Page 17 of Silk Shadow

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Emily is remarkably resourceful,” she said, walking past him to her room. “She’ll find her way back to the hotel. Don’t worry about her." He got the feeling this was the way their nights ended more often than not.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your evening," he said bluntly.

She turned around, her arms crossed in front of her like she was hugging herself. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

There was a heavy pause where they just looked at each other. Eventually, he gave a tight nod. “Good night, Miss Beaumont.”

“Goodnight, Viper.”

He waited until he heard the lock in her door turn, before he sat down on the bed.

Viper had fought and survived in places of unimaginable chaos, but the swimsuit fashion shoot nearly undid him. Twelve demanding models, all requiring makeup, hair, styling, and ego flattering. Eleven different locations on the beach, behind rocks, in the water, beyond the crashing breakers, and on the sandy beach. Ten crew members carrying everything from giant white umbrella screens and lighting to heavy-duty camera stands and props. It was like a bad freaking Christmas song.

And Izzy was everywhere at once.

He watched her flit from prepping the models and guiding the stylist, to talking to the photographer and advising the art director. Emily was there too in an enormous pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses, armed with a clipboard, her phone glued to her ear. He wondered what time she'd gotten back last night.

He had to give Izzy credit, she knew exactly what she wanted. The models had to pose in a natural way, doing things normal women did. Running, swimming, jumping, playing bat and ball, frolicking through the waves. There were even a few male models for complementary shots. Walking along the beach holding hands, kissing in the water, throwing a frisbee to each other.

It was very well organized. Izzy wanted the photographer to capture real-life moments and from what Viper could see, he did what he was told, only pausing to yell, "Show me your cleavage, darling!" or "I know it's sunny, but open your eyes!" or "Too much glow. Can we take it down a notch?"

He also took some shots of Izzy. Poses that made Viper's mouth go dry. Izzy kneeling in the shallows, her head back, laughing. Izzy lying on the dry sand, grains caked on her breasts and in her hair. Izzy lounging against a rock, her hips thrust forward evocatively.

Her personal stylist, Clint, had spent the better part of the morning in her suite doing her hair and makeup, and casting unashamedly hot glances in his direction. Izzy had been transformed into an even more beautiful version of herself, if that was possible, with perfect makeup, a shimmering golden glow, and glossy lips that begged to be kissed.

Viper had vetted the advertising company, but it was impossible to check out the individual crew members, many of whom were freelancers, so he'd spent the entire day performing risk assessments, ruling out potential threats, and shadowing her every move.

She kept going, barely stopping for lunch, guiding and supervising her team, and looking more beautiful and glamorous than the models themselves. Her energy was boundless, he didn't know how she did it. The sun was sinking over the sea when she finally called it quits for the day.

Everybody heaved a collective sigh of relief.

"We'll start at first light tomorrow," she called, as the exhausted crew packed up and the models sauntered back to their hotel rooms to rest and recuperate.

"That was a good day, Viper," she said, as he helped her carry cases of swimsuits and accessories up to her room.

"That’s great, ma'am."

"I think we got some really good shots. Max is going to send the proofs to me this evening." Her cheeks were pink from the sun, and she had sand stuck in her eyelashes and on her chest. Her hair was disheveled, held back by a pair of enormous sunglasses, and the slip dress she wore over her bikini had fallen off one golden shoulder. His heart skipped a beat as she smiled up at him.

Fuck, he was smitten.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked.

"I'm not sure if enjoy is the right word," he replied. "It was interesting. I've never been on a fashion shoot before." It was very different from his brand of chaos.

"I could tell." She smiled again and he wondered what she meant. Had he looked that out of place? "It can be frantic, but this crew is very professional. I've used them countless times before. They know how I work."

"At the pace of an Indy 500 race?"

She laughed. "Something like that."

Not once had she mentioned last night, which he was relieved about. They seemed to have reached a tentative truce. He checked the suite and let her in.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said, pausing at the door to her room. "Then I've got some work to do."

"Don't you ever take a break?" The words were out before he could stop himself.

She grinned. "I’m a workaholic, hadn’t you noticed?”