Page 135 of Bishop's Queen

Bishop let his eyes drift down and back up, and it would have been a total lie to say she didn’t feel every inch of his inspection.

God, she hated this feeling. Hated the distance between them, figuratively and literally.

“Ella Leighton,” a man called from down the hall. “Lights, camera, action!”

She jumped, spinning toward the man’s voice and almost killing herself in the shoes-and-skirt combo while making that move.

A young man came swiftly down the hall. He was dressed in black, wearing a headset attached to two electronic packs on his waist, and carrying a clipboard. “Your turn. Let’s go, my dear. If you need anything, say it now or forever hold your peace.”

Her stomach catapulted as he breezed past them, motioning for her to follow. She didn’t need anything. “I’m great. I got the card. The bracelet—”

“Little faster, honey,” he called over his shoulder.

“You’re good, Ella. You walk as fast as you want,” Bishop countered protectively.

The man ahead laughed. “Sure, whatever security says. Or you can listen to me. We’re live on TV.”

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