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She crossed her arms and tilted her head back to meet his eyes dead-on. “I would think you get enough sycophantic behavior from others.”
His lips quirked. “Touché.”
“Give me a second to put my clothes on and I’ll be ready to go.” The bikini covered less than most of her undergarments and no way was she riding back to her hotel clad in it, or even the robe he’d found somewhere for her.
“No problem.”
It didn’t take her long to change into the short white crocheted Lilly Pulitzer dress and flat silver sandals she’d worn on arrival to the shoot. Even fully lined, the dress was comfortably lightweight for the intense Spanish summer heat. She ran a brush through her shoulder-length, professionally highlighted hair and smeared some clear gloss onto her chapping lips. Miguel had been right about one thing. It had been a very hot shoot.
Grabbing her bag, she went to join him. She hurried and marveled at the feeling like she needed to do so.She wanted to be with him. It was a heady and nerve-racking sensation. Her mom had warned her it could happen like this, but Amber had always thought she was immune. She’d never been in love and frankly, considering the way her mom still grieved the loss of her dad before she was ever born, she didn’t crave the intense emotion, either.
She’d always been happy. Content. She had a super demanding career which she adored. A couple of good friends, though she saw them infrequently. One was a fellow model and the other she’d met at college. She and her mom were close.
She dated, albeit rarely, but she didn’t need a man in her life. He would just mess things up. Particularly a man like Miguel. He would expect her to make concessions for him. Would he reciprocate, though?
She tried to convince herself sh
e was getting ahead of herself, but deep down inside, she knew she wasn’t. This man spelled trouble in her life in capital letters. So, why was she rushing to meet him?
Because like he’d said…some risks were worth the trouble.
He drove a black Ferrari like he’d taken training with the Andretti family. And yet she never felt at risk, never felt like he drove recklessly. Just very fast and with tons of confidence.
In fact, she kind of liked it. For a woman who never drove over the speed limit herself and actually drove as little as possible, but when she did…it was always very cautiously—it was an odd sort of pleasure. But it was indisputably pleasure nevertheless.
“So, have you enjoyed your time in Barcelona?” he asked as he shifted gears.
“Yes. I haven’t done a lot of international travel, so it’s been something of a perk doing this shoot.”
“It is one of your bigger campaigns, yes?”
“Did you do your homework while I was busy posing for the camera?”
“I made a phone call or two.”
That didn’t surprise her. “And what did you find out?”
“Enough.”
She turned in her seat to face him. “What does that mean?”
“I am very attracted to you.”
“I got that impression.”
“I have to be careful of the women I date.”
“Are you saying you had a quick rundown on my character investigated?”
“In essence, yes.”
“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been investigated by a potential date before.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“It was hardly a major investigation.”
“How could it be? Your investigator only had a couple of hours.”
His long brown fingers curled around the steering wheel like they were an extension of it. “He had long enough to determine that you don’t make it a habit to date wealthy men and file lawsuits for support after. In point of fact, he saw little evidence of you dating at all.”
