Page 87 of Tempted To Be Mine

“She’s very perceptive.”

“That’s one word for it.” He sat on the edge of the couch, his hand finding mine inside the blanket. “I missed you today.”

“How did the shoot go?”

“Good. Great, actually. Sebastian’s happy with the location. The light was incredible. But it wasn’t the same without you there.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” I promised. “I’m already feeling better.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“I won’t. But I want to be there. I want to see you work.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “There’s something else. Sebastian set up an interview in two days. Some big fashion magazine wants to talk about the campaign with me.”

“That’s great. Good exposure.”

“Yeah, but I’d really love for you to be there. I need you to make sure I don’t say anything stupid.”

I laughed. “You won’t say anything stupid.”

“You have more faith in me than I do.” He squeezed my hand. “So? Will you come?”

“Of course. I’m sure I’ll feel better by then.”

He looked relieved. “Good. Now, have you eaten anything?”

“Some soup. Not much.”

“I’m making you dinner. Real food. No arguments.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. I listened to him move around and it wasn’t long before the place smelled amazing. This man, this beautiful, successful, ridiculous man, was making me dinner because I didn’t feel well.

Jeremy returned with a plate of pasta and a glass of water. He sat beside me while I ate, telling me about his day and the shots they’d captured.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jeremy said when I’d finished eating. “Not just for work. I’m glad you’re here with me. I feel bad that I dragged you over here, though, since you’re not feeling well.”

“I wanted to come. And I’m okay.” The nausea had faded. The exhaustion was still there, but it felt manageable now. Survivable. Tomorrow I’d be back to my normal self.

“Thank you,” I murmured against his shoulder. “For taking care of me. For being patient. For all of it.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Always.”

I closed my eyes and let myself believe him.

30

JEREMY

Ihelped Lucy up from the couch, keeping my arm around her waist as we climbed the stairs. She leaned into me, her body soft and warm against me. The exhaustion was written all over her face. There were dark shadows under her eyes and she looked pale.

“I can walk on my own,” she protested.

“I know you can. But why would you when you have me?”

She smiled. I guided her into my bedroom and pulled back the covers. We both knew she was going to end up in my bed. She looked rumpled and tired and absolutely beautiful.

I tucked the blankets around her, smoothing them over her shoulders the way my mother used to do when I was sick as a kid. Lucy’s eyes were already closing, her breathing starting to slow.