The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

She looked at Maks, casual in dark jeans, top and jacket. His jaw was stubbled, as if he hadn’t been bothered to shave that day. It made him look more dangerous. Sexy.

She helped herself to another small doughnut. ‘So, where to now?’

She was surprised at how much she enjoyed just spending time with Maks. He was easy company for someone who made her insides knot with need whenever he looked at her.

‘I thought we could—’ He broke off and picked his ringing mobile phone out of an inside pocket. He answered it. ‘Yes?’ He frowned. ‘Okay, tell Pierre I’ll be right there.’

‘What’s up?’ Zoe asked.

Maks made a face. ‘I have to go to the fashion shoot. Our very temperamental famous photographer is freaking out because his assistant has got a bug and couldn’t come in.’

Zoe was shocked at the level of disappointment she felt. ‘Oh, that’s okay. You should be working anyway. I can go back and get my camera and look around the sites myself.’

‘Come with me. You said you were interested in fashion photography.’

Zoe was shocked. ‘I couldn’t... I mean...really? Would that be okay?’

Maks shrugged. ‘Why not? Probably be good for you to see an egotistical maestro in his natural habitat and use it as a lesson in how not to be.’

On the way over to the shoot, excitement fizzed in Zoe’s belly. ‘Why do you hire people like this photographer if he’s so horrible?’

‘I didn’t want to hire him—the brand insisted. But I’m not suffering people like him for much longer. There’s no need to behave like a petulant child, no matter how talented you might be.’

Zoe agreed.

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They arrived at a street that was cordoned off by Security, who let them in. Their driver parked up at the back of a long line of trucks and Winnebagos. There was even location catering. Zoe was totally intimidated by the sheer scale. For one fashion shoot!

Maks held her hand and led her to the other end of the street, where it opened out into a small square circled by tall neo-classical buildings in varying pastel hues and elegantly crumbling splendour. Zoe appreciated the aesthetics immediately, and could see why this location had been chosen to shoot the models, who were wearing vibrantly modern monochromatic clothes.

Maks went straight over to where a group was huddled around a tall man with long hair, who looked furious. He saw Maks.

‘About time, Marchetti. What are you going to do about this? I have no assistant! I can’t be expected to work without help.’

Maks’s voice was completely relaxed, but a thread of undeniable steel ran through it and Zoe noticed how people’s eyes widened. ‘This is an unforeseen event, Pierre. How can we make it right and get on with the shoot?’

‘Get me an assistant! Right now!’

Zoe had only the barest premonition before Maks squeezed her hand and said, ‘Pierre, I’d like you to meet Zoe Collins—your assistant for the day.’

Zoe’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Maks, who was looking at the photographer, daring him to disagree. The other man looked at Zoe and sputtered, ‘But...who is she? Your latest girlfriend? Does she know one end of a camera from the other? This is out—’

‘Yes, she does. She’s very talented, actually, and actively looking for experience.’ Maks’s calm voice cut through the photographer’s outraged bluster. ‘So what will it be, Pierre? Are we going to delay the shoot further or will you let Zoe assist you? Do I need to remind you we only have this location for one day?’

There was no doubting who was in control now.

Pierre looked around, as if to find support, but everyone just looked fed up and eager to get started. Eventually he huffed and said, ‘Fine—but I’m warning you. If she can’t keep up, I’m leaving, and you can use her to take the shots. I’m sure the brand would love that.’

Zoe heard Maks say something rude under his breath. Pierre was looking her up and down. He rattled off a list of things he needed and, knowing that this was an opportunity that wouldn’t come along again, Zoe let go of Maks’s hand and went over to where the equipment had been laid out.

CHAPTER SIX

PIERRE GARDIN HANDED Zoe a card. ‘If you’re ever looking for more work or experience, give my office a call.’

Zoe bit back an urge to say, Thanks, but no thanks, and said, ‘Okay. And thank you for giving me a chance.’

‘You know your stuff. You say you’re self-taught?’