Sweet Promise (The Grahams Book 1) Read online

  I sat for a moment, mindlessly thumbing through my phone. A few minutes later, a pretty, petite woman with a European accent I couldn’t quite identify walked through the door. “Hi, I’m Iliana – you must be Georgia?” The woman thrust a small hand out to shake mine.

  “Hi, Iliana,” I replied, shaking her hand. Her smile was warm and genuine, and I felt immediately at ease with her.

  “Please, sit. We will get started.” I sat in the chair facing the vanity, and Iliana produced a cape that she wrapped around my neck. “I’m going to take off your makeup first, then we will start.” Iliana pinned my hair back and used a foamy cleanser to remove my makeup. Her soft hands massaged my face and throat in little circles until every trace of cosmetic was gone. The process was relaxing, and my shoulders began to fall a bit as some of the tension slipped away. Iliana first applied primer, then the heavy, studio foundation. Her application was expert, the subtle cat-eye liner, big, full, lashes, and pouty pink lip all coming together beautifully. I tried to make a note of what she had done so I could try to duplicate the look, I liked it so well. She pulled off the cape, and gently brushed the blonde hair back into place around my face.

  “Your skin is like porcelain,” Iliana said admiring her work, “you are lovely – easy to work with. I enjoyed it. Hopefully, we will work together again soon!” She smiled kindly.

  Just then, the green room door burst open. Two men walked in, the tallest of the pair immediately scooped Iliana up into his arms. “Hello, gorgeous! It’s been too long!” He twirled her around, and she squealed with delight. As he spun her, I saw his face, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach when I realized who it was.

  “Lucas! So good to see you! How are you, my darling?” Iliana clearly knew him well.

  “Better seeing you! Are you still married to that lucky bastard, or have I finally got a shot? Hmm?” He patted her on the backside playfully.

  “Yes, still married to the handsome stuntman, I’m afraid.” She smiled. “Come now, let’s get you ready, ya?”

  I stood up, understanding that Iliana would need the chair. I was a little taken aback, standing in the same room with Lucas Nash in person. As he stepped forward, he took notice of me and put his hand out, meeting my eyes. “You must be Georgia,” he said, “What a charming name. I’m Lucas,” I put my hand out to shake his and instead, he grasped my hand and kissed the back of it, making heat rise to my cheeks. “Lucas Nash. I’m so looking forward to working with you,” he said, looking me up and down in a way that felt both flattering and dirty at the same time.

  “Thanks, I’m really excited to be here. I’ve admired your work such a long time.” I felt self-conscious but wanted to be honest about my admiration. He was far more handsome in person than I anticipated, and his sex appeal was off the charts. He was big, with broad muscular shoulders and a trim waist, and he was tall – taller than Rome – so he towered over me. His eyes were the deepest blue I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even feel guilty about the damp spot growing in my panties just from being near him. He winked in response to my compliment and plopped down in the makeup chair confidently. The look he gave me made my insides quiver.

  Before Iliana had a chance to put the cape on, he leaned forward, and pulled his t-shirt off over his head, sitting in the chair shirtless. Holy shit, he’s beautiful! The photos I had seen didn’t come close to doing him justice. I couldn’t help but admire his muscular arms and sculpted torso. I was looking at the reflection of his body in the mirror as Iliana popped the cape in the air and swirled it around him. I realized, as I was looking at him in the mirror that he was watching my reflection. I immediately turned crimson and dropped my head, mortified with embarrassment. I’d forgotten the other man had entered the room with Lucas until he sat beside me on the sofa.

  “Hi,” he said softly, gently putting his hand forward, “I’m John. John Abel. So nice to meet you. Please excuse my friend for undressing like that. He must’ve forgotten his manners back in London.” He smiled at me sweetly, and I appreciated the kindness, chuckling a little in response. He had a thick, polished British accent, just like Lucas’.

  “Nice to meet you, John. I’m Georgia.” I wasn’t sure what the relationship was between the two men, but they were apparently close. John was tall, though not as tall as Lucas, and had a trimmer build without as much bulk. His hair was a dark strawberry blonde. The most striking thing about John, though, was the easy smile that made little creases break at the corner of his soft, green eyes. Something was soothing about him.

  “I’m a big fan, actually.” He leaned in a little as he said it as if he hadn’t wanted Lucas to hear him.

  “Really? You’ve seen my show?” Even though I was a star by the network’s standards, I was still just a little shocked when someone said they had seen me on television, as if I had forgotten that the shows I filmed were meant to be seen.

  “Yeah, we get it on Sky back home. It’s really great.” He replied. Something was appealing in his manner of speaking that made me feel instantly comfortable with him.

  Iliana finished Lucas’ makeup, and he stood to find a shirt to wear. He walked to the clothing rack where our things were hanging, and found a long-sleeved chambray shirt with snaps, pulling it on.

  “Okay, darlings, I will see you again soon, maybe. You look good together. I think the shoot will go well, ya? Good luck to you both!” Iliana gave each of us a hug and an air kiss on each cheek and left.

  “So,” Lucas said, standing in front of me, still buttoning his shirt, “You’re the baker, are you? What have they told you about this gig, exactly?” I looked up at him from my spot on the couch. He had high cheekbones and a defined jaw that bore just the right amount of stubble to be incredibly sexy. His deep blue eyes shone from under full brows, and his chin had the slightest hint of a cleft in it. His hair was brown with little glints of copper that shone where the overhead light glinted off of it. The style was a bit spikey at the front and combined with the color, it reminded me of a wild creature of some kind - a fox, perhaps. I had met celebrities since I’d been working for the network and saw country singers around town back home, but I’d never met anyone who oozed celebrity and pure heat like him.

  “Yeah, I guess I am the baker. My show’s called Sweet, Georgia! And you’re a chef. I’ve watched your shows since I was a little girl. I bet I’ve got all your cookbooks.” I was nervous and afraid I was gushing. I was taken aback as John let a snicker escape, seeming to hold in a full-blown laugh.

  “Little girl, eh?” He stepped forward and towered over me. “How old are you, then?” He had one eyebrow arched up skeptically.

  “Twenty,” I replied, feeling my credibility disintegrating by the moment. I stood, trying to muster a power pose to get my confidence back. I had a job to do, after all, and if I was going to let Lucas Nash shake me within minutes of meeting him, I was never going to get through so much as the audition.

  “Mm, twenty, my oh my!” He looked me up and down in a way that made me feel exposed. “Well, I started cooking when I was twenty, and won the Michelin Star when I was twenty-two.” He put one hand to his hip, shifting his weight, and scratched his chin with the other. “Let’s take a look at you.” He took me by the hand and twirled me around. I complied, though I wasn’t sure why. “Very, very nice. Okay, let’s have a chat, shall we? John, excuse us for a moment.”

  “Lucas, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, not moving from his seat.

  “Funny – I didn’t think that was a request, mate,” Lucas replied waving his hand toward the door without ever turning away from me.

  John stood and looked at me, then back to his friend. “I’ll be just outside that door,” he said, walking out and shutting the door gently behind him.

  Lucas walked around me in a circle, again looking me up and down. I felt like a gazelle in front of a hungry lion, that was if the gazelle was excited by the idea of being consumed. He stopped to face me and brushed a strand of hair behind my
ear. “Okay, look, let’s get this sorted, yeah? Tasha says you’re just what I need to get back on track.”

  “I’m sorry, what?!” I wasn’t exactly sure what he might have meant, but the tension between us was palpable. I could feel my breathing growing heavier. I took him in as he looked me over. The masculine build, the smoldering, deep blue eyes, and lips I wanted to taste were almost too much. Having him in such close proximity was both exciting and nerve-wracking. I could feel my temperature rising as every nerve was on high alert.

  “The show, darling, do try to keep up.” He shook his head slightly as if perplexed by my lack of understanding. “I need this gig to get the attention off of my recent public humiliations. I’m certain you’ve heard about them. Stumbling out of bars at three in the morning, the unfortunate three-way with two cocktail waitresses who shared flattering but unseemly photos of me in a compromised position, and worst of all, having my young bride cheat on me, quite publicly, with a French financier. A Frenchman!” He emphasized the last word, rolling his eyes with an air of disgust. “The network is looking for chemistry. Banter. Sexual tension, that sort of thing.” He stepped closer to me. He was so close I could smell his cologne, woodsy and masculine. He even smelled sexy. It was beyond frustrating. I tipped my head back to look up at him. “I’m happy to see that my potential co-star is going to make flirting very easy for me. Do you see a problem with giving the people want they want?” He scanned my face, his lips so close to mine, I could almost taste them.

  My throat suddenly felt as if it were lined with cotton. I tried to clear it and replied. “N-no, I don’t. It’s…just part of the job.” My heart was pounding out of my chest, but I steeled myself and straightened up. “And just so you know, I need this gig just as much as you do.”

  “America’s sweetheart doesn’t have a brand problem from what I hear. What’s your story then?” He raised one eyebrow again.

  “I don’t suppose that’s any of your business, but the paycheck from this show will help my family out a lot, so I don’t have the luxury of screwin’ it up,” I smirked a little and crossed my arms, trying to muster some false bravado, and he grinned in response.

  “Well, that’s certainly good to know,” he replied. “This might work out for both of us then, yeah? We might just have formed a beautiful partnership, Georgia.” Just as he said it, the door opened. John walked in followed by Claudia.

  “Hello, Lucas,” Claudia said as he turned. “So good of you to make it on such short notice,” she leaned up and kissed him on one cheek and then the other, and he did the same. “You chose the shirt I had in mind for you, I see.”

  “I do know what you like, Claudia,” a wink accompanied the innuendo, and they both laughed. I didn’t love being on the outside of the inside joke.

  “Shall we go get started?” She led Lucas and me to the soundstage with John in tow. The soundstage had three small vignettes set up around it. One was a bright, sunny kitchen setup, another was a convertible in front of a green screen, and the third was another green screen with a ladder, surrounded by crates with stickers made to look like import stamps of various countries. “Let’s start in the kitchen, shall we?”

  CHAPTER 4

  Lucas

  Georgia Graham was nothing short of stunning in person. I expected a beauty with a fantastic figure when I saw her photo. I wasn’t quite prepared for how the combination came together in such a compelling package. She is most definitely not your average television beauty, I thought. She stood toe-to-toe with me, though. She didn’t show signs of being intimidated by me when I sized her up, for a start. There was something about her that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She seemed…real.

  Georgia and I were directed behind the counter and given a few minutes to get comfortable with the space and props. A man came from behind the camera and introduced himself as the director, Ian Bishop. I had heard his name around but hadn’t worked with him before. “Now, remember, we want to get an idea of how much chemistry you two have on screen. I’m going to have them load the Teleprompters, and you interact with each other using the dialog provided. Improv a little if you feel like it – whatever comes naturally. Got it?”

  We stood side-by-side, and we began reading the dialog that was provided. Georgia was stiff – nervous. Each time I tried to lean in, she stepped aside as if she were in my way. Looking over at the network executives in the directors’ chairs behind the camera, both she and I could tell we were losing them. The director cut the take at my request. “Ian, could we get ten please? John, could you find me some paracetamol or something? I’ve got a splitting headache. That was a long flight, and I’m feeling a bit dehydrated.”

  “Sure thing,” Ian said. “John, the first aid kit’s right around the corner there. If you don’t see what you need, we’ll have someone run it down.” John nodded and walked off in the direction Ian had pointed.

  Georgia leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed, and looked toward the ceiling. She seemed angry with herself. It wasn’t the type of performance they were looking for, and she knew it. I took a swig of water and stood next to her, putting one hand beside her on the counter as I faced her.

  “Look, it’s not that hard,” I whispered as I leaned in close. “It’s not like this is your first time.” I grinned and could see her holding in a smile. “Have some fun with it. Remember, they want some chemistry. Flirt with me a little…or do you find me so repulsive that it poses a problem?” The more I looked at her, the more I liked her. I was definitely planning to get in there.

  “No! Not at all!” She responded without taking a moment to think. “I mean…” she stopped short, and the corners of her lips turned up as her cheeks turned crimson. It was fucking adorable.

  I gave her a hearty laugh. “Well, in case you can’t tell, I find you pretty easy on the eyes too, you know.” I winked at her, and she smiled as her shoulders dropped and her posture softened. “Relax, darling, it’s not serious, it’s just television.”

  “I know. I don’t know why I’m so nervous!” She said with a sigh as she stomped her foot in frustration.

  “Turn around, and look at that monitor,” I said. She turned so that her back was to me. My hand was still on the counter next to her, just outside of her hip. I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Look at you. You’re gorgeous. We look fucking fantastic together,” I said. “Every woman watching this show will want to be you, and every guy – every straight one, at least – will want to be me when they see us together. You’re dead sexy, but you hold that part of yourself back. Let it go, and we’ll both get what we need.”

  I rubbed my palm lightly along her back at the waist as we moved forward for the next take. She cast a sideways glance at me under those dark, arched brows of hers, and her lips curled up just a little. “Shall we try to warm things up a bit, then?” I asked her.

  “Yeah…I think I got it.” She smiled nervously, stealing a glance up and down my body as she got into position for the take.

  Before we started the next take, I said, “Guys, I’ve got an idea. Can we get Georgia working a recipe, and let me be doing some prep? She needs something to do with her hands – something camera friendly that is – don’t you sweetheart?” I smiled at her, and the assembled group all laughed except for John who just rolled his eyes.

  “Great call, Luc,” Ian replied. “Somebody get the strawberry tart recipe up on the Teleprompter. Let’s roll everyone. Georgia, take it from the top with the recipe.”

  “Got it!” She replied, decidedly, looking more like the star she was.

  This was her wheelhouse. She was used to cooking alone, after all. She began chopping some strawberries and read from the teleprompter. “Summer is the best time of year for strawberries,” she smiled at the camera, her pretty face animated as she spoke. Her thick, Southern accent dripped with sweetness. It drove me nuts. I had to concentrate to keep from getting an obvious hard-on. As she busied herself removing the stems from the berries, and hel
d one up to the camera, she said, “Just look at how plump and ripe these are.” It killed. I took her cue, though, and quickly stepped behind her, putting an arm around one shoulder and leaning over the other.

  “Give us a taste, then,” I said. At that moment, she got it – realized what I was doing and played along in perfect time. She smiled playfully and held the berry up for me. I took the berry with my teeth, sucking the fruit into my mouth. “Mm, now that’s sweet,” I said winking into the camera as I chewed. She took the thumb she had held the strawberry with into her mouth and sucked the little bit of red juice left behind there, her lips making a smacking sound. I am incredibly jealous of that thumb, I thought. I saw Cate, Paul, and Claudia leaning into each other, whispering and nodding and I took it as a good sign.