“I seriously heart you,” Eden said as they walked to the door where Swanny waited. “We are so keeping up after all this is over. No way I’m letting go of my first real potential girlfriend.”

“Does that mean I get to accompany you on the red carpet at some swank Hollywood get-together sometime?” Skylar asked slyly.

“Yup. You and me both in killer dresses and fuck-me shoes? We’d have the room of men on their knees. Now carry that image with you while I work the rest of the afternoon.”

Skylar laughed but Eden could see she was doing just that. Imagining her and Eden, partners in crime at some posh get-together where neither would give a rat’s ass what anyone thought of them.

“Do I even want to know what the two of you are plotting?” Swanny asked warily.

“Nope,” they said in unison. “Just girl stuff.”

Most men couldn’t back out of a conversation quick enough when the dreaded words girl stuff were mentioned, and Swanny was no exception. He cupped Eden’s elbow and Skylar fell into step on Eden’s other side as they hurried her down the hall to the studio.

There with two whole minutes to spare and Eden knew without false modesty that it didn’t look as though she’d hurried through any of her preparation. She exuded calm and stood waiting patiently on Lonnie to bark his first instruction.

He glanced up at Eden, lifting one eyebrow as he checked his watch. Eden suppressed a smug grin. He’d so been itching to start bellowing insults and now she’d taken the wind from his sails.

And so the rest of the afternoon went. Lonnie—a completely different person than he’d been during the morning session—bellowed, bullied and was all-around difficult, and Eden only smiled wider, performed to his expectations and was completely unruffled by his bullshit.

Swanny, on the other hand, looked as though he was a breath away from choking the life right out of the director. Eden caught his eye once and gave a quick negative shake of her head and then mouthed “Later,” hoping he’d catch her meaning that she’d explain everything afterward.

One had to know how to yank Lonnie’s chains back. The minute Swanny got into his face and let Lonnie know how much he pissed Swanny off, it would become Lonnie’s sole ambition in life to torment Swanny by tormenting Eden. It was far more satisfying to deny Lonnie what he wanted, which would only enrage him further and make him feel a fool when it was all over with.

Still, Swanny spent the rest of the afternoon glowering in the corner, looking as though he’d swallowed a lemon. The sad truth was that him all broody? Was sexy as hell. It made her want to go bite him. Where she wasn’t even sure. Maybe on the thick column of his neck. Or even his chin. Or that rock hard abdomen. Either way she was salivating over the prospect.

His ass. Oh, now that was definitely a tempting prospect.

“Whatever the hell you’re thinking about, keep thinking it,” Lonnie barked. “Give me more of that. Love it. Sultry as hell, Eden. You’ll have the world eating out of your hand.”

She lifted her gaze to purposely meet Swanny’s so he’d know exactly what she was thinking about. Or rather who.

His eyes became half-lidded and he returned her stare with a smoky, desire-laden one of his own that nearly had her squirming in her awkward pose. Hell, they were practically making love on the set of a commercial and they were half a room away from each other.

Lonnie was oblivious to the undercurrents, too deliriously happy with the results he was getting from Eden. But Skylar glanced between them with an almost wistful look in her eyes. But she also looked happy. She looked at Swanny with pride and at Eden with a warning in her eyes.

We may be becoming friends but if you hurt him you’ll answer to me.

Eden acknowledged the silent message with a subtle dip of her head.

Eden listened to her instructions on autopilot, too absorbed in the moment with Swanny, imagining him undressing her. Her undressing him. Them making love. Her lips parted unconsciously and she licked them, ignoring the yelled encouragement from the director and photographer.

Her focus was solely on Swanny, watching his reaction to their mental lovemaking. His gaze promised her all she was imagining and so much more. His eyes bore into her until she could literally feel the heat between them, all consuming. And yet through it all she never faltered. She never moved. She was too much of a professional to allow herself total distraction. But still, she drifted further and further under Swanny’s spell, counting the minutes until they could be alone again. Skin to skin. Mouth to mouth. Joined as intimately as a man and woman could be joined.

An ache began between her legs, spreading through her body until her breasts were heavy and she was hyperaware. So sensitive that any touch would border on pain.

“Whoever he is, he’s a lucky bastard,” the photographer muttered as he snapped another series of photos.

That yanked Eden’s attention away from Swanny and she glared down at the photographer, unsure of whether she’d heard what it was he said.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded.

The photographer grinned. “Your lover, gorgeous. You must be thinking of him. Never seen you look quite so sexy as today and you’ve always been off the charts. But there’s definitely something different about you now.”

“Well since he isn’t you, then I’d say it’s none of your business,” Eden said icily, staring him down until he had the grace to look way, color staining his cheeks.

“Get the hell off my set,” Lonnie said in disgust. “And leave the memory card behind. You’re fired.”

The younger photographer paled. “What?”

“You ruined what was, up until now, one of the best shoots I’ve ever had the pleasure of directing with your big mouth. You think we’re going to get that back now?”

He turned, acknowledging KGI for the first time, since he’d spent all his time trying to ignore their presence altogether.

“See that the gentleman is escorted from the building.”

Swanny stepped forward before his teammates could, a scowl darkening his features. “With pleasure.”

“I’ll go with,” Edge quickly said. Eden could see the slight concern in Edge’s features that the photographer might have an accidental fall on the way out, courtesy of Swanny.

“The memory card goes with me,” the photographer said firmly, his features changing from shocked surprise to ugly anger.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Lonnie said silkily. “Read your contract, boy. Those pictures belong to Aria. So take it out, and if you ruin it, I’ll make sure you never work in this business again. Not to mention you’ll be sued for millions of dollars that Aria will claim they lost because those photos wouldn’t be able to be used in their campaign.”

With a sullen look, the photographer carefully withdrew the memory card and thrust it toward Lonnie. But Lonnie still stood there expectantly, hand held out for the camera.

Swanny had gripped the man around his upper arm and now squeezed until the photographer winced.

“Give him the camera,” Swanny said in a menacing voice.

Looking like a petulant child, the photographer handed over the camera and Lonnie proceeded to make sure every photo was saved to the card, and then went through deleting every single photo stored on the camera itself.

Lonnie nodded at Swanny. “He can go now.”

Swanny turned him around and Edge fell into step on the photographer’s other side and gripped his arm in the same fashion Swanny had as they propelled him from the studio.

When they got to the entrance they all but threw him out and he stumbled onto the sidewalk.

“I’ll sue you for this,” the photographer yelled. “I’ll have bruises. I’ll file assault charges.”

Swanny gave him a bored look. Edge merely studied his fingernails, digging at invisible lint underneath one.