Page 88 of Pink

Gigi kept a tight hold on the edge of the door, refusing to move even an inch in the doorway lest this man think she was inviting him inside. “If you went through the trouble of getting up here to see me today, why didn’t you just have a call put through to my room?”

Jensen shrugged, his dark eyes raking over her body and lingering on the low dip of the flowy dress at her chest. She had the strangest urge to fix the delicate, loose material so that it covered her a little better, but she held back. Her body had been put on display more times than she cared to count in a variety of different ways—she wasn’t ashamed of her curves or her freckled skin or the way she looked naked in front of the camera. In fact, she kind of loved it. If anything, it taught her how to love herself and she owned that shit.

This man, though?

She didn’t want him looking at her at all. Because he did it in such a way that made her feel like he was appraising her. Not appreciating. Simply appraising.

“I was going to do that,” he said, wagging a finger at her and grinning, “but then you had a little issue this week, didn’t you? The magazine articles, I mean.”

Gigi cleared her throat but kept her gaze locked on the man still trying to get a peek over her shoulder. “The lies, yes. What about them? Why would that stop you from calling instead of just showing up like this?”

“It is, then?”

“Pardon?”

“Lies. You have no connection to Andino Marcello’s enforcer … no secret love child you’ve kept hidden for the better part of a half of a decade?”

His chuckles and playful expression said he was just making light of the situation, but the sharp way he surveyed her face as he laid out the recent crap from the tabloids told her something else, too. He was fishing for something. What, she didn’t know.

Jensen didn’t actually wait for Gigi to reply to his question, and instead, he barreled right ahead with, “They did have pictures of the two of you, though. See, that’s why I didn’t call. I was hoping we might have another lunch … or you might let me take you out to do something before you get too busy with what you have coming up. But if you’re involved with—”

“I’m not in a place to be dating at all,” Gigi said, carefully choosing each word she spoke. “I met up with someone I didn’t know at a bar and look at what happened. I really can’t afford that kind of attention right now with Fashion Week coming up. I would rather every interview I do leading up to my walk is more focused on the designer I’ll be wearing and less on who is in my bed at night. If you understand, I mean.”

Another dry laugh left the man. “Of course. “

“I’m sorry.” Taking one step back into the hotel, Gigi started to close the door, telling Jensen at the same time, “And I’m sure my agent would be happy to deal with anything else you need—she did handle all of that the first time around, right?”

Jensen tipped his chin up, cocking a brow. Clearly, her subtle shot wasn’t missed by the man. “She did; even if it didn’t work out entirely well.”

“Yeah, well, that happens some—”

Ding.

Gigi was too far back in the doorway to see who came out of the elevator when it dinged to say the doors had opened to the floor. Jensen, on the other hand, glanced to the side and just like that, it was as if a blank sheet had fallen over his features, giving nothing away. No recognition, emotion, or otherwise. Footsteps approached from down the hallway, but the man still standing in her doorway simply turned back to her with a smile.

“I guess you were expecting to be busy, hmm?” Jensen nodded her way once and then turned in the same direction of the approaching footsteps like he might leave. “I’ll be seeing you, Gigi Rey.”

She opened her mouth to say no, he wouldn’t. Lev passed the man at the same time, keeping her quiet as she watched the two men stare each other down before the one she had been expecting finally looked her way. Without a word, Gigi stepped back from the door and let Lev pass her by to enter the hotel suite.

Jensen only smiled.

She closed the door knowing … this wasn’t over.

• • •

“What was he doing here?”

“What?” Gigi asked while she dug through the mini-fridge stocked with her favorite vitamin water.

“Jensen Todrey,” Lev said, stressing the man’s name like it was shit in his mouth. “What the fuck was he doing here?”

Cracking open the cold bottle, Gigi turned to face the man who was still standing near the closed door instead of further inside the hotel room. As if he might need to go back out there and handle something.

Why did she like that idea?

Not the time, Gi.

Right.