“While you’re at it,” Lake drawled, unbothered by Betty’s threats, “send him a picture of you in that, so he can see he has no grounds to sue anyone.”
Betty stomped over to stand in front of Lake’s table. For some reason she took a minute to adjust her boobs in her swimsuit before she spoke.
“I’ve had enough of you,” she told Lake. “You’re the worst soldier I’ve ever met. You’re soft. It’s pathetic. I’ve seen girls who can fight better than you. If you weren’t so busy swooning over her”—she cocked a thumb over her shoulder at Kirsty—”then we’d have won the war already.”
Lake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“I don’t swoon. I pursue,” Lake said, and Caroline gasped. Kirsty made a big deal out of feigning a yawn. “Doggedly,” Lake said.
“I don’t care,” Betty told him. “Do I look interested? I want to be in the show. I want to strut my stuff for Betty’s Knicker Emporium.”
“There is no Betty’s Knicker Emporium, and there won’t be any Betty either unless you get your backside back into some clothes and go home.”
Betty leaned over the table and pointed at Lake.
“You’re making me really grumpy, son,” she said before turning on her heels and stomping back out of the church hall.
Lake sighed at the back of her.
“I don’t know,” Kirsty said with fake innocence. “I think she would really add something to your show. You should pick her.”
He didn’t say anything.
Two more models later and Kirsty was ready to strip too. The heat in the room was overwhelming. She understood the need for it, but seriously wished she hadn’t worn a cashmere sweater to the auditions.
“I need to go out for a minute and get some air and a glass of water,” she told Caroline.
“I’ll come too,” Lake said.
Kirsty couldn’t stop him. He followed her through to the huge church kitchen, which was now icy cold compared to the hall. She reached into the cupboard with the glasses, got one for herself and handed one to Lake. Without a word she stood at the sink, filled the glass and drank it as though she was dying of thirst. She expected Lake to wait his turn. Instead he put his glass down on the counter and stood behind her, one hand on the sink at each side of her. Kirsty stopped drinking, her glass stilled against her lips. Every nerve ending down the back of her body was aware of him. The heat he generated was more ferocious than the heat in the hall.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured against her ear. “Caroline can pick the models. She’s going to anyway.”
Kirsty didn’t trust herself to speak. Slowly, she put her glass down on the counter. Lake’s left hand traced a line up her arm to her shoulder.
“What do you say?” he said in that low, sultry voice of his. “I can think of better things to do.”
He hooked a finger into the neck of her sweater and tugged it down. Kirsty held her breath as Lake’s kisses started from behind her left ear and worked their way towards her shoulder. Her head rolled back to give him greater access.
“I’m not interested in these women,” he told her. “I’m interested in you.”
His touch, his voice, his words—they were all conspiring to make her lose her mind. She felt herself go liquid and lean back against him. A solid wall of muscle behind her. His hands moved to her hips and slid down the outside of her skirt to her thighs. He grasped the material and started to inch it upwards. Kirsty’s eyes fluttered shut as she gripped the sink.
“What do you say?” he whispered against her ear, making her shiver with anticipation. “Want to leave with me, Kirsty?”
She groaned.
“Are you two ready to get going?” called Caroline.
Lake rested his forehead on Kirsty’s shoulder.
“She has no idea how ready I am,” he muttered.
Kirsty moved away from him and pushed her skirt back into place. Lake leaned over the sink and every fibre of her being wanted to touch him.
“Come to dinner tonight,” she told him.
Her heart was beating so loudly at the thought of it, she knew he had to hear it too.