Page 13 of In Bed with Her Billionaire Bodyguard

Hope shook her head. ‘He works for me.’

‘And that stopped who, exactly?’

‘Precisely. How am I supposed to be better than all the men that dipped their fountain pen in the company ink if I just do as they do?’

The tease left Kinara’s assessing gaze. ‘Fair. But seriously, though.’

Hope couldn’t help but smile, just about resisting the urge to look over her shoulder to where a significant amount of attention was gathering on her Italian chauffeur. ‘Seriously though’ was ringing in her head as she tried to get them back on track.

She caught the eye of Anita, a Harcourts marketing assistant, and sent her a wave. Anita would be gathering behind-the-scenes photos and interviews to put across their socials just before the launch. Hope, Kinara and Anita had worked hard on the marketing campaign that would start four months before on-sale, and go hard two months in. There were levels to it, digital, in-person, celebrity endorsement, TV advertising, billboards and even client-generated content after sale, each part purposely curated to ensure that Kinara’s collection sold as forecast. It all stretched out before them in lines that Hope could see and would pull together to make one hell of a campaign.

‘I want to bring you in to meet with the senior staff.’

Kinara squinted. ‘Am I ready for that?’ they asked a little nervously.

‘Absolutely,’ Hope replied, knowing that it was right she had come here today. ‘This is your first shoot for your first collection for us and I couldn’t be happier or prouder with what you’re doing.’

Kinara, who had always been tactile and utterly themselves, swept Hope up in a hug. The sudden contact surprised her, her already precarious emotions teetering on the brink. Hope hugged Kinara back with as much enthusiasm as she was given and eventually they started laughing at themselves.

Pulling back to level Kinara with a gaze, ‘I love this collection,’ Hope said sincerely. ‘And I know with absolute certainty that I am the lucky one who got you before all the others come calling and want you in their stores.’

Kinara waved off Hope’s words before pulling her over to the monitor, where they explained the styles and coordinated sets that had been put together for the collection. Hope stayed at the shoot for as long as her schedule would allow, letting herself enjoy Kinara’s fierce concentration and determined view of what they wanted. It was a part of her job she really enjoyed, helping to choose new stockists. And, although as Marketing Director it wasn’t common, she’d worked hard with the Harcourts buyer to make this happen. Because she believed in it.

She quietly started saying her goodbyes so as not to disrupt the notoriously pedantic photographer.

‘Listen, you know that Gabriella Casas has been trying to reach your brother?’ Kinara asked.

Hope frowned. The interim Financial Director had mentioned Ms Casas trying to reach Nate too, but Hope shook it off. It would wait until Nate was better, even if nothing else could.

She shrugged off Kinara’s question and looked back to where Luc was still standing by the car. No one could deny that he was striking, the deep blue suit and crisp white shirt mere window-dressing for the main attraction that washim. She heard the giggles of the models, clearly checking him out, but instead of preening under the attention, Hope was half convinced that, beneath his dark glasses, his focus was—as it always seemed—on her. Embarrassed by the sudden thump of her heart, sluggish and heavy at the thought, she made her way slowly towards him, suddenly conscious of everything between them. The sound of her breath, the slight tightening across his shoulders, the clench low in her belly, the flickering muscle at his jaw.

The door was opened for her by the time she reached the car, and Hope kept her silence as Luc manoeuvred it around and back through the narrow lane. And while her thoughts should be on the nomination, she couldn’t shake Luc from her thoughts as the brooding Italian navigated the London streets with a calm, serene ease.

‘You didn’t like it,’ she observed.

‘Like what?’

‘Back at the shoot. The attention?’

‘No.’ The word was clipped and should have ended the conversation.

Hope frowned. ‘Can I ask why?’

For a moment she thought he might not answer.

‘It’s not real,’ he said with a shrug. ‘It’s not me that they are attracted to. It’s what I look like.’

And the smile dropped from Hope’s lips, startled by the fact that this particular sentiment linked them in a way that made her think he might have understood that about her too.

Before she could pursue the conversation, he pulled into the car lane in front of Harcourts and she couldn’t believe her eyes. There was a crowd of paparazzi spilling from the pavement into the road.

‘We should use the underground garage,’ Luc insisted.

‘They’ve already seen us,’ she replied, angry that her cousin had managed to turn everything into a circus. She was the one who was supposed to control the media, but PR and Marketing were two different departments.

‘There are too many people out there.’

‘If you won’t let me out here,’ she said, reaching for the door, ‘then I’ll do it my—’

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