Page 27 of Vienna Betrayal

“Alena, how do you feel?” The soft question came from close by, surprising her.

Raising her head, she propped herself up on her elbows, her belly still on the floor in a modified cobra pose.

Alexander was seated cross-legged with his back against the wall. He held a large water bottle in one hand, a folded towel in the other.

“I’m wonderful.” She tried to smile, the sort of knowing wink-and-a-nudge smile that would put them back on equal footing now that the scene was over.

“I asked you not to lie.”

Apparently she hadn’t been successful. “I didn’t lie in the scene,” she countered. “Outside of the scene you don’t have the right to ask me that. The world keeps turning because of all the little lies we tell.”

Her lies were rarely little. God knew this one wasn’t.

“I prefer the truth.” He paused, but after a long moment spoke again. “If anything is hurting in a way it shouldn’t, you will tell me.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?” Alena rose up onto her hands and knees, then froze, realizing that she really didn’t want to sit on her aching ass. Kneeling here with her tits hanging down also wasn’t a good option.

Alexander snorted in amusement, and then he smiled. Oh that smile was bad, bad news.

He picked up the towel and unfolded it with a snap. Rather than looped terrycloth, this massive bath sheet was a Turkish-style weave. He draped it across his lap and chest.

Alexander’s gold-green eyes were focused on her face, pointedly not looking at her naked body. There was something old-fashioned about it—chivalrous. He wouldn’t look at her nakedness now that the scene was over.

“Let me hold you.”

Alena’s heart lurched in her chest, and her head shot up. She stared at him, unable to think past the knot of feelings that seemed to have scrambled her brain.

“If you would prefer not?” One brow went up, but she thought there was a bit of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d like that.” It wasn’t a lie.

Tentatively, Alena crawled onto his lap, twisting so that she minimized her ass’s contact with his hard legs. Her forehead fit perfectly against the side of his neck.

He wrapped the edges of the towel over her, enfolding her while his body heat warmed her side. She could feel his heartbeat in his neck where their skin touched. His heart was beating fast.

Because of her? Because he was holding her?

“I didn’t think you’d be a cuddler,” she murmured.

“Not always.”

“Uh oh, you’re reverting.”

“To?”

“The quiet man. You talked to me during the scene, why not now?”

He inhaled, his chest rising and lifting her with it, then blew out a long, slow breath. “You were quiet towards the end. I think that is not your natural state.”

Alena huffed out a laugh. “No, it’s not. I wonder which one is the real us? Us now, or us in the middle of a scene?”

She used the term “us” deliberately, a psychological trick that would cause him to think of them together.

And she hated herself for the manipulation, however small it might be.

Get over it, you fool.

“You need water.” Alexander cracked the cap of a water bottle and offered it. She thrust one arm out from under the covering and took it. The moment it touched her lips she realized she was parched, and downed half of the large bottle in a matter of minutes.

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