Page 9 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
He tipped his head back and examined me from beneath his lashes. “Why, you think I’d stiff you for the cash?”
God, every word this man said sounded sexual to me. Hearing him say “stiff you” made my ears go hot. “I’m not about to find out, because that’s what contracts are for.”
I smiled sweetly at him. I was rewarded with his chuckle again, which I liked far too much for my own good. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
“Barney, bring me thirty Gs from the safe when you come back, man. Yeah. See you then.” He disconnected and sent me a slow, knowing smile.
I was floored. “You’re paying me in cash?”
“You’d prefer a payment plan?”
This whole situation was amusing to him, evidenced by the twinkle in his eyes and the way his lips pressed together, as if he was trying not to laugh. I, on the other hand, was so flustered I was finding it hard to focus.
“That’s a little . . . unorthodox, don’t you think?”
He grinned. “That’s rock ’n’ roll, baby. Just go with it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t like him calling me “baby.” He’d called Avery “baby.” He’d also, in the span of mere minutes, called me “darlin’” and “babe.” I guessed he called every woman other than his mother one of those three. I decided then and there that this little flirtation had gone far enough.
“Okay,” I said, all business. “I’ll go with it. One day of filming, thirty thousand bucks. But let’s get something straight. My name’s Kat. If we’re going to work together, you need to call me by my real name, because that’s the only thing I’ll answer to.”
His grin vanished. A muscle flexed in his jaw. He nodded, then directed Kenji, “Twenty minutes, then bring her up to the master suite on the second floor.” He looked back at me. “We’re shooting the bedroom scene first. Kat.” He turned and walked away without another word.
The bedroom scene? My pulse went arrhythmic. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
“Oh, no you didn’t!” Kenji laughed under his breath as he watched Nico stalk away, shoulders stiff.
“Unfortunately, I think I just did.”
I grew frantic. Twenty minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to do my makeup and hair, and squeeze myself into a dress two sizes too small. This was a disaster!
“Don’t panic, honey, it’s bad for your skin. What about this one?” Kenji held up another dress, a froth of tulle and satin with a fat cluster of pink fabric flowers at the waist.
I snorted in contempt.
“You’re right. Too Trailer Trash Barbie. You need something a little more . . . ” He pursed his lips, surveying the remaining dresses, then his eyes lit up. “Ethereal!”
From the rack he pulled the most gorgeous gown I’d ever seen.
It was in two pieces. The underlay was a long, simple cream silk sheath with a plunging neckline and a scoop back that dipped below the waist. Atop the sheath floated a delicate, sheer lace overlay in palest blush, shimmering with seed pearls and tiny crystals. Together the two pieces had the look of extremely expensive lingerie.
Awed, I reached out and slid my fingers over the lace, gossamer fine. “It’s amazing, Kenji. But my ass will look the size of Texas in this dress.”
“Tch! What is it with you girls and the size of your asses? Your rear end is beautiful, Kat, and totally proportionate to your body. Don’t you know men love a nice juicy booty on a woman?”
There was something vaguely unappetizing about the term “juicy booty,” but I decided to be gracious and say thanks when he left me speechless.
“And judging by the way Nico went all jacked-up junkyard hound dog when he saw you, I’d say he’s definitely one of those men. Can’t say you’re his usual type, but I’ve never seen him so wound up.” He whistled. “The man was en fuego!”
On fire? Wound up? I recovered after a moment only to launch into a stuttering denial, face flaming with heat. “I . . . he . . . that’s silly . . . he didn’t . . . he wouldn’t—”
Kenji sighed extravagantly, rolling his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who eats self-loathing for every meal, and has so little confidence she can’t even admit when a man finds her attractive.” He waited, brows raised in disapproval.
I felt defensive because I probably was one of those girls. But there was no way I was going to admit it. I wasn’t that lame. I went with humor instead. “I’ll have you know I only eat self-loathing for breakfast! Lunch and dinner I usually have margaritas.”
He giggled. “Oh, honey. Is it too soon in our relationship to tell you that I think I love you?”
I regarded him seriously. “You actually said aloud that you thought I was a size four, so it should be me saying I love you.”
