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“I’m not afraid of small spaces,” I said peevishly. “I’m afraid of being crushed to death. There’s a difference.”
“So you do like to swim?”
I hesitated. I didn’t like the question. It felt too close to an invitation. And if it was an invitation, I didn’t like how hard it would be to say no. I’d never be a scuba diver, but there was nothing more luxurious than swimming laps in an empty pool. “It depends,” I said finally and turned away from the subject at hand. To see that he’d laid out two bowls of risotto and two plates of scallops on the small, outdoor table. There was a pitcher of water between them.
“I’m eating before I look at the footage,” Julian said from behind me, amusement in his voice. “You can either join me, or you can starve. It’s up to you.”
I considered leaving, but it smelled so good. Besides, I rationalized, if Julian wanted to waste time and food on me, that was his problem.
It wouldn’t get him what he wanted.
14
JULIAN
Willow ate fast for someone who had sworn she wasn’t hungry. “There’s more in the kitchen,” I said when she’d finished. She only hesitated a second before standing up and taking her bowl in. When she came back, she had a glass of red wine.
“I’m off the clock now,” she said, giving me a challenging look. like I hadn’t offered her wine in the first place.
“I don’t know. I still haven’t looked at the footage,” I reminded her, more to see the sparks leap into her eyes than anything else. It was hard not to smile at her familiar scowl. She mellowed, though, as the food hit her stomach. I could almost feel the tight wire of tension in her body easing.
“I can make more,” I said when she finished her second bowl.
Willow shook her head and frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re hungry, Laurier. Don’t read anything into it.” I stood up, the question weighing on me uncomfortably. Why did I have this urge to take care of her? It wasn’t like me, and I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. There had been a hesitation before she handed me the USB stick, a strange, regretful look on her face that I couldn’t figure out. And yet...
“I’m full.” Willow trailed into the kitchen after me, carrying her dishes and half empty wine glass. “But…thank you.”
I turned to see another look on her face that I couldn’t read. She had a whole repertoire of them. I got the feeling I’d surprised her, though I didn’t know how.
“You’re welcome.” I took the bowl out of her hand and placed it in the sink to deal with later. When I looked up, she hadn’t moved away. She was twisting the wine glass between her hands, a wrinkle between her brows like she was trying to figure me out.
An echo of the jolt went through me.
“You should go,” I said abruptly.
Her berry-red lips parted in surprise. “I should, but what about the footage?”
“It was all bullshit, Laurier. I just wanted to keep you here longer, but…” I scrubbed my hand through my hair, suddenly pissed at myself. “Look, I’m sorry. I told you I’d wait for you to come to me, but when you didn’t, I made you.”
Willow didn’t look a bit surprised. “I know,” she said slowly, “but I didn’t expect you to admit it.”
That dug under my skin. Why did she have so many fucking expectations about me one way or another? “I’m not the devil you seem to think I am,” I bit off.
She shook her head and stepped closer. “Not a devil, Julian. Just…entitled. Men like you think the whole world revolves around them. You treat people like objects. You do whatever you want and leave the consequences for others. You–”
Willow’s voice was almost pitying, like she was breaking bad news. She was looking at me as she spoke, but I had the feeling she was seeing someone else. Frustration fueled my irritation. Even if she looked at me with disgust, even if she looked at me with loathing, I wanted her to seeme. “You don’t know who I am, Laurier. You don’t know me any better than I know you. The difference is, one of us is trying.”
“Oh, is that what you’re trying to do? Get to know me?” Willow challenged. “So you do this for all the production assistants? Not just the ones you want to fuck around with?”
“I don’t fuck around with production assistants as a rule,” I snapped.
“Oh yeah? Then what am I?”
She was an enigma. I couldn’t figure her out. She gave zero fucks. Fearless and unexpectedly vulnerable. Beautiful and thorny. Even now, she was smug and weary at the same time. Like I’d disappointed her when she hadn’t even given me the chance to. And she was standing only inches away.
“You’re the exception,” I muttered, my control fracturing. I took the wine glass out of her hand and set it on the counter, then pulled her toward me. Slowly, deliberately, giving her a chance to pull back. Her eyes narrowed in challenge, but she didn’t pull away. I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against me, and slid my hand through her hair, anchoring my fingers in its silky softness. “Kiss me, Laurier.”
