Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
But she swept past me, and I followed her to the edge of the pool. “I’ll give you a head start,” I offered, tongue in cheek. “For the, ah, height challenge.”
“Don’t bother,” she almost snarled, making me grin again. “On three.”
She counted, and we were off. Slicing through the water, both of us doing the breaststroke. I liked to swim and was decent, but the small woman beside me was part fish. She belonged in the water and churned through the laps as if they were nothing. In fact, she was leaning against the side of the pool, waiting with a smirk when I touched the edge at the end.
“I won.” She playfully splashed me.
“Hey,” I protested. “Bad sportsmanship.” I splashed back.
The next thing I knew, we were having a water fight. Two adults acting like children, splashing, laughing, ducking, weaving. I felt free and light. Caught up in the moment. I dove under the water, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close to me as I broke the surface. I held her arms to her sides, rendering her incapable of splashing me. “Gotcha.”
Our eyes met and locked. The air around us changed, going from playful to intense in the blink of an eye. My throat felt thick, and I had to swallow. It seemed as if my air intake was being cut off, and I had to force my lungs to work. Mila’s breathing picked up, her eyes like saucers in her face. Who moved first, I didn’t know, but suddenly, my mouth was on hers, her full lips opening under the pressure of mine, and I was kissing her.
I hauled her as tight to me as I could, the feel of her in my arms perfection. The taste of her was unique. Minty, sweet, life-affirming. My tongue slid along hers, and she whimpered, touching her tongue to mine in a hesitant yet sexy way. I groaned as I explored her, wanting more. Wanting my tongue as deep inside her mouth as possible. Needing her body pressed against mine as tightly as I could. I wanted to embed her into my skin. Devour her until I forgot about anything else. Until I could taste her from memory.
Except, she suddenly broke away, pushing from me. Her breathing was deep, matching my harsh gasps of air.
I reached for her, but she escaped my hands and headed for the edge of the pool. Once again, she grabbed her robe and rushed away, leaving me behind. There was something oddly familiar about her retreating figure. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But I was certain I had seen it before. More than once.
Perplexed, I let her go, somehow knowing I had to. Hating every second, but certain we would meet again.
It felt like destiny.
I tried not to laugh at the word.
Destiny was what happened to other people.
Right?
MILA
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, touching my lips with a trembling hand.
He kissed me.
Nicholas Scott.
He kissed me and held me tight in the pool, his passion and desire evident.
And I kissed him back.
Me. Mila Morrison. I kissed the object of every fantasy I’d ever had, and he had no idea who I was.
I was the girl in the pool.
Not the writer of the character he would play in the film.
Not the little gofer he ordered around earlier.
I was just the girl in the pool who teased him.
I wondered how he would react when he realized they were all the same person.
A knock at my door brought me out of my musings, and I answered it, smiling at Andi.
“Hi. Almost ready.”
“You look tired.”
I shrugged, brushing off her words. “Up early. I didn’t sleep much either. Huge scene playing in my head.”
She frowned. “You need to stay rested.”
I shut my eyes at the worry in her voice. “I’m fine.”
I reached for the hoodie, then paused. “It’s just a casual breakfast, right?”
“Yes. We’re having breakfast with Amber at the studio, then we’ll drop by the set for a bit, and tomorrow you get introduced.” She grinned. “You can wear your hoodie today and be incognito, but tomorrow, you are A.M. Archer.”
I was wearing a pretty T-shirt and capris, but I felt better with my hoodie over top. I knew tomorrow would be different and part of me was dreading it, but it was the reason I’d come, so it had to happen.
I pulled on the soft cotton but left it open. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and sighed. “Okay. Ready.”
We were quiet on the drive to the studio. We met with the director, Amber, and I liked her right away.
“Mila or Amelia?” she asked. “Which do you prefer?”
“Mila,” I responded. “My family only says Amelia if I’m in trouble.”
She chuckled. “Gotcha.”
Amber had breakfast catered in her office, and we discussed various aspects of the film, the locations, and her vision.