Page 136 of Reckless Vow

How long before I lose her again?

* * *

“That’s not acceptable, John.” Brook’s voice cuts through the air, reaching my sleepy mind.

I roll in the unfamiliar bed, missing the warmth of her. I don’t know how long I slept, but I finally feel more myself.

Still unsettled and hating our current predicament, but at least I’m rested.

“Then I pay the penalties and rescind the contract. There is no way I’m working with him.”

What the hell is happening? I get up and find yesterday’s boxers. Fuck, we need to unpack.

The bedroom is dark with the thick curtains closed.

I follow Brook’s voice, finding her standing by the glass wall of windows in the living room. The strong light blinds me momentarily. How long did I sleep?

Her back is to me. Her hair is all messy, and she is wearing only a shirt.

My black shirt. I haven’t lost her. Yet.

Her hair is wet, and the shirt falls almost to her mid-thighs. She looks edible. Delicious.

But she is tense on the phone. Who is John?

I remember that name, I just can’t place him right now.

“Tough shit. Talk to them, but my decision is final.” She nods a few times. “Okay, John, thank you. Keep me posted.” She drops her hand and sighs.

“Good morning.” I walk across the sun-bathed room to her.

She pivots. “Good morning? You slept like a log. It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Well, that won’t help with the jetlag.” I snake my arms around her shoulders and kiss the crown of her head. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I just woke up half an hour ago.” She looks up at me, smiling. “You look rested. It suits you. Did I wake you?”

“No. What happened?”

Her shoulders slouch and she groans. “I got a TV series deal.”

“That’s wonderful, baby. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, but they want to cast Dylan Sinclair as the lead.”

Annoyance swipes through me, and, if I’m honest, jealousy too. “Over my dead body.”

She chuckles. “That’s what I said. I have an executive producer role, but my agent isn’t optimistic my influence is enough. Someone must have pulled strings.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She snorts. “No, you won’t. I can take care of my own problems.”

“Dylan Sinclair is my problem.”

As I said earlier, she’ll work with her ex over my dead body.

She rises on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek and walks away. “That is very chivalrous, and a bit unhinged, but let me fight my own battles.”

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