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Ana grabbed hold of his sleeve and, nearly shaking with anger, twisted hard. “Are you threatening me? It’s a very bad idea when I could shred your career with every designer I know. If your work isn’t up to its usual high standard tomorrow, I’ll tell Galen why not.” She stood and tightened her hold on her bag. “Let’s forget this conversation ever took place. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Jaime stared as she walked away, his mouth agape.

Ana knew she’d probably overreacted, but Jaime must have finally gotten her message. She walked back to the hotel and around to the courtyard. She sat down on the garden wall and called Alejandro while she was too mad to realize it wasn’t a good idea. “Hi, it’s Ana.”

“Hi, Ana. How are things going on Mallorca?”

She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Not all that well, but I hope they’ll run more smoothly tomorrow.”

“Sounds interesting. Do you want to add a few details?”

She bit her lip, then burst out with it. “Not about that, but Alejandro, my black hair is a wig. I’m blonde.”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “You don’t like blondes?”

He laughed. “Blondes are fine, redheads, whatever. You could show up bald, and I’d still like you.”

“That’s comforting.” Now that she’d blurted out the least important thing about herself, she grew cautious. “The crew is having dinner together tonight, and I need to get going.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“One of the models is probably passed out in the bar, and that’s going to make tomorrow difficult.”

“You could take her place, but that would make it hard to take the photos, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Call me tonight if you want to, or tomorrow, whenever you have a chance.”

“Thanks.” Ana ended the call and doubted he’d remain so agreeable for long. All she had to do was show up looking like herself, and the paparazzi would circle his building like sharks. She hated them, but she was used to their shouts for smiles. He’d not enjoy finding himself in the tabloids as her mystery lover. He’d just shake his head and wish her a good life.

Despite Ana’s misgivings, dinner went rather well. Lourdes was only tipsy and thought every comment hilarious which made everyone laugh. Ana had taken a seat on the same side of the table as Jaime so she wouldn’t have to look at him while they ate. Galen talked at length about what a beautiful background Palma made for his fashions. With the mountains of the Tramuntana and circled by the sea, he said he might bring them all back to Mallorca in the fall.

Valeria leaned close to Ana. “You’re awfully quiet. Did you leave someone exciting at home?”

Ana was afraid saying so would jinx their affair and shrugged. “It’s too soon to tell.”

“You have the hope, then. I haven’t dated anyone fun in months. Men want to be photographed with me, but that’s the extent of their interest. I’m going to find some nice school teacher or attorney, a doctor maybe, someone with substance.”

“Substance is good,” Ana assured her. “We live in an imaginary world where the latest fashion is more highly regarded than anything of real significance. This should be a fun job, though.”

“Yes, but location shoots are a challenge for me. Ten minutes outside and I’ll resemble a lobster too closely. Galen promises he’ll watch the time.”

“I’m sure he will.”

The dinner party ended early so they’d all be ready to work at six the following morning. As Ana left the table, Valeria touched her arm. “Come outside with me a moment. There’s something I need to ask you.”

Ana doubted she could give valuable advice on any topic, but she wasn’t sleepy. “It’s a lovely night. Let’s go out to the courtyard.”

Valeria led the way, and they strolled near the low wall. “Did Jaime ask you to do some art photography?”

Ana bet he’d told her she was one of his favorites too. “He did, but I’m not interested. What did you tell him?”

“I said I’d think about it. He insisted I could trust him to show off my figure to every advantage. I’m paid for not having much in the way of curves, so I’d be a poor subject, but he raved about my hair.”

“You do have magnificent red hair, Valeria.”


Tags: Phoebe Conn Bullfighter's Daughter Erotic