Page 8 of The Billionaire's Christmas Wish

“There's something I need to tell you,” she whispers.

Before I can respond, the assistant director’s voice crackles over the comms unit shattering the spell. “We're waiting for you on set.”

Audrey pulls away, and I feel myself unraveling. I wish she would act on impulse and run away with me, but that's not her careful, responsible style.

Every instinct urges me to beg her to stay, yet I wave goodbye, knowing I'll see her later. Watching her walk away, I notice something—her ring finger is bare. No engagement ring.

A reckless glimmer of hope ignites. Did she call off the engagement, or did he? My mind spins with questions.

Or maybe there’s a simple explanation, like not wanting to damage the ring at work.

As I walk away, my skin prickles with awareness. Unable to resist temptation, I look over my shoulder and catch her staring. Her eyes reflect the same yearning and desire I feel.

She gives a slow sexy smile.

I smirk with every filthy thought and bad intention shining in my eyes.

I call out. “We'll have to catch up properly soon.”

“I'd love that.”

Fuck.

I’m in trouble, and trouble never looked as good.

Chapter4

Audrey

Exhausted after a long day of filming, I arrange the supplies and brushes in front of Scarlett. After soaking a cotton pad in makeup remover, I look at her in the mirror.

“Close your eyes—this won’t take long.”

Scarlett’s locks cascade in soft curls as she lifts her gaze from her phone. “What a day, huh?”

I swipe the pad across her eyelids, erasing smoky quartz and rose gold shadows. “Glad it’s over. We could all use a breather.”

“Poor Luca—did you see his face? I thought steam might pour from his ears.”

I press the cotton pad lightly to her cheek and wipe the foundation. “Abel did a number on him, didn’t he?”

She hesitates. “That’s an understatement. Abel was a wreck. Rushing through his lines like a freight train and stinking of booze. I was changing outfits, but I heard he stormed out.”

The troublesome actor annoyed everyone on set. Tension rolled off Luca until he finally had enough and pulled the actor aside.

“After the tenth botched take, Luca told Abel to sober up before setting foot on set again.”

She arches an expressive eyebrow. “Ooh, must’ve been a scene. How did Abel take it?”

I pause, dipping a cotton swab into the makeup remover. “He was mad enough to punch Luca, I think. But he settled for throwing his Santa hat onto the ground and storming out like a petulant child.”

She chuckles, a snort sneaking its way in. “Unbelievable. Some people just don’t get it. This isn’t a playground.”

I wanted to call Luca about my broken engagement last night, but I didn’t. Today’s stress confirms I made the right choice, although it weighs on my mind.

I step back to admire my handiwork. “Almost finished."

The door to the makeup trailer creaks open, parting wide enough for Edie, the wardrobe assistant, to peek through.

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