaps this is good news for me.”

Bea frowned. “How so?”

“Because this means I will have to prove how much I want you.”

He rested the pads of his fingers lightly on her cheekbones, gently circling the contours of her face. The gesture was so small, so intimate, that Bea felt shaky—she closed her eyes. He leaned down to kiss her, and with no cameras, no makeup (hell, no bra), it felt like something honest and apart from the artifice of the show, like instead of a luxury riad in Morocco, they could be in his apartment in New York, or her place in L.A. Everything was slow, languid; none of it felt urgent or performed. He kissed her for a long time, and then he held her, still standing, breathing slowly.

“I’m glad you came over,” she whispered.

He smiled and kissed the crown of her head. “So am I.”

TEXT MESSAGE TRANSCRIPT, MARCH 27: MAIN SQUEEZE PRODUCER THREAD

Shareeza [6:38am]: Is Bea finished in wardrobe yet? We’re supposed to load out in ten

Mike [6:38am]: She is DRAGGING this morning, she’s so tired and cranky and everything’s taking forever

Mike [6:39am]: Which makes no sense, didn’t we wrap her early last night?

Jeannie [6:39am]: One of the PAs ran into Luc in the hall at 4am