Antonio pursed his lips and crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the floor. “Victoria, I will give you an exclusive to next year’s women’s collection if you get your Mister Gorgeous—” He pointed to Jack. “—to help me out here I know you know I don’t give exclusives. I don’t think I need to mention how an exclusive with me will boost your career, do I?”
Tori’s lips arched into a smile as she processed what Antonio offered her. He wasn’t talking about next year’s collection, because they were presenting it now. His offer was good for the year after next’s collection. Oh, this is good! Better than great. She turned to Jack. “You want me to hear you out, right?” She lifted an eyebrow.
He stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.”
Jack straightened to his full height. “I’m not doing this.”
She cocked her head, letting out her breath. “Safe travels, Jack.” Tori turned and walked toward her staff, disregarding the curious gazes on her, Antonio, and Jack.
“I’m not a model,” Jack said.
Tori stopped and looked back at Jack. “That’s right. You know the way out.”
“Stop this nonsense. You’re a man and you can walk, right?” Antonio snapped his fingers at two of his assistants. “Get him ready,” he instructed.
A man and a woman grabbed Jack by his arms and led him to a booth. “Tori, I’m doing this for you.”
She glanced at Antonio then Jack. “Then you better do it right.”
* * * *
Jack stared at his reflection in the three-wall mirror. Who the fuck invented Speedos? It should be illegal for men to wear them if they weren’t professional swimmers. He was thankful for the long black robe that came with the outfit but hated that he’d have to wear it open. To make matters worse, he’d been forced to wear open-toe sandals with adjustable crisscross straps reaching past his ankle. Fuck, I look ridiculous.
“You look fabulous,” Tori said behind him.
He pursed his lips and turned to her. “You better not let your photographer shoot a picture of me to put in your magazine or you’ll be sorry.”
She chuckled. “It hadn’t crossed my mind. Thanks for the idea.”
He closed the distance and grasped her by the waist. He fixed his eyes on hers, holding her gaze. “After this, you and I will talk.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss.
“You can kiss her all you want later.” Antonio drew him from Tori, his eyes inspecting every detail of Jack’s attire—or lack thereof. “Nice package,” he said, openly staring at Jack’s cock. “Good. Very good. Let’s go.” Antonio clapped, and one of his assistants led Jack to the line of the models waiting their turn to walk on stage.
“Good luck,” Tori called behind him.
“She’s staying at Le Meurice,” the assistant said. “I’ll find out her room number in case she skips on you.” She winked at him and spanked his ass before walking away.
“This better be worth it,” he murmured.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tori exited the elevator on her floor and headed for her room. Her cheeks hurt from smiling all afternoon, and getting the image of Jack in that outfit out of her head would take years. Her photographers took a few shots of him—after all, it was part of their job and what they were there for.
She wouldn’t put him on the cover of the magazine, though one of his photos would fit quite nicely somewhere in their article highlighting the best moments of fashion week. He’d kill her for doing so. Heck, he’d think it was her ultimate payback—of course, revenge had nothing to do with it. Or maybe it did a little.
Tori laughed at the thought, lifting her eyes to the door of her room. She slowed down when she saw Jack leaning on the frame, hands in pockets.
“Somehow I knew you’d try to skip out on me,” he said.
She raised her chin, walking the rest of the steps to her door. “You thought right,” she said, opening her door. “Goodbye, Jack.”
He stepped in her room right behind her and closed the door.
“What are you doing?” She furrowed her brow.
“We have a conversation pending.” Jack closed the space between. “Do you have any idea what my life’s been like?” He stood inches from her.
“I don’t think I care.” She stepped back.
“It’s hell, Tori.”
“I fail to see why that’s my problem,” Tori said, folding her arms.
“I’m sorry. I’ll admit I was a jerk.”
A mix of anger and longing battled inside her, making her emotions race. “You’re an asshole. If you’re done with what you came to say, you can go now.” She gestured to the door.