Page 99 of Not Part of the Plan
He escorted her over to the table and waited while she browsed. Her fingers paused over one before moving to the next. She looked up at him questioning.
“Whatever one calls to you,” he told her.
Victoriously, she plucked an oversized men’s watch from its box and held it up to him.
“Perfect. We can work with this. Now, let’s talk wardrobe.”
Fifteen minutes later Branka, dressed in only a crisp white men’s oxford and murderously sharp stilettos, leaned against the dingy window surveying the city sky line. Her watch hand was planted firmly on the glass, her other at her hip. Nat was pouting in the corner after having lost a round of “this isn’t the look we were going for” with Niko.
Impervious to the drama, Niko consulted his light meter, made a few adjustments and started with the test shots.
He checked the screen and grunted in approval. “Okay, let’s do this before we lose the light.” He moved in, alternating his distance to Branka, capturing full body shots and close-ups. Emma could tell he was still warming her up, feeding her translator instructions. Her anticipation built.
“Okay, now I want you to look at that city like you own it. Manhattan is yours.”
The translator fed Branka the line and even from her vantage point, Emma could see the slight curve in the models lips, the change in her eyes.
“Yes! That’s what I want!” Niko announced from behind the camera. There was no language barrier to his enthusiasm, and Branka went with it. A queen surveying her kingdom, the men’s watch catching the light on her wrist.
Click. Click. Click.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Niko said, handing the camera over to an assistant. He offered a palm to Branka, and she slapped him an enthusiastic five.
They crowded around the monitor setup clicking through the shots, and Branka clapped her hands when they saw it. The spark. The woman who owned the world.
“Damn you, Nikolai,” Nat sighed. “That’s not what we were looking for.”
“Tell me it’s not perfect,” he dared her, a cocky grin pulling on his lips. “Tell me.”
“Let me send the test shot up the ladder and see what the powers that be think.”
She instructed one of the set assistants to upload the file, and Niko strutted back to Emma. He pulled up a stool in front of her. “So what did you think?”
He was incredible. Magical. Watching him work left her a little shaky and breathless just knowing what genius lay beneath that beautiful exterior.
“You are really, really good at your job,” Emma admitted. “And I definitely want to tear off your clothes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
They celebrated in true Manhattan style with dinner reservations at a trendy bistro, and Emma dressed the part. Her simple ivory sheath dress had elbow length sleeves and stopped several inches above sedate. Niko, still buzzed from his shoot, couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“I’ve missed this,” Emma sighed, letting her gaze travel the restaurant. Nine o’clock on a Thursday and the place was packed. Blue Moon didn’t have the energy of the city. And she was pleased to find New York’s vibe was edgier, busier, than L.A.’s.
“You know,” Nikolai said, leaning in conspiratorially across the table. “We could just ask them to pack up the entrees to go.” He was dashing in a dark suit. He’d skipped the tie and left the top two buttons of his tailored shirt open. And Emma wasn’t the only female in the place who couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
She laughed. “You’re insatiable.” He’d proven that fact yet again when they returned to his apartment after the shoot. They’d very nearly missed their dinner reservation.
“You look beautiful,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips. “It’s not my fault that I can’t get enough of you.”
“You Vulkovs certainly know how to pour on the charm,” she said, fanning herself with her napkin.
“Emma, you know you’re special to me, don’t you?” Niko asked, his dark eyes intent on hers.
She glanced down at the table, fighting the blush that threatened her face. “I am aware that you have certainfriendlyfeelings toward me.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it,” he argued. “And you’re going to see it tomorrow at the show. I don’t want you to feel ambushed.”
“You used pictures of me?” Emma’s heartbeat picked up.
