by B.L. Wilde
Cover Design by Jo Matthews
When fate brings you face-to-face with what your heart desires, how can you ignore it?
Violet Weathers, the world’s top supermodel, is in Omaha, Nebraska for two weeks shooting a campaign for a new skincare line that she’s the fresh new face of.
When her car breaks down on the way to the hotel, she is rescued by a hot mechanic who just might make her stay in Omaha more bearable.
By nine o’clock, I had given up hope that Blake would show. He wasn’t even willing to hear me out and I was furious! I couldn’t go and find him, either, because I had no idea where he lived. Fine! If that was how he wanted to be, I wouldn’t waste any more time thinking about him…or about his lips, fingers, or amazing body…damn it!
I decided a hot shower would help to calm my nerves, and it did a little. I wanted to order a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream, but Allie would kill me because I had the shoot tomorrow.
I was lying on my bed, watching a silly old movie and eating a grilled chicken salad a few hours later when I heard someone knock on my door. Blake wouldn’t dare turn up this late, would he?
After wrapping my robe tightly around my body, I looked through the peephole to see who it was. That jerk! Blake was standing outside, running his hands through his hair nervously. I threw open the door, livid that he had the gall to show up more than three hours after he said he would. “You’re a little late, aren’t you?” I seethed.
“Violet, look, I’m sorry. Something came up.”
“And you didn’t think to call me?”
“I had to go out on an emergency call and my phone died. I came as quick as I could.” Damn, now I felt like crap. Blake did look a little flustered.
“Oh,” I squirmed, feeling like a complete idiot.
“It happens from time to time. Drew had already asked for the night off to take Sarah out, and well…I got the request just as I was about to come and see you. I thought I could call you, but then I noticed my phone had died. I really am sorry, Violet.”
“Have you eaten?” I asked, widening my door so he could come in. “I just ordered room service. You’re welcome to help yourself.”
“No. I’m starving, actually,” Blake smirked. He would have drenched my panties with his look alone, if I’d been wearing any.
I sat watching him eat my leftover salad. It was lucky I hadn’t eaten all of the bread because he quickly finished that off, too; Damn, Blake really was hungry.
“Wow, you weren’t joking about being starving, were you?” I chuckled. “I can order something else if you’re still hungry.”
“That was fine, Violet,” Blake smiled, reaching out to gently stroke my cheek. “Thank you.”
“I have a fully stocked mini bar, too.”
“The perks of being a famous supermodel, huh?” he teased, raising his perfect eyebrow.
“I guess so,” I giggled, getting up. “What do you want? A beer?”
We made small talk for a little while and Blake told me about his day before I filled him in on mine.
“What?” I asked when he laughed at me.
“Can’t you see how different our lives are? I’m telling you about oil changes and breakdowns, while you’re telling me about diamonds hanging from the ceiling in your latest commercial.”
“I’ve had my fair share of breakdowns, too,” I quipped, sipping my water.
Blake sniggered into his beer bottle. “I can imagine.”
“Are you still angry with me?” I whispered.
“No,” he sighed. “Everyone knows who you are, Violet. I can’t believe I never realized it.”
“I liked that you were just interested in me.”
“Violet,” Blake smoldered, “I’m still very interested in you.”
About the Author:B.L. Wilde is a British author obsessed with many things, including heated love stories. Supported fully by her husband, she can often be found at her desk working on her next project.
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