"Val," she said in her usual cheerful tone, "so glad you called me back. We've got an offer for a magazine spread."
"Not interested."
"The shoot isn't for six weeks. Plenty of time for you to finish your secret sabbatical and come home."
Was LA home? It had been for years, but lately, I'd started to wonder.
"Still not interested," I said. "Turn down all offers until I tell you otherwise."
"At least tell me where you are."
If I did that, Wendy would make sure a gang of paparazzi descended on the resort within twenty-four hours. My agent had done wonders for my career when I'd switched from football to modeling, but I wasn't sure I wanted that life anymore. When I'd mentioned my doubts to Wendy, she had told me to "have a vacay, bang someone, and get over it."
"Please respect my privacy," I told her. "And give me time."
"Just tell me it's not someplace trendy like Ibiza. You have an image to uphold."
"No jobs, Wendy. Understand?"
She sighed loudly. "Fine. But if your sabbatical takes too long, your career might dry up."
I wasn't sure I cared if it did. "Goodbye, Wendy."
Before she could complain, I disconnected the call.
How had I gone from Olympic glory to preening for the camera? I used to enjoy modeling, but these days, I wanted…something else. Something more. What that meant, I still hadn't figured out.
For now, I'd settle for getting Eve Holt in my bed. Or in the grass. Or in the hot spring. Anywhere and everywhere I could have her, I would have her.
The rest I'd think about later.
Chapter Seven
Eve
After discussing the necessary repairs with Quentin and authorizing him to proceed, I returned to my office to finish my boring business tasks. That's what I intended to do. But my mind kept flashing back to that kiss, to the feel of Val's lips on mine and his tongue tormenting me. I couldn't deny he'd been right when he said I would've let him do anything to me if Quentin hadn't interrupted us. I thanked heaven he had, but I also cursed the fates for getting in the way.
It was for the best. I should not sleep with Val. He'd admitted he was infamous, though I had no idea why. He had all but told me to look him up online.
No, I would not do that. His past didn't matter since he was nothing more than a guest.
I returned my attention to the computer screen. The numbers in my accounting software blurred. My mind reeled me back to the moment when Val's lips had touched mine. He smelled so good. He looked so good. Damn, he was sex on a stick slathered with warm caramel sauce and whipped cream. Watching him do yoga in the nude, that had transformed my desire into a living, breathing creature scrabbling to get out and have its way. I would never forget the sight of Val in a headstand pose with one hand raised to wave at me, a sexy smirk on his lips.
How could he hold that pose? The man must have supernatural powers.
My mind conjured images of all the positions he might pull off in bed and how deliciously naughty it would feel to let him fuck me.Get a grip, Evie.
For ten more minutes, I tried to do that. Really, I tried. My fingernails tapped on the desk instead of the keyboard, and I couldn't focus on the screen for more than two seconds.
Oh, screw it. I could check him out. He'd clearly wanted me to, and Googling him did not mean I would crawl into his bed in the middle of the night.
I opened my web browser and searched for Val Silva. A bunch of results popped up, including several women with the same name, but the top five results were all about my Val Silva.
Not mine. My guest.
The titles of the web pages listed in the results solved the mystery of his infamy. "International soccer star shucks his clothes to celebrate winning game," said an American newspaper. A sports website stated, "Former Olympic football champ Val Silva bares all on the field to celebrate World Cup win." Browsing the articles, I learned Val hadn't received any severe punishment for his antics, since both times he'd stripped after the final whistle and not during the game. The first time, he'd received a warning. The second time, he'd been fined and suspended for one game as well getting arrested, though his influential father got him out of jail with no charges filed.
It was the fifth search result that stopped me.