London Royal (London Royal Duet Book 1) Page 8

  His hands shifted on my waist as his thumbs traced my hipbones, and I forgot to breathe. Wobbly knees forced me to tighten my hold on him. As if responding to my body’s automatic softening, my eyes dipped to his lips.

  What the hell am I doing? My brain tried desperately to take control of the situation, but I didn’t feel like listening. For the first time in longer than I cared to think about, I liked having someone’s hands on me. I wasn’t afraid. Instead, I craved it, that connection. My body hummed with vibrant sexual energy. An energy I hadn’t felt in six long years. There were nerves, but not from fear or trepidation. It felt good. Better than good. It made me remember how much I needed to be touched. Or rather touched by someone who could make me feel safe.

  But just as the last of the tension ebbed out of my body, his thumbs pressed gently against my hipbones, moving me back several inches. He raised his head, and we stood like that for several seconds before I realized Jasper had switched the music. Oh, God. I’d been standing there with a total stranger, practically melting into him.

  Heat rushed to my face. “I—”

  He smiled, and I was too blinded to finish. Gently, his thumbs traced across my hipbones once more, and he let me go. “Thank you for the dance.” Then he turned around and walked away.

  I spent several seconds staring after him. What the hell had just happened?

  “Hey, there you are.” Faith’s voice broke me out of the fog. “Who was that you were dancing with? I couldn’t see clearly.”

  I stared into the crowd feeling empty. “I have no idea.”

  8

  Abbie…

  Two days later, I stood in front of Xander’s office door wishing I hadn’t stayed up so late again. I’d need to be careful hanging out with Sophie and crew. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Come on. Get it together. You’re here to learn. I couldn’t be afraid forever.

  Taking one more deep breath to marshal my nerves, I knocked quietly.

  “It’s open.”

  “Here goes nothing,” I mumbled.

  The moment I opened the door to Xander’s office, I felt like I’d walked into an episode of Hoarders. There were piles everywhere of books and boxes of photo equipment. Wow. “Um, is this a good time?”

  He grinned as he stood. “Of course. It’s your time to use. Here, let me clear you a spot to sit.” Quickly, he cleared a stack of coffee table books off a chair and placed them on the floor beside his desk. “There you go. Have a seat, Little Bird.”

  I flushed. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  He plopped into his seat across from me with a lazy ease. “What, Little Bird? It’s how I see you. I go through every single one of the photos that you all submit for review. Occasionally, one or two stand out. From that point forward, I can’t help but look at my students that way, as if that photo encompasses everything they are.” He shrugged. “Hence, Little Bird.”

  There was no way I’d be able to concentrate with him staring at me like that. Like I had his full focus. I tried not to squirm under the scrutiny of his direct gaze. “So, can I ask, what are you looking for in your assistant position?”

  His bark of laughter was rich and low. “Right to the point, I see.”

  I shrugged. “It’s why I came to London. I want to work with you.”

  Something flitted over his expression, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m looking for a damn good photographer who can put up with me. Right now, all of you show promise, but I think with some hard work, we can make you shine.”

  Way to be vague. “I’d just like to know the criteria you’re using to measure my work.”

  His lips tipped up in an oddly familiar smile. “Ahhh, the artist with a type-A streak. I understand. Composition, command of the light around you, the basics but to an expert level. I don’t want to be able to tell the difference between your work and an Ansell Adams. But you have to infuse heart into your images. That and confidence. If it’s not there, I can’t use you.”

  Heart. Confidence. Considering mine had been ripped out of my chest, and my confidence lay under a pile of shit, I’d have to figure that out. “Okay. I can work on it.”

  “So, tell me what you’re thinking of for your first assignment.”

  I detailed my plan to photograph the architecture of London and how I hoped to get that gritty urban feel that somehow still managed to convey joy. He listened intently before speaking.

  “It’s a decent plan. But honestly, I want to push you outside of your comfort zone. I don’t want you to take pretty pictures of landscapes. Your portfolio was a little light on portraits. Maybe you can try some this week.”

  I forced my breathing to even out. Portraits. Absolutely my weakest kind of photos. “I, uh—”

  “Hold that thought.” He stood and strode to the bookshelf. Xander pulled out a dusty hardcover and handed it to me. Then he got on his hands and knees and searched the lower shelves before finding what he was looking for. “And this.”

  His fingertips brushed mine, and I jumped. He immediately withdrew his hand and sat on the edge of his desk, giving me plenty of room. Great. Now he thought I was nuts.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Xander studied me carefully. “You’re here to learn, right? And to push your boundaries?”

  I nodded.

  “Then try something new. Have a look through those two books. Jonathan Frazier is one of my favorite photographers. The first one is a book of his landscapes. The other is of his portraits. Next meeting, tell me which ones moved you the most.” He glanced at the clock. “It looks like our time is up for today.”

  Wow, an hour had gone by that quickly? “Sure. I can do that.” I thanked him and picked up my bag to leave.

  He stopped me in the doorway. “Abbie.” His voice was low as he leaned forward. “You can’t photograph honestly when you’re shuttered from the world. You’ll have to open yourself and show your vulnerability to hit your true potential.”

  I tipped my chin up. “I can do that.” At least I could try. Landscapes had always been easy for me, but if he wanted to push me, then fine. I’d get some portraits done. Even as I waved goodbye, my brain was already formulating a plan for the kinds of portraits I might be able to do.

  Checking my watch again, I hurried out of the media building to meet Ilani for lunch. I’d already hit up most of the campus spots for a potential job before my meeting with Xander. Hopefully, something would come up in the next couple of days.

  My friend arrived mere seconds after I did. “So how did your meeting go with Mr. I’d-consider-a threesome-for-you Chase?”

  I barked out a laugh as Ilani and I grabbed a seat at the campus café. “Seriously, Ilani?”

  The blonde shrugged. “I’m not into girls, but if that man asked me, I’d say hell yes, whatever you want. Come on, he’s certainly worth the shag.”

  “You’re ridiculous. Have you had your meeting with him yet?”

  Ilani shook her head. “Mine’s this afternoon.”

  I eyed my friend. Ilani had gone for a short corduroy skirt and low-cut fitted sweater. “I see you dressed to impress.”

  Ilani beamed. “Well, you have to put your best assets on display and see what happens. I mean, he might have said he’s not interested, but I know for a fact he’s slept with a student before.”

  Intrigued, I leaned forward. “Really? Who?”

  Ilani glanced around surreptitiously. “She was a year ahead of me and in his undergraduate class. Rumor is she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.“

  “So what happened with her?”

  Ilani shrugged. “Well Xander is notorious. Maybe she couldn’t keep up.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, fine, she caught him with some model on a shoot and went ballistic on him.”

  “Explain ballistic.”

  “Well, rumor is that their little tryst was all about woman on top. She allegedly grabbed the model by the hair and yanked her clean off Xa
nder, then well, threatened him with bodily harm if you know what I mean.” Ilani waggled her eyebrows. “She went completely mental. Screaming and shouting that she was going to end his career. Of course, she’s the one who was carted off. He emerged unscathed.”

  That sounded like something from a soap opera. “Don’t you think if all that happened, he’d be a lot less likely to sleep with another student?”

  Ilani grinned. “Difference is I only want him for his body. I have no desire for a relationship of any kind. What about you?”

  The waitress arrived with water and took our orders.

  I shook my head. “Oh, I’m off relationships. I just got out of a bad one, and I’m not eager to repeat the experience.”

  “Oh no, I meant Xander. What do you want him for?”

  “Xander? The only thing I want from him is an excellent job recommendation, if not a job itself, by the end of the year. Other than that, he’s all yours.”

  Ilani studied me. “Are you sure about that?”

  I frowned and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “What do you mean?”

  My new friend shrugged. “It means I saw you guys in the hall earlier. It looked like he might kiss you or something.”

  I blinked. “No. He was not going to kiss me. He was busy imparting some knowledge about how I’ll need to be more vulnerable. Besides, I’m not interested. I’m staying far away from guys right now. He’s all yours.”

  “If you say so. But from where I was standing, he looked plenty interested in you.”

  The look of seriousness on Ilani’s face was the only thing keeping me from laughing out loud. “I promise you he’s not. I’m just a student to him. Besides, with that skirt on, you’re sure to catch his attention.”

  Ilani looked temporarily mollified, but then she added, “Look, all kidding aside, you seem like the kind of girl who could get hurt. I like you, and I don’t want to see that happen. Just be careful.”

  9

  Abbie…

  After my chat with Ilani, I decided to take my time and explore the city a little bit more. I'd taken the bus into town, but instead of the familiar spots I'd explored, this time I went toward Notting Hill. I figured if it was good enough for Hugh Grant and Julia Richards, it was good enough for me. What always fascinated me was how friendly people were. Every time I passed someone, I'd get a cheery, "All right?"

  I didn't think I was responding correctly though. I would smile and say ‘yes, thank you,’ but I didn't think that was the right answer because everyone always furrowed their brows and looked at me like I didn't understand what I was doing. I probably didn't. I’d have to ask Sophie or Faith what to say in response. The sun had started to set, and when I looked at my watch, it was already six. Which meant it would be dark soon, and I needed to get back.

  On some of the row homes, there had been lanterns strung across the street. My hands weren't steady enough to make that kind of shot work. So I swung the backpack off my shoulder and pulled out my tripod. With a quick setup and a little lighting assist, I captured the kind of shot that I wanted. They were beautiful and whimsical and everything I sort of thought about when I thought about London streets. Cobblestones and lanterns were what I was looking for. That vibe of fun and frivolity. Not exactly what I wanted for a masters, but God, it was what I wanted for life.

  Within another thirty minutes, the sun was well and truly making its final stand, and I pulled out my phone to look for a tube stop. I frowned when I discovered the nearest one was over half a mile away. How did I get so far off the beaten track?

  I could Uber it. But again, since I didn't exactly have a job yet, I didn't want to spend money I didn't have to. And I had my Oyster card, so might as well use it.

  As I marched along, people around me smiled and chattered. People were walking with their dogs as I made a turn on to the high street. It was busier there, and I felt a little less anxious.

  But still, I couldn't shake my niggling hyper-awareness of everything that was around me. I made another left and a right. This was the way to the tube stop, right? Shit. I pulled out my phone again and saw the five percent charge warning. I'd left my stupid spare charger at home. Damn it. I pulled out my map and frowned when I realized, yeah, I was indeed off the beaten path. I had to turn around about three more blocks, make a right, another left, and then I’d be back on the high street.

  Damn it. I turned around, but there it was again… that warning tripping up my spine and making the hair on my neck stand at attention. What was that? I glanced around, but all I saw were people in their jackets, walking their dogs, smoking cigarettes, carrying their takeout, and basically just enjoying their evening.

  Relax. You're freaking yourself out. Just keep moving.

  I made my turn, then the next one. But then I heard something behind me. When I turned, my heart beat so fast I thought it was going to explode in my chest. Who was that across the street? Had he been following me the whole time? I couldn't see the guy's face, but he was tallish, a familiar build, athletic. My skin broke out into a sweat. My heart continued to hammer. My brain was sending all the appropriate fear signals. Run. Run. Danger is coming. You better run.

  I picked up my pace and hoofed it, glad I still had some people on the street with me. Would anyone help me if I screamed?

  Or was this like America, where a young black woman might be ignored?

  No. The British are unfailingly polite. Someone will stop. Right?

  I was nearly running at that point. The booming in my head kept screaming. Run. Run. Run. Run.

  Oh God, I couldn't breathe. My breathing was short and choppy. And then I turned at just the right moment, and when the light hit his face, the breath caught in my lungs. No.

  No. No. No. No. It couldn't be him.

  Easton. It was Easton. Easton was chasing me. Easton was coming for me. Fuck.

  I broke out into a full-scale run then. I'd been an athlete in high school. It had been a while since I'd run for anything other than exercise, but they weren't kidding when they said the instinct for fight or flight takes over. I took off.

  I made my next turn blindly, not even looking. And I banged into a brick wall hard enough to toss me on my ass. Once again, I saved the camera before I saved myself.

  I tucked it to me, arms protectively around the lens, then I took the brunt of the fall on my ass and moved back, trying to keep my head up so it didn't slam on the ground. "Fuck!"

  "Jesus fucking Christ! Are you all right?"

  That voice. Why was that voice familiar?

  I laid there, probably far longer than I should have, my jeans getting wet from the puddle I'd landed in. My first concern was that my camera was okay.

  My brain gave the command to my hands, and they finally moved as I silently checked my equipment. It was fine.

  Fuck.

  I rolled up into a sitting position, trying to catch my breath, but the fear was still biting at me, telling me to get up and run. Did I dare look behind me?

  I glanced behind me, but I didn't see Easton.

  I looked over my other shoulder. Had he crossed the street? Had I missed him?

  Shit.

  Or, maybe you imagined it.

  My head started to pound, and I groaned as I looked up at the person kneeling in front of me, talking to me.

  My vision came into focus and I gasped. "Xander?"

  “Ms. Nartey?”

  "What are you doing here?"

  He chuckled low. "Well, considering you're in my neighbourhood, that's my question for you."

  "This is your neighborhood? But I left you at school a few hours ago."

  He chuckled then. "Yes, and I had some student appointments, and now I'm home. And um, only to find that my students are following me."

  I scowled then. "I am not following you. God, you're so full of it." He chuckled again.

  "I see you're feeling better. Here, let me help you out."

  I had no choice but to take his hand. My backpack and my ass we
re still in the puddle, and I still wanted to protect the camera. I let him help me up, and I groaned when I assessed the damage. "Jesus, I'm soaked. How awesome."

  Standing that close to him, I realized just how much taller than me he was. I wasn't short, but he loomed over me at over six foot two. Bloody fabulous. And he was warm.

  I could feel the heat emanating off of him. I had to resist the urge to move closer to him, because first, he was my teacher, and second, that would only serve to make him somehow more pompous. And I wasn't that girl. Faith was kidding when she said I should shag my professor. I wasn't here for that. And I didn't think he'd appreciate it.

  Oh crap, he was talking to me. I tried to focus on his words, but the fear had my heart hammering too loud.

  "Abbie? Did you hear me?"

  I winced. "Sorry. I just—I thought someone was following me. I guess I overreacted."

  His brows snapped down. "What do you mean someone was following you?"

  "I was trying to find the tube station after taking some pictures and I just, you know, I had a feeling. I'm in a strange city, it's dark, and I'm running around taking pictures. And then I got the feeling someone was following me. I know. It sounds crazy. I'm sorry. I'm going to go. I just need to breathe a minute."

  He shook his head. "No, you're coming with me."

  I blinked at him. "What?"

  "You're coming with me. I'm not going to let you run off to the tube by yourself in the dark after you've already fallen and thought someone was following you."

  I tried to shake him off. "No, I'm fine. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

  He watched me, looking as though he wanted to reach out, but I deftly avoided his touch.

  "I promise I'm fine."

  He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm saying you're not fine. Chivalry isn't dead, and besides, my mother would kill me if I didn't at least see to it that you're okay. Why don't we step into this pub, and I'll call you a cab or an Uber?"

  I didn’t want to pay for the Uber, but I didn’t want to tell him that. "Um, right. Okay."