A Model Fiancé

by Kaye, Nikky

  “Don’t drink too fast,” Dev warned me, his arm going around my waist. “Just sips for now.”

  Ha! Like he wasn’t taking big gulps out of my self-possession?

  But, knowing I wanted to make the bottle last, I stopped after a couple of swallows. It was enough to make my throat work again, anyhow.

  The scent of jasmine floated around me like a protective barrier for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, it didn’t give me any superpowers.

  By dinnertime Dev was still going strong, but I was fading quickly. Rohit, our driver from earlier, met us at the restaurant before I fell face first into my food. I waited until we were in the car, drowsily snuggling into Dev’s warm side all the way back to the hotel.

  I was practically sleepwalking as he steered me to my room with Rohit’s help.

  “You staying?” I murmured to Dev as he sat me down on the edge of the bed. Oh, it was cool and soft. So soft, I thought as I lay back.

  Rohit cleared his throat where he stood at the open door. “I’ll wait, Mr. Sharpe, and accompany you to your room as well.”

  With my eyes closed, I only felt my fiancé’s sigh but could imagine the disappointment on his face as he leaned over me. “Guess not, sleeping beauty,” he muttered. “I’ve got an early call time anyhow. Tonight’s not the best…”

  “Excuses…” I trailed off, unsure whom he was trying to convince.

  Sleepily, I rolled my head to the side as I realized I was crushing the flowers in my hair. I felt like Dorothy in the field of poppies in Oz. Wait, was that just some weird opium reference? Why hadn’t I realized that before?

  “You drugged me with flowers.”

  Dev’s brief chuckle rumbled in my ear as he leaned over and put his hands on my waistband.

  I heard Rohit call out, “Mr. Sharpe?”

  “Just a sec.”

  Dev popped open the button on my pants and drew down the zipper.

  My eyes opened, my body waking up a little.

  “Um…”

  “Is everything all right?” Rohit asked in the background.

  Dev’s body blocked me from the driver’s sight as he tugged my blouse free. “I’m just making you more comfortable,” he said with a tight smile.

  “Oh.” My nipples rose, hardening reflexively.

  His gaze was dark and liquid, like melted chocolate leaving a trail between my chest and my face. I shivered in the air-conditioned room.

  “Dev—”

  “Uh, unless you’re into exhibitionism, I think you’d better handle the rest yourself.” He jerked his head to remind me of the man waiting patiently eight feet away.

  “Oh. Okay.” My voice was small even though of course he was right.

  Was it wrong that I craved his touch? That I wanted him to undress me when my own hands were so… tired? His Adam’s apple bobbed under his nine o’clock shadow as he swallowed. I wanted to put my tongue to it.

  “Oh, Audrey.” With one arm braced against the bed by my head, he cupped my cheek with his other hand. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

  “T’morrow what?”

  “Tomorrow we talk.”

  My eyes drifted closed again. I didn’t want to see the rejection in his eyes. “Talk is cheap, Dev.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I’m worth millions now, so maybe I can splurge on more than just a conversation. Right?”

  At least I think that’s what he said. His lips brushed over mine with a quiet “goodnight” and his hand swept over the sensitive curve of my breast, as fleeting as a dirty thought, before he stood up.

  Damn, I thought as I heard the door close. The man’s turning me into a narcoleptic.

  13

  Dev

  “Lean back. Hips forward, Dev. Spread your elbows a little wider. Perfect. Now look at ten o’clock, head only.”

  “It’s barely seven,” I called out to Dierks, the photographer. But I was just teasing him; I knew that he meant the direction of my gaze. Twelve o’clock was straight ahead, and six o’clock was behind me.

  “Ha!” With a wave of his hand he sent an assistant toward me with a light meter. “You’re just lucky I know how to make your smart ass look good without filters.”

  I grinned, my mood improving with the rising sun. I wasn’t exactly thrilled when the car showed up for me in the morning. Actually, it was still dark the whole way to our location at the Red Fort. The whole point was getting the first light when it broke, Dierks explained after a friendly back slap. We’d worked together before, and I was genuinely pleased to see the smirking German asshole again.

  “You only wish you were taking pictures of my ass!”

  The young assistant who looked to be local, nearly dropped the meter in shock.

  “It’s okay,” I said to him in a lower voice. “We know each other.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Apparently so.” And he skedaddled back to Dierks.

  “Ten o’clock, Dev!”

  I got into the position he wanted again. “This good?”

  “Perfect. Now look into the distance and think about your girl.”

  That wasn’t hard to do. I missed the hell out of her. In some ways it was a good thing we hadn’t spent the night together—it would have made getting out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn a lot harder. As it was, I still spent too long in the shower, trying to wake up.

  And then I had morning wood to deal with.

  Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. In my earlier shower her face was in my mind and her name on my lips as I fisted my cock and tingled from head to toe.

  Now, leaning against the pockmarked sandstone wall, I imagined her there again with me, her hair streaming down her back, blinking against the water as she looked up at me. Kneeling before me, her hands running up my thighs and her mouth opening to take me in…

  “Whoa, Dev!”

  I squinted at Dierks, who’d let the camera lay on his chest, hanging from the strap that was around his neck. “What?”

  “This is a family-friendly shoot, mein geil Freund.” He strode over with a smug-ass smile on his face. His tall frame blocked out the rising sun better than the scrims did, the closer he got.

  “What?”

  “Your big head’s at ten o’clock, but your little one’s at noon.” He looked down. “Well, maybe not so little.”

  I followed his gaze to the tent in my designer trousers. “Fuck.” My constant blue balls around Audrey had become so normal that I hadn’t even noticed. “Can we take a break?” I asked.

  Dierks looked around, silently assessing. He nodded. “Okay. Light’s changing, anyway.”

  “Does that mean we’re done here?”

  “Yeah, but we’re going to head down to Purana Qila next. It should be a little less crowded there, at least for a little longer.” He waved his hand around and I saw tourists and photography buffs filling the square below, their shadows long in the early morning sun.

  Dierks shouted out instructions to pack up, and the assistants went into action. The stylist said I should just leave on the clothes I was wearing, but she had other stuff to get into the van.

  I walked across the three hundred-year-old rampart and leaned over near a waist-high section, careful not to get too much dust on my clothes. The sun was warm on my back as I looked out over the historic fort. Beyond it, the perpetual haze over the city was still pearly, not yet shimmering with the heat that would come with the afternoon.

  Delhi was a strange place, and I felt as much a foreigner in it as Audrey did—more, perhaps. At least she was obviously a tourist, her creamy cheeks reddening with the heat and sun.

  As a “halfie,” my skin was dark enough to blend in, but my clothes and language quickly revealed that I wasn’t anywhere close to local. I was Indian, but not. I was Irish on my father’s side, but the most Irish thing about me was a taste for whiskey and a gift for blarney.

  Hessa had hired me because I could be anybody, from anywhere. As a model, my mixed heritage was an asset. As a man it left me feeling a little lost, like I
didn’t know where I belonged.

  The day before, Audrey was my compass. I gravitated to her, my magnetic north. How long had it been that way? I wondered. Damn, I missed her, and it had only been twelve hours since I’d had my hands on her. It was strange how I couldn’t get her out of my head when technically our fling hadn’t even really begun yet.

  A hand clapped on my back, startling me out of my thoughts.

  I turned to see Dierks with a bag over his shoulder and his thumb jerking to the side. “We’re taking the first car. Let’s go.”

  Once we were settled in the back seat and on our way, he turned to me with an expectant expression. “Tell me about your fiancée.”

  Of course, he’d heard. I looked out the window, not sure how much to share with him. “I’ve known her since we were kids.” That was the truth, at least.

  “Is she hot?” He held up a hand. “Wait, you don’t need to answer that. I’m sure she’s gorgeous. California girl, beach volleyball type?”

  My lips quirked. “Not even close.” Although Audrey did have pretty shapely legs.

  “Huh. But Tanya—” He broke off after saying my photographer ex-girlfriend’s name. “I worked with her recently, you know. I think she still has a thing for you.”

  I couldn’t care less. “Too bad,” I said with a shrug. “She also has a thing for lying.” Her little “oops, I’m pregnant” game still rankled me. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she lied that bothered me the most, or the fact that I bought it.

  “What does she do?” Dierks asked. “Your fiancée, I mean.”

  “Audrey? Uh, she’s in between jobs right now.”

  “Huh.” My friend paused. “I guess that made it easier for her to come with you.”

  I nodded. “She’s out right now, touring something.” God only knows what and where. My hand twitched against my pocket. Like an idiot, I’d left my phone in my hotel room, so I couldn’t even text her. The phantom pain of a missing smartphone was real.

  The car had stopped, but hadn’t started moving again. The drive between the fort and the Humayan Gate at the other fortress shouldn’t have taken more than half an hour. At this rate, the sun would be high in the sky before we were setup again.

  Dierks leaned forward and looked out the windshield. “What’s the problem?” he asked the driver.

  “Cow.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Fucking India.”

  “Yep.”

  “This is a sweet deal, though,” he said, but I wasn’t sure if he meant for himself, me or for Audrey.

  “Mmmhmmm. Except for the separate rooms,” I griped.

  “Ah. That explains Mr. Happy back there.”

  I snorted. “Dickhead.”

  “Pot, kettle.”

  But we both chuckled.

  Dierks met my gaze, his expression suddenly straightening. “You better marry her soon, man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his head. “I’ve worked for Hessa before, ja? Sharma… well, he’s all about the family.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “He’s a good guy, but conservative as fuck.” He prodded me in the ribs. “And that’s coming from a good German boy.”

  I laughed. From my recollection, this particular German boy wasn’t all that buttoned-up. In fact, there was an incident at a bar in Amsterdam…

  “I guarantee that if you’re sneaking into each other’s rooms,” he continued, “he knows about it, and he will pull out the—what the hell do you say? The shotgun?”

  “He’s not her father.” It was a little insulting, even coming from someone I considered a friend.

  “No, but he can rip up your contract if you break the morals clause.”

  What?“ Morals clause?” The car began moving again, right about the time that my heart stopped.

  Dierks shook his head. “You didn’t read all of it, did you?”

  I banged my head against the window. “Shit.”

  * * *

  My hands were full and my mouth dry when I returned to the hotel that afternoon. To press the button in the elevator, I had to juggle the garment bag with clothes from the shoot—a gift, naturally—a designer shopping bag, and the small messenger bag I’d taken with me that morning.

  Once I got in the door, I let it all drop to the floor and I fell on my phone with the zeal of a man finding an oasis in the desert. Yeah, phone addiction was totally a thing.

  There were a bunch of messages from Audrey, beginning at about eight that morning. A goofy smile stretched my face as I read them.

  -Hi! How did you sleep? I feel better this morning. Thanks for tucking me in.

  -Looks like we’re headed to the Red Fort. Have you been there?

  -Pigs? Really? PIGS are on the side of the road.

  -I’m having this thing called panty pussy for lunch. Yum!

  -OMG pan I purists

  -Panic purring

  -FML damn you autocorrect!

  -PANNI PURI

  -Back around sex. We having dinner?

  Once I was done laughing, I lay down on the bed and used the wifi to download the photos she’d sent me. She had a good eye. I’d have to tease Dierks that my fiancée was a better photographer than he was.

  We must have just missed each other at the Fort. It was funny to think we might have touched the same walls, walked on the same stone—along with thousands of other people today. Maybe we’d have a chance to go back there together.

  I checked the time, realizing that I had phone calls to make before I could have a nap or a shower. It was a toss-up as to which would take the longest.

  It was T minus three hours to wooing time, and I would be ready.

  14

  Audrey

  I needed a shower, badly. After a day of traipsing around Delhi with Preethi, more than just my phone needed recharging. Once I stepped into my hotel room, I dropped my purse on the floor and myself onto the freshly made bed.

  God bless Housekeeping.

  I never made my bed at home. There never seemed to be much point when you were just going to get into it and mess it up again.

  But when in a hotel, I always wished that I was a little tidier, a little more disciplined in my everyday life—because there was something magical about getting into a well-made bed. It was almost as if the smoothness of the covers guaranteed peaceful dreams.

  On my stomach with my head turned to the side, I felt the crisp cotton under my cheek and I could smell laundry soap. It was reassuring. Pristine. Begging to be mussed up, like a kid whose mom combed gel into their hair for picture day at school.

  Rolling over, I spread my arms out beside me like I was making a snow angel. It was a big bed and my full wingspan didn’t even touch the edges. It was big, fluffy, white, clean, and—I sighed with realization—empty.

  This bed was meant to be shared.

  My feet dangled off the edge, and I groaned as they throbbed in my athletic sandals. If I needed a shower, then my feet needed a spa day.

  The clock beside the bed said 6:18. With any luck, Dev was back. A little thrill went through me at the prospect of spending the evening with him—maybe the whole night.

  First things first. Before I got too excited at the prospect of messing the bed up, there were things to do.

  With a long sigh, I sat up. Plugged my phone in. Took off my shoes. Took off everything. Started the shower and got in. Shaved my legs and scrubbed every part of me. By the time I was done, I was so clean you could eat off me—which I was hoping might be part of my evening with Dev.

  When I got out, my skin was pink and goosebumps were rising on my body from the air conditioning. I looked longingly at the bed again. It would be so easy to lie down on it, use the towel wrapped around me as a blanket…

  No, no, no. Bad Audrey. Sexy fling time with gorgeous, sweet man first, then bed. Wait, no. I could multi-task—bed with sexy man! Now my hardened nipples and shivers were in anticipation, not from c
old air.

  I checked my phone. It had come back to life and brought delayed text messages with it from the afterlife. The only one I cared about was Dev’s latest.

  -Text me when you’re back. I made plans for us.

  Huh. Well, that wasn’t vague at all. What was I supposed to wear? A dress? Trekking pants that zipped off and turned into shorts? Was it a date?

  Well, duh. Of course it was a date!

  In fact, Dev would probably be just as happy for me to wear nothing, I thought to myself. Maybe we could order room service and I could just keep the towel on. Or not. I threw the towel on the bed and dug into my bag for some clothes, my heart pumping with nervous excitement.

  * * *

  “Where are we going?” I asked Dev when he appeared at my door. I’d decided on a long, flowing skirt paired with a stretchy black t-shirt. Just looking at the sandals I’d worn all day made me shudder, so I’d slipped on the pair of foldable flats he’d gotten me in Vegas.

  “I’m not telling you,” he said, wrapping a scarf around my head as a kind of blindfold.

  Heaven only knew what people were thinking when they saw him carefully guiding me, his arm around my waist. The nice thing about being blindfolded, though, was that I didn’t have to deal with the weird looks.

  We stopped walking, and as I listened carefully, I realized we were in an elevator—still in the hotel. He pulled me closer to him as other people got in, and I heard the pressing of buttons to my right.

  “You know, you didn’t need to blindfold me to get me back into your room,” I said in a low voice. “I’m kind of a sure thing.”

  He bent over to whisper back in my ear, “Who said we’re going to my room?”

  “My room, then.”

  “Nope.”

  I huffed. “I hate surprises.” And I wasn’t crazy about blindfolds, either.

  They made me nervous. I’d thought I’d been sure about so many things in my life, only to have them go poof! My parents, college, my job, my love life… I’d lived with disappointment for so long it was what I expected.