by Ember Leigh
She breezed onto set, where Josh rifled through the script for the day. Her belly scrunched up like a middle-schooler spotting a crush once she saw him.
He squinted up at her as she took her seat beside him. “So glad you could make it.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“Do you ever?”
She frowned, willing herself to keep her eyes off his body. He wore a tight, white shirt with brown cargo shorts, similarly his uniform for filming. She could practically see the ridges of his abs through his white shirt. She glared at his abdomen.
“You look good,” he said amicably.
She furrowed a brow. “Thanks. Uh…so do you.”
“You don’t have to humor me if you don’t want to.”
I wasn’t humoring you. “All right then.”
A crew member came around to set up their mics, test the sound, and adjust the lighting. Paige picked up her copy of the script and started perusing it.
“Sorry you didn’t get much notice,” Josh said. “If you want, we can postpone filming for a little bit so you can read through that a few times. Do some test runs.”
She shrugged. “How much time before we film?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“That’s enough time.”
Josh looked skeptical but said, “All right. Whatever works for you.”
What he didn’t realize was that despite all her caterwauling on the island, she’d been observing the show operations like she’d been preparing for the SAT’s before college. She couldn’t help it really—it was just her nature. Her hawk eyes were immensely helpful in certain situations, like when she had to unexpectedly play host on a brand new show.
When the director called for places, Paige tossed the script to the side and readied herself. The set quieted.
“Five…four…three…two…”
Filming began. Josh launched into the opening monologue as soon as the opening music had subsided, and Paige noted, without betraying her emotion, the way Josh had transformed. He’d gone from Typical Josh to TV Josh—both were smooth and cocky, but his on-air persona was far more welcoming and bright, someone who might invite her over for spiked iced tea and board games
It took Paige a few moments to acclimate to the pace of Wakin’ Up. Josh held the reins, and she had to elbow her way into the conversation at times. She chalked that up to the fact Josh was used to keeping Bridgette’s input to a strictly authorized minimum.
But he eased up once he realized he could count on his new co-host. Conversation flowed easily and at times, it felt like talking to an old friend. The cameras disappeared; the world shrunk to encompass only her and Josh. This was what she loved about hosting. The feeling of oneness, of being live.
But they weren’t live, and they’d probably have to redo this a hundred times. Unless she made it so good they’d never want to touch the tape for fear of losing this spectacular display of talent.
Their segment continued uninterrupted, full of genuine laughter, witty repartee, and the most fun Paige had had on the island. When the director signaled for a break, Josh let out a long, low exhale. “Wow.”
“Do you see why she hosts live shows, people?” Gary cried out, pointing emphatically at her. “Do you understand?”
Paige smiled. How could Josh ever make a case for Bridgette now? Paige deserved the spotlight, whether it was on this island or back in Manhattan.
There was a murmur among the crew, and then the director signaled for attention.
“All right. The first segment’s done.” He paused, sizing up Paige. “Good work, kid. We might be outta here by one today, if we’re lucky.”
Paige pursed her lips into a smile. “I’m no kid. It’s all in a day’s work.”
Josh turned to her, looking amused. “You had me convinced there you didn’t hate my guts.”
“Well, Josh, like I told you before…If I couldn’t convince you, I wouldn’t be a professional.”
Her terse smile faltered as she caught a flash in his eyes. She was far from hating him—but saying so was the only protection she had against the kernel of emotion blossoming in her core.
If she kept up the façade long enough…maybe she’d believe it again.
****
“How did the first cut go?” Bridgette sounded asthmatic through the phone.
“Very well. Very, very well.” Josh squinted against the sunlight, struggling to find out where Paige had disappeared to. “She did a great job.”
“That’s not what I want to hear, Joshi.” A coughing fit overcame her, and Josh waited a few moments until she could speak again. “She’s not that good. It was just an accident.”
Josh bit his tongue, resisting the urge to confess to her that even he was blown away by Paige’s talent and prowess. He sometimes felt like a child watching a celebrity in her presence, awed by her flawless execution and the intimidating veneer of professional confidence.
“Well. Just get better soon and you’ll be back on set.”
Bridgette grumbled and cleared her throat. “It’s a Hawaiian bug, I just know it. We’re on a heathen island, Joshi. I’m surprised everyone else isn’t dying, too.”
He rolled his eyes. “Get some rest, Bridge. I’ll be up later. Taping should be finished…later this evening.”
He hung up the phone, praying to God that taping would be done at one. That way he’d have hours of uninterrupted quality time with Paige…provided he could sweet talk his way into it. As long as Bridgette thought he would be gone until the evening, he wouldn’t have to worry about her endless requests for assistance. It didn’t matter how many times he reaffirmed the professional boundaries, dodged a kiss or moved her curious hand from the heights of his thigh. Bridgette loved to play the territorial game, and Josh knew enough about women to keep Paige from getting too implicated.
He scanned the horizon once more for any glimpse of her. Crew members milled around, readying the set for the next segment. From behind him, someone’s hand touched his shoulder.
He spun on his heels.
“Impressive, eh?” Gary winked at him.
“She’s good. We all know it.”
“But what you’re not letting on to is how much better than good she is.”
Josh sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you getting at?”
“I see you, you know.” Gary wagged his finger in the air at him. “Paige Alexander is a hot talent, and you know it. Don’t think I didn’t notice how much better you performed today at her side. I know we talked earlier this morning about ways to get Paige out of her contract, but if we have to keep her here, I could make a pretty strong case for having Bridgette moved elsewhere.”
Actually, you couldn’t. Not with the deal I agreed to. Josh raised a brow. “Oh yeah? Strong case to who?”
“Anyone with a set of eyes,” he said. “Come on. Let’s talk paperwork again. Because if Paige is anywhere short of the lead role, you’re liable to lose her permanently.”
“She’s contracted for now, and I’m going to keep her on the island as long as I can.” Josh’s head started spinning, eager to get away from the idea that Paige might soon be beyond his grasp. “I’m working with what I’ve got for now. The bigger decisions will come later.”
Gary rolled his eyes. “You’re doing someone a favor, I know it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Keeping Bridgette hosting. You owed someone, and it’s gotta be. Maybe she’s your girlfriend?”
Josh narrowed his eyes. “What is it with you people? Why do you always suspect this crap?”
“Like I said, anyone with a set of eyes can see Paige Alexander was born for this stuff. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t remind you of this everyday while I’m here.”
“Noted.” He rubbed his temples with his fingers, at a loss. He wanted to spill the whole thing, let him in on his regret involving the deal he’d cut, bare everything about the confidentiality clause, the not-so-small sum of money. “
I looked at the contract again, and all I can do is let her stand in while Bridgette is out sick. We’ll take it day by day from here.”
He trailed off once Paige wandered back onto the set, the sea breeze rippling through her hair. His heart rate picked up and he looked at Gary, suddenly guilty. “Back to work for now, though.”
He joined Paige on set. She rifled through the pages for the second half of the show and didn’t acknowledge him as he sat down.
“Ready to get started again?”
“Born ready,” she said, voice flat.
“Where did you wander off to?”
“I went down to the ocean. Why? Am I contractually obligated to remain within twenty feet of you at all times like Bridgette, now that I’m in her spot?”
Josh’s jaw clenched. The insult amused him, but he feigned annoyance. She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes.
“I was just curious, okay? You don’t need to be such a bitch.”
She cleared her throat. “Strong word for so early in the day. I thought maybe we could save the dirty talk for a bit later, at least.”
He clenched his fists, recollections of their bodies pressed together searing through his mind. Good God, was it a dream he’d actually kissed this woman? How had he ever gotten so near her?
“If dirty talk is what you’re looking for, I have plenty.” He said it casually as he flipped through the script, the words appearing as blobs.
Paige was quiet for a moment. His skin prickled as he awaited her response. The director’s voice rang through the set, calling for places.
“I hope you’re serious about that,” she muttered as the cameraman counted down. Josh’s kneejerk reaction was to look over at her, but both of them were forced to assume camera-ready stances as taping commenced.
He wasn’t sure if it was an invitation or not. Either way, keeping his distance from her was getting harder now that it was evident to him just how fantastic they were when co-hosting.
Deep inside, he hoped that once a few more bricks of Paige’s fortress were removed, they might have a chance at truly getting along off-camera.
****
Paige wasn’t surprised when taping wrapped up in the early afternoon. She played the demure, innocent part as crew members milled around, baffled by the short workday. Josh had disappeared from the set as soon as taping wrapped, and she chastised herself for wanting to grab him by the collar and run off with him somewhere. Especially after her ridiculous display of I-want-it-but-I-don’t the night before.
“There any way we could set you up to do this gig all the time?” A camera worker asked her under his breath. “I mean, this is a helluva lot better than being stuck here till seven each night, you know?”
She grinned. “Talk to your boss.”
The sun was mid-sky and hot enough to melt plastic. She headed for the newsroom, the nearest chance for a respite from the sun, intent on taking a few moments of solitude to unwind from the taping. The door clanged shut behind her and the coldness of the room settled pleasantly into her skin.
“Hot day, I know.” It was Josh.
“Whatcha doing in here?” She sauntered up to him, checking for how many witnesses there would be if she were to demand he disrobe and put his hands all over her. But that wouldn’t be happening. Because she was abstaining from Josh Lambert. Once and for all.
“Just looking at the shots for the day.” He paused, as though weighing his words. “This is a really good show, Paige. Outstanding work.”
“Thanks. It must be nice for you to get off so early.” Maybe now would be the time to mention the fact that crew workers were starting to beg she stand in for Bridgette.
“I’m not complaining,” he said. “Actually…do you wanna go down to the beach?” He watched her intently, sucking the air from her lungs.
“Yeah.” The word had spilled from her mouth without even thinking. As if to justify her eagerness, she added, “I mean, it’s hotter than hell out there. I’ll need to go to my room real quick.”
“Let me join you.”
They reentered the searing heat and followed the winding path to the hotel. Excitement pumped through her, though she tried to squash it. God, why did she love being near him, accompanying him anywhere? He could have suggested they take a visit to the housekeeping closet, and she would have said yes.
Palms and ferns provided minimal protection against the sun, and all Paige could think about was taking a leap into the nearest body of water. Beads of sweat pooled at the nape of her neck, and she entertained lurid fantasies about peeling off the skirt and throwing it to the ground. Followed by very lurid fantasies of very slippery, hot bodies making contact and touching all the right places…
As they waited for the elevator, Paige’s nerves were hopping. She didn’t know if it was the heat of the day or just the heat of Josh. She jumped when he put his hand on her arm.
“Let me thank you again for standing in for Bridgette today.” His words sounded like a confession. “You did a great job, and I know a lot of people would like to see you where Bridgette is.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Present company included.”
A grin broke out on her face. “Finally. I knew you were being paid to defend her.”
He laughed. “Watch yourself, there, stud. I believe beginners deserve a chance—and she is a beginner. She needs to start somewhere. But you need to know that I recognize your talent. It’s honestly…mind-blowing.”
She was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you, Josh.”
“I want you to understand one more thing. There are some people who tell me what to do. I didn’t decide to cancel your show. Sure, I was the one who delivered the news, but I wasn’t the one who made the decision. If it had been up to me…I wouldn’t have. But I do take orders too.”
Paige was stunned to silence. The tension between them tripled. The look on his face suggested he might want to take back the words, even. “Why are you telling me this?”
He studied something far beyond her shoulder. “I just wanted you to know.”
Paige’s mind roiled. What stood out above the tumult, however, was the window of vulnerability he had offered. Something beneath his gaze betrayed a sensitive side, despite his apparent preoccupation with convincing the world he was an asshole. That soft core she’d glimpsed for the briefest of moments when kissing him, like the juicy core of a ripe fruit.
“Well, I guess that makes me feel a tiny bit better about things,” she whispered, nearing him without any sensation of her body moving. The distance dissolved further, lips hovering inches apart.
“Are you going to kiss me?” he asked. His eyes were bright and focused intensely on her again, no longer nervous and vulnerable but commanding and desirous. The warmth from his body sunk into her in a way that made her want to tear her clothes off for an entirely different reason than the heat.
“No,” she said, a lazy half-smile coming onto her face. Then she pressed her lips against his.
Electricity sizzled through her. The switch had flipped, and she fought for control, fought to keep level-headed Paige at the forefront. But every second spent in his presence pushed her further toward the edge, closer to the dizzying decision she struggled to avoid.
“What do you say we go to the beach some other time,” he murmured between kisses, grabbing hold of her bottom lip with his teeth.
She groped blindly for the elevator button, straining to make contact with it and unwilling to turn and find it. She needed to do this with Josh—and now.
The elevator doors opened and they stumbled inside, a tangled mess of arms and legs. Josh’s hands drifted from her waist up to the roundness of her breasts.
“Do it.” She urged his hand to make more contact. Her nipples were tight points straining against the fabric of her bra.
“With pleasure.” He pinched a nipple through the fabric and she shivered, breath catching in her throat as her pussy clenched. She squeezed her legs together, both delighted and
confused by the heightened reaction this man could provoke in her. He massaged her breast through her shirt as they kissed, fervent and deep.
The elevator stopped at their floor and they could barely muster the attention to exit. They stumbled, kissing and groping, into the hallway, Paige both fearful of and excited that they might get caught. This guy was everything—a talented professional, an industry giant, and her teenage crush all over again. Their lips disconnected long enough for her to unlock the door as he pressed himself against her back, hands hiking her skirt as he dared to explore higher. The door swung open, and they crashed toward the bed.
Paige climbed onto the bed as Josh tore off his shirt, revealing gleaming washboard perfection. His clavicle formed a solid line across the top of his chest, like a frame to the work of art of his body. He clenched his fists, forearm veins bulging, as though restraining himself from devouring her whole.
“Why don’t you take yours off too?”
Paige immediately complied. Josh’s gaze was like a knife edge, intense enough to memorize the moment, like he’d be recreating it later in art form somehow. She slipped off the straps of her bra, reached behind to unclasp it.
“You want more?”
He jerked his head up once, eyes never leaving her body.
She let her bra fall to the floor and her breasts hung heavy. He sucked on his teeth as he took her in. Being on display for him scratched a very deep itch, something she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. Her nipples were tiny points beneath his gaze. “Get on top of me.”
He grinned and eased himself onto her, his skin cool against hers, biceps bulging as his elbows took his weight beside her arms. She shivered, desperate to accelerate their pace toward whatever sort of ending this might have, hoping against all hope they would see every passion explored.
His lips were against her neck in a flurry of kisses, impatient and hurried. Josh pressed his abdomen between her legs and she inhaled sharply, the heat of his belly stoking her fire to dangerous levels. She wanted him inside her. Desperately.
“You are the sexiest woman I have ever met, Paige,” he whispered, his warm lips leaving a trail between her breasts.