Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (free biff chip and kipper ebooks .txt) 📕

“Like what?” he asked, swimming circles around her.

“Playful, wild, sexy.”

“Yeah?” What he said next surprised them both. “I think I love you, period.”

Nina stared at him, blinking. Drops of water clung to her long lashes. She was stunningly beautiful. Julian took a deep breath, pacing himself before he did something crazy like propose marriage.

She swam to him and wrapped her limbs around his body like an octopus, gripping tight. He held her close and they bobbed in the water, the sun hard on their shoulders. She whispered in his ear, “You only think you do?”

Looking for a way to avoid the question, he kissed the spot where a vein pulsed at her neck.

She shivered despite the heat. “Let me know when you’re sure. Okay?”

He slipped a hand into her bikini bottom. “Let me know when you’re close.”

They were going to do playful, wild and sexy things all day. That was the plan.

* * *

Nina was overwhelmed with emotion. When she felt like this (but when had she ever felt like this?), the impulse to write was strong. Only, she could not find her journal. It had been missing for weeks. She was pretty sure she’d left it in New York. But what to do in the meantime? She was so methodical and hated to start a new journal before filling the pages of an old one.

They stopped for a late lunch at a seafood shack. The place was nearly empty. Over conch fritters and beer, they talked awhile. When Julian left for the men’s room, Nina borrowed a pen from the waitress and jotted on the back of a paper menu.

Journal Entry

It’s love. It’s love. It’s love.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

On the first day of October, Julian gathered the full cast at Sand Castle for the first read-through. With Grace’s blessing, they’d taken over the hotel. She gave them permission to film a total of five scenes on-site and to use the cigar room for rehearsals and meetings through preproduction. The offer, however, wasn’t without conditions. Frank had promised to throw a blowout wrap party on-site.

The cigar room, or Knight’s Landing, as Nina called it, was fitted with a long buffet table to accommodate the cast and production staff. Julian stood at the head of the table to welcome them all. Before he uttered a word, he glanced down at Nina, seated to his right, and she nodded her encouragement. They’d been on this journey together since the start. She might be the only person in the room who saw through his mask of self-confidence, and that was saying something considering an ex-girlfriend was present.

Julian cleared his throat. “Everyone, welcome to our first table read.”

The cinematographer, who had flown in from New Hampshire a few days early to “get some fishing in,” raised his hand. Eyeing the custom humidors built into the walls, he said, “Will you be handing out cigars at the end of the day?”

Everyone laughed, and the ice wall of tension rising in him shattered. Every person at the table was a seasoned professional. If he could trust them and the process—if he could trust himself—things might work out.

“My writing partner, Nina, and I have a clear vision for this film, and we hope it’s one you share. We’ve labored over every word and, for that reason, I ask that you keep to the script as much as possible. Outside that, as a director, I’m interested in the choices you’ll make to bring these characters to life. Pierce, thank you for playing our charismatic con man. You’re the man for the job.” More laughter erupted. “And, Bettina…” Julian turned to face the woman who had shaped his past and who had a role in his future. But no sooner than he’d said her name, the general mood flattened. It was all the proof he needed to confirm his suspicions. Everyone, excluding Nina, doubted they could work together. He had to address those doubts head-on. “There’s no one else I would have wanted to play Amanda. You were my first and only choice. I thank you for trusting me.”

All eyes were on Bettina now. She never wasted an opportunity to shine. Addressing the room, she said, “Guys, you may not know this, but Julian and I have a bit of history.” Her words were met with the low rumble of laughter. “I can vouch for him. We’re in capable hands. Plus we’ve got a great script. And let’s be honest, shooting in Miami isn’t exactly a hardship. So, let’s do this. Okay?”

Julian met and kept her gaze for a brief moment, hoping to communicate his gratitude. She lowered her eyes and studied her impeccably manicured nails, code that she was ready to move on. Julian clasped his hands together. “We’ve got twenty-eight days to wrap this up. Let’s do this.”

He lowered himself in his seat and straightaway reached for Nina’s hand under the table. She mingled her fingers with his. As things stood, Julian was hopeful that he and Bettina would crack on and get the job done. But he was certain that he and Nina had a future.

Julian flipped open his copy of the script. “‘Day. Pool. Amanda floats on her back. The man who spent the night approaches, fully dressed, and tells her that he’s leaving. Amanda swims to the pool’s edge.’”

The actor read his lines. “‘Gotta go, babe. Let’s do this again soon.’”

Bettina read hers with the perfect mix of flirtatiousness and arrogance. “‘But not too soon. Okay?’”

* * *

At the first break, Nina had excused herself and left the room. When she didn’t return, Julian delayed starting up again and went after her. Something about her rod-stiff posture when she’d walked out made him worry. He found her sitting alone in the garden, silently sobbing. He rushed to her.

“What’s the matter, love?” he said, kneeling before her. “Why are you crying?”

She spoke through her hands. “I’m not crying.”

“Then what’s all this?”

“I don’t know.”

He pried her hands away from her face and lifted her chin