Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

The day before, when they’d run test shots on the beach, he’d been nervous. So when Heather suggested they grab dinner afterward, he readily agreed, thinking it might make him more comfortable when it came time for the real thing.

“It’s like acting,” she’d told him, while they were waiting for their food to arrive. “It’s like we’re telling a story. In this particular tale, we’re playing the parts of two young lovers enjoying a sultry, romantic day on the beach. I’m sure you’ve had your share of those, so if you feel stuck, just channel that.” She’d hooked him with a gaze so direct he found himself flushing and fidgeting and looking away. “The idea is to lose yourself in the role until you become the character and it starts to feel real,” she’d concluded, as though it were really that easy.

By the time their food arrived, Mateo stared at his in despair, which made Heather laugh.

“You wanted pizza, I know. But we both have too much riding on this to show up looking bloated and puffy. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

Mateo had grudgingly dug into a bowl of what Heather convinced him was mostly protein, and while he thought for sure he’d hate it, he had to admit it wasn’t half-bad. Besides, it was good just to be out of his element for a change, to escape his usual routine. Lately most of his meals were eaten in the hospital cafeteria or in a hurry at home while leaning over the kitchen sink.

After spending the last two years with Layla, who mostly survived on copious amounts of coffee, it was amusing to watch Heather break down the nutritional content of a meal like some kind of calorie-counting savant. Still, despite his foray into the modeling world, he loved pizza and burritos far too much to ever adopt the weird food obsessions that were part and parcel of the Hollywood set. And he certainly wouldn’t be joining the three-month waiting list to secure a table at the newest it restaurant, which reportedly offered a full menu of raw foods, followed by a variety of colonics in place of dessert.

The dinner really had helped put him at ease, until he’d arrived on set and he became the focus of so much unadulterated scrutiny, forced to listen in as the crew discussed his various attributes as though he wasn’t actually standing right there before them.

He wanted to bolt. Wanted to get the hell out of there and never return. Problem was, he had an awful lot riding on this, and no plan B to fall back on.

“You two look great. Really, really great!” Heidi circled them with her camera.

She seemed sincere, but Mateo was still tense. The moment was his to either make or break.

“Just . . .”

Uh-oh. Mateo stole a quick peek at Heather, whose expression remained open yet serene, giving nothing away.

“I need to see a little more intimacy.”

Mateo froze. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the word, it was that he didn’t understand it in relation to him, and Heather, and the shoot they were currently immersed in.

Heidi motioned for them to inch closer, and the next thing he knew Heather had centered herself before him. Her lips parted and pressing toward his, she cupped a soft hand to his cheek and whispered, “Shhh . . . just follow my lead and don’t stop until they tell us to.”

He nodded imperceptibly, and when her mouth found his he did as instructed: he followed her lead.

Her arms circled his neck as he gripped her at the waist and dragged her up against him.

At first, he felt self-conscious, all too aware of his kissing prowess being scrutinized by a group of people he desperately needed to impress. But as Heather entwined her leg with his and a soft groan sounded from deep in her throat, the crew seemed to blur until it was just the two of them, exploring, playing, inciting the kind of sensations he hadn’t experienced since Layla.

He kissed Heather harder, deeper, and with an urgency that surprised him. Why did this feel so easy, so good? Why wasn’t he racked with the kind of guilt he expected to feel? He’d loved Layla. Loved her with his whole body and soul. So the realization that he could move on so quickly came with a jolt. Still, he was human, and the body had a mind of its own. And at the moment, his body was reacting in the usual way when a pretty girl was pressed up against him. While he didn’t pretend to love Heather Rollins, he definitely was enjoying the moment. The feel of her lips on his as she crushed her breasts hard against his chest left him wishing it would ne

ver end.

With his hands buried in her soft tangle of hair, it took him a moment to realize Heidi had called “Cut!” a while ago.

“There’s no denying you two have chemistry,” Heidi said, squinting at the viewfinder and scrolling through the shots she’d just taken.

Mateo stood beside Heather, feeling breathless, embarrassed, and totally surprised by how much he’d enjoyed that.

“Mateo, you were perfect. A little stiff in the beginning, but you found your groove eventually.”

Heather grabbed his hand and gave his fingers a squeeze.

“I’ll go over these in the studio before I send them on to the magazine, but Mateo, I’d love to work with you again. I think you have a future in this, if you’re interested. You’ll need a portfolio, of course, but I’m more than willing to help you with that.”

“He should probably get an agent too, then,” Heather said, shooting a shrewd look between Heidi and him that left him feeling more like a spectator than a player.

Heidi nodded distractedly, already turning away and instructing the crew to clean up the set, they were done for the day.

An assistant tossed Mateo his T-shirt, and he yanked it over his head as Heather ducked behind a screen to swap the bikini she’d worn for the dress she’d arrived in.

“Well done.” She grinned, and placing a hand on either of his shoulders she kissed him once on each check but purposely avoided his lips, which left him feeling simultaneously disappointed and relieved. “I can help you find an agent, if you want. Because trust me, you definitely want someone looking after your interests.”