Page 68 of Enemies Off Camera
“But it does matter. I want you to understand—that was when my career was just starting. Anne had just signed me. She attached a PR rep to get me ‘out there,’ present me as a fresh new face rising toward stardom. It was the most uncomfortable period of my life. Well… second to the reality dating show.”
Finally, Jaxon glances over at me. His expression is softer now.
“Anyway, I had this weird, exhausting schedule of parties I had to attend—meet the right producers, actors, directors. So if I ran into you at one of those events… I wasn’t really there. Nothing mattered except the people I was assigned to connect with. I’d show up, smile, say the right things, and leave.”
The ick from that period washes over me, and I shiver.
“It’s the part of this business I hate. You know?”
The car turns onto the driveway in front of the building.
“We’ll valet tonight,” he says as the vehicle comes to a stop. “Stay seated.”
Not able to look away from him, I nod. I think he’s accepted my explanation. But I still haven’t done the one thing he accused me of being incapable of: seeing him.
Before he can hop out, I reach for his arm. My fingertips rest there, just long enough to make him pause. Jaxon likes doing this—opening doors for me. Being old-fashioned in ways that are surprisingly endearing.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “If I was rude back then… I didn’t mean to be. I used to dissociate sometimes when I got nervous. That version of me… she didn’t know how to carry herself. Being an actress taught me how to interact with people. I’m better now.”
He stares at me, unreadable. It’s his turn to say something.
But instead, without a word, Jaxon slips out of the SUV.
My door opens moments later. He takes my hand and helps me down, tossing his keys to the valet, who cheers after catching them like he’s just won a prize.
It’s as if we’re in our own universe, together, hand in hand, as we stroll across the lobby, all eyes on us—some cellphones even pointed in our direction.
For the first time, it all feels like an unfair intrusion into our privacy. I’m relieved when we make it to our private elevator.
He touches the security plate, and the door slides smoothly open.
Normally, he waits for me to enter first, but this time he grips my hand tighter and walks in ahead, gently tugging me along.
Our bodies fall into rhythm. Jaxon maneuvers me until I’m backed against the mirrored wall. My feet leave the floor, and I’m wrapped in his strength, our breathing deep and matching.
His eyes melt into mine, holding me there.
“Thank you,” he whispers, voice low and rough.
“For what?”
“For explaining why I wasn’t good enough for you. Because you are a magnificently beautiful woman, Zara.”
I’ve never felt that—truly felt that—until this very moment. Even as my faith begins to fade, I feel seen. And wanted.
The elevator dings, but Jaxon doesn’t move.
“This is the third time we’ve been in an elevator together,” he says. His crooked smile hints at what he’s about to do.
I glance around him, concerned the doors might close again and take us back down.
“Relax.” His grip tightens. “They’re on sensors.”
Without warning, he claims my mouth, devouring me in a kiss that is all hunger and heat. Our tongues meet, soft, slick, and slow, and my knees weaken. I moan into his mouth, his taste flooding me.
His hand slides between us, fingers pressing into my center through the thin fabric of my pants. He circles me there, slow at first, then faster, applying just the right amount of pressure.
I gasp.
