Page 22 of Hate To Be Mine

“You okay?” Annika asked gently.

“I’m fine.” If I said it another fifty times, maybe it would come true.

“Why don’t you get settled, maybe take a shower?” she suggested. “We’re supposed to have a welcome dinner in about two hours.”

“That sounds good. Thank you again.”

“Stop thanking me. We’re roommates now. Partners in crime.” She winked and left me alone.

I sat on the bed and looked around the cramped room filled with makeup cases and garment bags. Through the window, I could see palm fronds swaying in the breeze. From somewhere nearby, I heard laughter—probably some of the crew already enjoying the resort’s amenities.

This wasn’t how this trip was supposed to go. I was supposed to have my own space, my own sanctuary to retreat to at the end of the day. I knew I was going to need it after spending long days with Sebastian and his chaos. Instead, I was crammed into a makeshift storage closet, dependent on the kindness of someone I barely knew.

I pulled out my phone to text my father about the reservation screwup, then stopped. What was the point? He’d just tell me to figure it out myself. That’s what he always did.

And I would figure it out. I would be fine.

As always.

9

SEBASTIAN

Istood outside one of the converted storage rooms, watching two guys from the lighting crew maneuver a massive light stand through the doorway. They were both trying to lead, which meant they were just banging the equipment against the doorframe repeatedly.

“Left!” one shouted.

“That is my left!”

“Your other left!”

I was about to intervene when they finally figured it out and got the stand through without breaking anything. I probably should have brought backup equipment. We hadn’t even started the damn shoot and we were already banging equipment around.

The resort had given us access to three rooms in the main building to use as equipment storage and staging areas. It was better than keeping everything scattered across individual bungalows, but it meant a lot of coordinated movement of very expensive, very fragile gear. Every scratched lens or broken light was money down the drain.

I checked my phone for the thousandth time, confirming everyone had their room assignments and knew where they were supposed to be for tomorrow’s call time. The first shoot was scheduled bright and early assuming the weather cooperated. Golden hour light, perfect beach conditions for a beach shoot.

My mind drifted back to Bernadette. Her face when she’d realized she didn’t have a room. For a second, she’d looked genuinely lost, all that armor cracking just enough to show the person underneath. Then she’d snapped back into defensive mode the moment I’d approached.

I was glad I’d gotten her settled with Annika. It was the right thing to do. It was also not what I’d originally been planning to suggest.

When I’d heard her predicament, my first instinct had been to offer her my suite. I had a two-bedroom setup—one of the perks of being in charge—and the second bedroom had its own bathroom and everything. It would have been the logical solution. The gentlemanly solution.

And because I was a man that happened to appreciate a beautiful woman, if she happened to end up in my bed, would that be so bad?

But the second I’d opened my mouth, she’d gone nuclear on me. I’d pivoted so fast I probably left skid marks. Thank God.

I had been two seconds away from screwing everything up. You don’t proposition the insurance rep. You especially don’t proposition the insurance rep who already thinks you’re an irresponsible playboy who can’t be trusted around anything female.

The thing was, I wasn’t used to hot women who called me on my shit. Most of them either laughed at my jokes or pretended to. I rarely met a woman that didn’t want to sleep with me or who was at least flattered by the attention. Bernadette looked at me like I was an obnoxious insect she was considering squashing.

And somehow, that was working for me. Like really worked for me. I had felt my cock stir to life and had been a little surprised by the instant arousal just from her yelling at me. Was I into that? Did I like that dominatrix thing?

I’d never really thought about it before. The women I usually went for were… easier. More agreeable. They purred. Bernadette roared. But the louder the roar, the louder the purr. And I wouldn’t mind her roaring in my bed.

There was something about Bernadette. She presented as a cold chick ready to drive her heel into my crotch, but I had seen a glimpse of that soft side. I bet I could make her forget all that uptight nonsense.

Put a pin in that. You’ve got a job to do. Maybe you dig the pantsuit, maybe you don’t. Either way, focus on the work.