Page 12 of Bound By Her Shocking Secret

Mia had always had an impression of him standing apart from everyone else. She’d used to tease him that it was because he thought he was better than everyone else around him, and for the most part he was certainly superior—intellectually, physically. But now she saw something else. That perhaps his past had kept him apart from others.

There was something there she wanted to tease out, but not while she was under that grey gaze. The evening was catching up with her.

She said, ‘It’s late. Lexi might wake again. I need to watch her and make sure she’s okay. You should go back to your party.’

Daniel didn’t move. Mia was afraid he was going to refuse to leave. But then he glanced at his watch. And then back at her. ‘This discussion isn’t over, Mia. I’ll contact you tomorrow.’

‘But—’

He stopped in the act of pulling on his jacket. ‘But what?’

Mia knew it was futile to argue. ‘Okay.’

Once Daniel had left, Mia couldn’t relax. The awareness in her body lingered like an overload of electricity that had nowhere to go. She went over and stood at the window, just in time to see Daniel’s tall, broad figure emerging from her building and then disappearing again into the back of his sleek car.

She’d always wondered what he’d seen in her. She was nothing like the women from his world. She was somewhat of a free spirit. Independent. She wasn’t polished. Intellectual. Socially savvy.

But from the moment they’d met a powerful force had surged between them. She’d been one of about ten models who’d been hired to go to a shoot for Devilliers. She’d been surprised to be cast, as she knew their advertising campaigns and they were very slick. Effortlessly glamorous. Sophisticated.

Mia had known she didn’t really fit the brief, with her Californian aesthetic and her hair that refused to be tamed no matter how much product was used. In fact, she would have considered herself the very antithesis of a Devilliers model.

Yet there she was. Amongst lots of taller and far more angular models from Russia, the UK, France and Ukraine. She’d felt like the odd one out, with her more athletic shape and breasts that were probably three cup sizes bigger than everyone else’s put together. She wasn’t considered a plus-size model, but sample sizes were not her friend.

The stylist had kept passing her over for the shots and so, growing a little bored, Mia had found her way to the table where all the Devilliers jewels were laid out, guarded by at least two security guys.

Even though she had no love for jewellery, after a toxic experience a couple of years previously, there was one necklace that had stood out—an oversize ruby in a simple setting. A markedly different style the other ornate designs. More modern.

Mia had picked it up and fastened it around her neck and then looked in a mirror, lifting her hair and twisting it so that she could see how it looked. She’d grinned at herself, because of course it looked a bit ridiculous against her plain white T-shirt, and then she’d almost had a heart attack when a deep voice near her had said, ‘It suits you.’

Mia had dropped her hands and whirled around to see the tallest, most breathtakingly handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. He’d been wearing a three-piece suit in steel-grey, and that was when she’d noticed his eyes. They’d reminded her of the slate-grey clouds that rolled in from the Pacific Ocean during storms.

Her heart had stopped for a long moment before palpitating back to life at double its regular rate. Mia had thought that after her experiences she was immune to a ridiculously handsome face, but evidently there was no accounting for taste. She’d assumed that he was one of the executives overseeing the shoot. She’d smiled sheepishly and reached behind her for the catch to take off the necklace, but he’d stepped forward.

‘Let me.’

She’d turned around again and he’d stepped up behind her, his scent reaching her nostrils, subtly potent and unashamedly masculine. She’d felt a flutter deep in her belly.

He’d said, ‘Lift your hair.’

She’d pulled it up and his fingers had brushed the back of her neck, turning the flutter into a tsunami of sensation.

He’d expertly undone the necklace and taken it off. Their eyes had met in the mirror, where she’d noticed he towered several inches over her. A tall woman herself, it wasn’t every day she met a man taller than her. But he had to be at least six foot four.

She’d only noticed then that the security guards had melted away discreetly. But before she’d been able to wonder about that, and who this man was, he’d said, ‘Come over to the set. I want to try something.’

Mia had turned to face him. She’d gestured to her clothes—jeans and the white T-shirt. ‘The stylist hasn’t dressed me yet.’ And she’d suspected had no intention of it. But she kept that to herself.

‘You’re perfect as you are.’

His accent was unmistakably French, but he spoke English fluently. He’d led her over to where there was a black backdrop and suddenly, as if a silent message had been issued, Mia had been surrounded by a flurry of activity. She’d been perched on a stool and over the next hour photographed with her hair up, down, and in various combinations of jewels. Necklaces—the one she’d tried on first, and then others—earrings, bracelets and rings.

And all the time the enigmatic man in the suit had watched her. It had been deeply unsettling, but also exciting. As if there was a line of tension tugging between only them, drawing her eyes back to him over and over again, to find he was looking at her with that impenetrable slate-grey gaze.

When the shoot had wrapped Mia had still been none the wiser as to who the man was, or why he’d instructed her to be photographed in the most inappropriate clothing to showcase the famous Devilliers jewels.

She’d gathered up her things and tried not to feel self-conscious about the fact that she was the only model who hadn’t been dressed in designer dresses, feeling fairly certain she wouldn’t be seeing any of the pictures they’d taken of her on a billboard any time soon.

And then, just when she’d hated herself for wondering where the man had disappeared to, she’d turned around to leave and had run straight into a steel wall. A very broad steel wall.

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