Page 51 of Faking It

The PA hands me a teacup as Pat yells, “Action!” and I make purposeful steps to join Mila on the couch.

She takes the cup and mumbles, “Thanks.” Her shaking hands raise the cup to her lips as I apologize for making her mad enough to storm out and get in harm’s way.

Mila shakes her head. “It was my fault for acting so impulsively. As an ex-marine, I should know better.” She takes another sip. “It’s not easy for me to let anyone in. You were right, though. I’m going to die alone if I don’t open up.”

Her body shudders when I brush the lock of hair from her face. That’s not part of the script. It’s a natural reaction. The tentative look in her eyes, mixed with a touch of desire, for some reason, I doubt that’s acting, too.

“You’re not going to die alone. I won’t let you. Even if it means prying you open myself.”

She smiles. “I’d like to see you try. I’d kick your ass right back into Sunday.”

I chuckle in response, then stare at her seriously. “Look, I know things started off rocky between us, what with us working for enemy camps and all. After those experiences we shared, I’d like to think we’re colleagues, at least.”

“You could say that,” she replies with a nod.

“Which means I have an open door if you’re ready to talk, understand?”

She gives me a long stare, her forehead creased with a slight frown. She’s trying to find that line between real and fake, I can tell. Truth is, we’re acting out a scene, but I mean those words. When Jared mentioned this role was made for Ana, he had no clue how right he was. Mila Svoboda is Ana Kent through and through.

“Cut.”

I’m pulled from my reverie by Pat’s firm call. “Ana, darling, did you forget your lines?”

“Um, no.” Ana blinks, and a soft blush covers her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“Do you need another break? I know that outdoor scene took a toll on you,” Pat says.

Ana waves her hand. “No. I’d hate for us to fall off schedule.” She rubs her hands on her thighs and blows out a breath. “I’m ready to go.”

“Action!”

“I understand,” Mila replies to my earlier remark. “Don’t hold your breath, though. You might not have heard this about me, but I’m one tough cookie.”

A mischievous smile tugs my lips apart. “Oh, I’ve heard. Seeing as though we’ll be in lockdown until we get that greenlight, I’m looking forward to the challenge. I’m going to enjoy prying you open.”

“Are you?” Mila twists her head with a teasing smile. “Another Afghan mission would be easier, Mr. Wilson.”

“You underestimate me, and that’s good. I’m going to enjoy bringing you to your knees.”

Mila bites her lower lips, her finger circling the rim of the teacup, the combined action doing things to my body that are inappropriate, even in a scene like this. The stirring between my legs intensifies when she mutters, “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about my heart?”

“And if we’re not?”

My heart does a little flutter when she runs her tongue across her lips in slow motion.

A short beat passes as her eyes shift from mine down to my mouth, then back up again. “You’re a tempting man, Mr. Wilson, but I don’t sleep with the enemy.”

“I thought we were no longer enemies.”

“I don’t sleep with my colleagues, either.”

She sucks in a sudden breath as I trail my fingers up her thigh. Another reaction that I’m sure is real, especially with how hard her nipples are right now. “There’s a first time for everything; isn’t that what they say?” I murmur, meeting her heated eyes.

“Mmh.” Mila leans in with a smirk. “That trick might work with the ladies,” she whispers close to my mouth. “In case you missed that memo, I’m not a lady.”

My eyes scrutinize her face, seeing the sensual look she’s giving me, wondering, in this moment, the ratio between real and fake. “And in case you missed that memo, Ms. Svoboda, I don’t do ladies, either.”

I slip my fingers through her hair, clasping the back of her head, pulling her close enough where our faces are barely a breath apart. “I like them rough around the edges. Bad-ass. Strong enough to know what they want but weak enough to submit to me.”

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