It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone without sleep before a shoot. She’d done late shoots the night before an early shoot and she’d always managed just fine. Maybe not three-hours-of-sleep fine, but she’d done okay.

Today, though, she was sore and tender, and Carlos had asked her about a couple of suspicious “marks” on her body he’d had to cover up with body makeup.

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” he’d asked with mock horror and a knowing smile.

She’d slapped her hand to her neck. “I do not have a hickey. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Though she had recalled, in the fuzzy part of her brain that was semi functioning, that maybe Grant had sucked on her neck while he was moving deep inside of her.

She hadn’t minded at the time. In fact, she recalled that particular maneuver had made her come pretty hard.

Just the thought of it had her tightening all over.

“Quit flushing,” Carlos had said, which had gotten him started all over again about staying up too late and how hard he was going to have to work to mask the effects of her partying.

“I assure you, I was not partying.”

“Well, whatever you did into the wee hours of last night, it’s all over your face. And, apparently, your neck.”

She knew he was baiting her for details, which would not be forthcoming.

The shoot had gone well so far, despite her exhaustion. She was a professional. It didn’t matter if she was tired or sick or whatever, she’d suck it up and do her job. They’d done two sets of shoots today—one by herself and one with bridesmaids. Next up was a change of outfits and they were going to do a shoot with her and a groom.

“I’m looking for—oh, there you are. They said you’d be in here.”

She looked up at the sound of Grant’s voice.

She was shocked to see him there. “What are you doing here?”

“Practice ended early today, so I thought I’d pop in and check you out.”

He looked good in jeans and a white short-sleeved T-shirt. He was tan, his hair looked freshly showered, reminding her of their escapade—okay, more than one—in the shower last night.

“Your face is flushing again, Katrina,” Carlos said. “And who might this be?”

“Carlos Zenera, this is Grant Cassidy.”

Grant came over and shook Carlos’s hand.

Carlos gave Grant an up-and-down critical examination.

“Are you the hickey guy?”

Grant frowned, then glanced down at Katrina. “I gave you a hickey?”

Carlos stepped behind her. “No use denying it now, honey. Hot stuff has confessed.”

She was mortified.

“Also, oh my God,” Carlos whispered at her back. “Well done.”

Now everyone was going to know about her and Grant, because when you sat in the makeup chair, Carlos gossiped about everyone he knew and what and who they were doing.

“So you came to see Katrina?” Carlos asked Grant. “How do you two know each other?”

Katrina got up. “I need to go get dressed. Take a walk with me,” she said to Grant. She kissed Carlos on the cheek. “Thank you for the makeup fix. We’ll chat later.”

“You can bet on it,” Carlos said, giving her the fingers to the eyes and back as she walked away.

Grant laid his hand on the small of her back as they walked, his touch burning through the thin material of her silk robe.

They walked down the hallway toward the dressing area.

“So … a hickey, huh?”

He couldn’t look more pleased with himself.

Men.

“You cannot tell anyone about us.”

He arched a brow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“Because you just … can’t. That’s why.”

He folded his arms over each other. “So I’m okay to fuck, but not bring out in public?”

She hurriedly looked around. “Oh, my God. Why would you think that?”

He laughed. “Relax. I know you’re working. I just wanted to watch since I had some free time. If you need me to leave, I can cut out.”

He was taking this so well. Probably a lot better than she would have if he’d said to her what she’d just said to him. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. “No. It’s okay. You can stay. Though frankly, I think you’ll find it boring. There’s a lot of standing around and resetting for the shoots. Well, you know. You’ve done this kind of thing before.”

“I don’t mind. And if I get bored, I’ll take off.”

She nodded. “All right. I have to go get dressed. My next shot is by the building. You’ll see us.”

“I think I can handle it.”

She went and met the staff, who dressed her, then her assistant led her outside.

“We’re ready for you, Katrina,” the photographer said. “I need you and Elliott here.”

She’d worked with Elliott before on other shoots. He was professional, always showed up on time and he sometimes brought his wife along to the exotic locations to take vacations. He was a really nice guy.

She smiled at him. “How’s it going?”

“Good. I just have the shoot today, then Sharma and I are heading out to St. Thomas.”

“Oh, such a great place for a shoot. I’m jealous.”

He grinned as they turned to face each other according to the photographer’s directions. “Yeah. We’re finally ready to settle down and make a baby, so I figure that’s the perfect place. I only shoot for three days, then we’re taking a week extra for ‘us’ time.”