Jillian was waiting for him when he emerged from the dressing room. "I owe you both. These photos will be phenomenal. The other two artists found their couples right away, but I hadn't seen anyone I liked with natural chemistry. How long have you been together?" Jillian smiled and started packing up her camera gear.
"Oh, we're not-" Kat began at the same time Tristan said, "We aren't-"
Jillian's eyes darted between them, and she winked. "One of those hush-hush, will-they- or-won't-they situations, huh? I get it. My boyfriend and I were like that when we both started working at the same studio. Secret shagging is so hot, am I right?"
Kat gaped at Jillian, but Tristan had to cough to hide a laugh. The woman was absolutely right about secret sex. Normally he hated photographers because they ruined his life and violated his privacy, but perhaps this Jillian wasn't so bad.
"Well, I've got to dash. Got a shoot at the National Portrait Gallery in half an hour. I'll send you the proofs." She zipped up the last of her bags and left with another little wink and a smile at them.
They were alone with the massive fairy-tale set, and Tristan wanted to drag Kat back to the glass coffin and wake her up with another kiss.
"Well … uh … " He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, at a loss for words.
"I guess we should go back to the town house." Kat grabbed her coat and pulled it on, her kissable mouth turned down in a little frown.
He didn't like to see her that way. "Kat-" Tristan had only just gotten that out before someone called his name.
"Tristan Kingsley?"
"Yes?" Tristan spun in the direction of the voice that'd called out to him.
A camera flashed and the world turned white. A few seconds later, he blinked owlishly to get rid of the large white dots in his field of vision. When he could see again, he nearly stumbled back a step at the sight of three photographers, each gripping a camera and staring at him with a hungry expression.
"It's him!" one of them whispered loudly. They all raised their cameras again.
Paparazzi. Where the bloody hell was security? Probably swamped with shoppers at the cashiers and not watching the upper floors.
"Who's the lady with you, Mr. Kingsley?" another of the paparazzi demanded.
Shoving Kat behind him, he waved a hand in their direction. "No pictures," he growled, then moved fast. Shielding Kat with one arm around her shoulders, he whispered into her ear, "Run! This way!" They bolted through the store, dodging racks of clothes and piles of beautifully wrapped present displays.
"Mr. Kingsley!" The shouts echoed from behind them, and Tristan knew they needed to find a place to lie low for a while
"Tristan, why won't they leave us alone?" Kat glanced up at him, her beautiful gray eyes wide and tinged with shock.
"I'm sorry. We'll find a way to lose them." He led her around a woman whose children were admiring a case of new video games. About ten feet away, an employee exited a storage closet.
Brilliant! Tugging Kat toward it, he opened the door and shoved her inside. She squealed in surprise, and he dove in after her. Then he closed the door and waited.
"Trist-"
He clamped a hand over her mouth. Just outside he could hear the paparazzi talking to one another.
"He's here somewhere. I saw him go this way," a man said.
"Who was he with? Bit of a mouse compared to his usual standards. Wonder what happened with Brianna Wolverton."
Tristan silently snarled. Kat was fucking beautiful, and here she was, eyes brimming with tears. He dropped his hand from her mouth and stared at her lips.
"Don't listen to a word they say," he breathed, just loudly enough for her to hear. "You're intoxicating." He edged closer, that predatory need to capture her and make her his beginning to whisper in his veins with a delicious thrill.
"I am?" Kat licked her lips and tilted her head back, retreating until her back hit the wall.
Nowhere to run. One corner of his mouth kicked up in a half-grin.
"Yes. More than anyone I've ever met." He placed one hand on the wall beside her head and his other on the flare of her full, womanly hip. "So much," he paused and slowly lowered his head, "that I can't go another minute without kissing you." He brought his lips to hers in a kiss that was stolen and wicked, with a hint of roughness.
Outside, the paparazzi would be circling, hoping to find them, but for now, he could take his time with her. She couldn't escape unless she wanted to end up on the front page of the tabloids.
With a little moan against his lips, Kat clutched the lapels of his coat and clung to him, kissing him back. Her touch made him want to go all the way, take her here in a bloody broom closet. He needed to keep himself in check. Snatching her wrists, he pinned them on either side of her head and used his whole body to trap her against the wall. Images from earlier assaulted him, driving him mad with desire. He wanted his Snow White, to taste the fruit of an apple upon her lips.
Full lips, eyelashes dusted with snow. Alabaster white skin and the tempting gleam of an apple, its juices coating her tongue as she kissed him back.
He'd experienced something beyond roleplay, and for a few brief moments, they had lived a fairy tale together. Tristan didn't want her to escape, not this woman whose kiss resonated with him on such a deep level.
Nibbling at her lips, he enticed her to open her mouth further, allowing him to delve inside. After all the wild and sexy women he'd been with, this one, this innocent but innately sensual woman, was going to undo him.
He released her hands so he could cup her arse and clench it hard, earning a responding gasp and rock of her pelvis toward his.
"That's it, darling, show me your dark side," he whispered against her lips.
"Please, Tristan," she begged, and the little minx brazenly cupped his cock through his trousers.
He cursed in torture and pleasure at her stroking touch. "Please what?" he asked, moving his mouth to her neck, sucking and nipping, leaving little love bites against her skin. A wild need to mark her had turned him almost feral. He'd always loved a rough tumble in the sheets, but this was … so much more. Purely primal.
"Please fu-"
A sharp rattle of a doorknob cut through the dense fog of his lust, and a shaft of bright light burst between him and Kat.
"What the … You shouldn't be in here!" An angry male store clerk in his red Harrods shirt glared at them. A shiny red name tag proclaimed that his name was "Glenn."
Tristan recovered more quickly than Kat, and he laced his fingers through hers, dragging her past the scowling store clerk. "Pardon us, Glenn."
They darted through the store and back onto the street without encountering any more paparazzi. Relieved, Tristan hailed a cab and ushered Kat inside. "Kew Gardens, please," he told the driver.
"Very good, sir." The driver set his fare machine and pulled out into traffic.
Tristan slid an arm around Kat's shoulders and tugged her close so that their hips and legs touched. She was blushing and biting her lip to keep from giggling. It was one of his favorite expressions of hers, and he loved knowing he'd put it there. This delighted look of near laughter was almost as perfect as one of her smiles. For once she wasn't worrying about the consequences of being with him. She was the way she should be: a happy woman.
"Being with you is a bit of a whirlwind, isn't it?" she asked.
He beamed. "Life isn't worth living unless you fill every second with adventure."
"Making out in a Harrods storage closet was certainly an adventure." She laughed.
"It was, wasn't it? And kissing Snow White. I'll cross that off my fantasy bucket list." He leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, and she placed her head in the crook of his shoulder, sighing in contentment.
"Tristan," she murmured, her eyes darkening with shadows as she put one hand on his lower stomach, rubbing him slowly, soothing, as she cuddled closer. "We have to figure out what we're going to do."
Her whispered words gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time she seemed to be considering their being together as inevitable.
I'll fight to have you, Kat. Fight you, our parents, the world. You belong to me.
"We'll talk tonight. I don't want to ruin today. Not when we're headed to the best part."
"And what's that?" Kat asked.
Tristan tightened his arm around her shoulders, loving the feel of her body so close to his.
"Kew Gardens. They happen to have a special exhibit of butterflies."
Her eyes widened, revealing those mercury gray pools he could easily lose himself in.