Page 2 of Tempted To Be Mine

I hung up. He knew better than to ignore my calls during a shoot. I tried again. Same result.

Fine. Text it was.

Me: Where are you? Sebastian needs you on set.

I watched the screen. Delivered. No typing bubbles. No response.

I waited thirty seconds that felt like thirty minutes, then typed again.

Me: Jeremy. Answer me.

Nothing.

I clenched my jaw. Thanks to Jeremy, I would need dentures by forty with as much as he had me grinding my teeth. I typed one more message, my thumbs hitting the screen harder than necessary.

Me: If you’re ignoring me, I’m going to make you regret it. And you know I’m creative.

Still nothing.

I grabbed my laptop and shoved it into my bag, abandoning my perfect shady spot by the pool. So much for getting any work done today.

I headed up to his suite, passing tropical plants that smelled like hibiscus and water features glittering in the sun in open-air atriums. When I finally arrived at his door my breathing was clipped and my cheeks felt hot.

I knocked. “Jeremy? It’s Lucy. Open up.”

Silence.

I knocked again, harder. “I know you’re probably in there with company,” I said. “But I don’t care. Sebastian needs you downstairs.”

More silence.

I pulled out my phone and called the front desk. This wasn’t my first rodeo. The room was booked under my name to protect my celebrity client. I never invaded his personal space, but there had been a time or two I needed to wake his ass up. My name. My room.

A minute later, I had a staff member opening the door for me. “Thank you.” I tipped him a twenty.

I opened the door and shielded my eyes. I’d learned the hard way Jeremy slept in the nude, now that he didn’t sleep in socks. And if he wasn’t sleeping, he was probably doing something else with someone else. Both parties nude. Another lesson learned the hard way.

“Jeremy, stop what you’re doing. Or wake up.”

Nothing.

I popped one eye open like that would somehow lessen the trauma. The room was empty. The bed was made. His suitcase was open on the luggage rack, clothes spilling out of it in typical Jeremy fashion. His phone charger was plugged into the wall but no phone was attached.

So he wasn’t here ruining the sheets for housekeeping like I’d suspected. But it also meant he could be anywhere. If he was in someone else’s room, I’d never be able to track him down without causing a scene. And I was running out of time.

I pocketed Jeremy’s room key in case I lost him again and hurried out of the room to the lobby. Maybe I could GPS his ass. That’d make my life easier.

Now genuinely panting, I scanned the luxurious lobby and once again found no Jeremy. I checked the hotel restaurant and the bar and came up empty handed.

There was zero chance I’d find him in the gym, but I looked anyway.

“Sonofabitch,” I hissed.

This guy. This was the part of my awesome job that sucked. Tracking down a man that seemed determined to get lost.

I moved to the massive patio off the back of the lobby and stopped at the railing to stare out at the beach. The sand stretched to the pier in the distance. The Ferris wheel was doing its thing. The beach was dotted with umbrellas and sunbathers. It was beautiful. Postcard perfect.

It was also not meant for walking in heels.