Read Love By Design Online

Authors: Liz Matis

Love By Design (6 page)

“This is family show.” She threw the words over her shoulder and caught him staring at her backside again.
Pig.
But what did that make her? Hadn’t she ogled him? Though she was a little more discreet.
I am, aren’t I?

She let the screen door slammed behind her. Grabbing her overnight case, she headed toward the bathroom.

Victoria groaned as she got a full look in mirror. She’d given Russ quite a show. Her 32Cs wet and cold, were ready and waiting for his wet, hot mouth. She shivered again but this time she blamed it on the air conditioning. She peeled off the blouse and struggled out of the bra, almost ripping it.

She picked out a bra out of her case. After hooking it on, she ran her fingertips along her cleavage, before cupping each breast. She bit her lip wondering how Russ’s hands would feel instead. She jumped as a knock on the door sounded.

“Five minutes.”

Her normally pale complexion darkened crimson red at the cheeks making her appear as if she were sporting a clown face. She reached for her makeup, brushing on another coat of foundation to cover her embarrassment.

With a clean white v neck t-shirt and the same tight maroon skirt, Victoria approached the set. The living room she was designing currently looked like a four-year-old created it. Stuffed animals lined the wraparound shelving. A hideous pale pink graced the walls and she doubted the Salvation Army would even take the shabby brown couch. Dollhouses were decorated better than this.

Anything she did would be an improvement. She tried to stay focused on her plans for the room, but fear gripped her heart as she neared the cameras.

She shook out her arms and hands, hoping the worry would fall out her fingertips. Her stomach gurgled and she hoped she wouldn’t vomit. On the first day of shooting less than a year ago, Victoria hurled with the cameras rolling. The cameraman, Carl, joked that he would send it to that bloopers show. Victoria didn’t find it very funny, but the producers assured her they taped over the incident.

The panic attacks continued through all twenty episodes, thankfully without any spewing theatrics. Stage fright, Ava called it. But knowing what it was didn’t make it any easier. Only Neil could help her through it. And he wasn’t here.

Instead Russ stood on the mark, ready for his close-up. He winked as she neared and she swallowed back down the contents of her stomach. Shouldn’t he be the nervous one?

A tool belt now hung low on his hips and a confident smile spread across his lips. Victoria wouldn’t be surprised if he made this year’s People Sexist Man Alive list. He certainly made hers. She stopped a few feet away from him, hesitant to stand close to him.

“I told you I don’t bite.”

With his perfect, pearly whites in full display, she wasn’t sure she believed him. Still, she really wouldn’t mind if he nibbled a bit on her neck or any of the other tender places on her body.

Stephen, the director, used to her reluctance to start shooting, took her by the shoulders and placed her next to Russ. She gave him a weak smile and he gave her a questioning look.

“Are we ready?” asked Stephen now behind the camera.

“Ready,” said Russ.

Silence.

“Victoria?”

She rubbed her hands down the side of her skirt, trying to get herself under control.

“Victoria?”

Her stomach clenched again.

“Are you okay?” Russ touched the small of her back and she jumped.

“Yes, yes. I’m ready.” She looked up at Russ and she could tell she was starting to freak him out. That made two of them.

“And action.”

Victoria froze. She could feel everyone’s eyes are on her, waiting for her to begin the introduction to the show, but the words wouldn’t come. If only she could spout the first sentence she’d be fine. Why did this happen to her? She needed Neil. Maybe if she spoke to him on the phone, but it must be four thirty in the morning in Arizona. What made her think she could do this without him?

“Cut!” yelled the director.

“Did you forget your lines?” asked Russ.

Ashamed, she looked to the floor. “Not exactly.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He softly touched her arm.

She heard the concern in his voice and confessed, “I get camera shy.”

“You? Shy?”

Victoria let out a nervous laugh as she glanced at him.

“How do you usually get through it?”

She wasn’t about to tell him.

“Neil pinches her ass before each show,” the cameraman shouted over.

“Carl!” Mortification swamped her. The Aussie better not get any ideas.

Russ eyed her butt, then her. “Are you sure Neil is gay?”

“Quite.”

“Bi?”

“No.”

He examined her rear-end again. “Hmmm … well, since I’m his replacement—” His hand started to reach over.

“You’re not going to pinch my ass.” She scooted out of the way.

“Are you sure, because I can take one for the team.”

Victoria gave him her famous death stare.

“Gotcha. No pinching.”

“Let’s try again,” she said to the director.

“And action.”

“Ow!” True to his word, Russ didn’t pinch, instead he gave her rear-end a resounding smack. A chorus of chuckles ran through the crew. Before she could rip into him the director yelled action again. Nerves gone, she’d forgive Russ. For now.

“Welcome to Design Intervention. Where we intervene on designs gone wrong. I’m your co-host Victoria Bryce and filling in for Neil Bay is Russell Rowland.”

“No need to be so formal, Tori, call me Russ.” He winked at her.

Tori?
She would NOT forgive him for that one. No way. And what was with the sudden thick Aussie accent?

“Cut!” she yelled on her own.

“What’s the matter now?” asked the director.

“One, he’s to use my given name and two,” she turned to face Russ, “what’s with the cheesy accent?”

He put up his hands defensively. “The producers wanted me to play it up. Said that the female viewers would eat it up.”

“Well, don’t. You’re normal voice will have the women swooning sure enough.”

“I don’t see you fainting into my arms.”

“I’m immune.”

He bent his head, invading her personal space. “That’s too bad, luv,” he said in almost a whisper. A knowing smile playing on his lips.

Victoria fought closing her eyes in pleasure as his breath warmed her neck. He was cheating. But she wouldn’t reach out to steady herself and prove him right. She would NOT swoon.

“Daylight is burning so let’s wrap up this little love fest,” said Stephen.

They both stepped back to their marks to begin shooting. “Do you need another smack on your bum?” Russ gave her a hopeful look.

“Just remember to use Victoria.”

The director yelled action again and she restarted the introduction. Russ behaved himself and used her name correctly. Ava had been right, as usual, about the chemistry between the two co-hosts. The show was largely unscripted and the conversation flowed so easily that they were practically flirting. She wrapped up the introduction by saying, “The first rule of design is start with a clean slate. Our big strong Aussie here will move all the heavy stuff.” She slapped her hand on an armoire. Russ winked and flexed his bicep for the camera. “While, I take care of all the lighter items.” She picked up one of the stuffed animals and nuzzled it to Russ’s neck. “Look, a koala bear.”

“Ah, I feel right at home.”

The director yelled cut. “That was great. You two sizzled.”

Along with crew, they began clearing the room while the cameras rolled with the sound off. The footage would be edited in later. Victoria had mixed emotions. While glad the shoot went well, she felt like she was betraying Neil. What if the executives decided to push Neil out? They could’ve fired him outright for leaving the show. There was no clause in the contract to prevent them from doing so.

But Neil had a huge following. And Russ may not even want to be a co-host of a design show. She was sure he came to the States for bigger and better things; after all, he could’ve stayed in Australia where his show was a big hit. Otherwise, why leave?

She was getting ahead of herself; it was just the first shoot of the first day. They had a long way to go.

Chapter 8

 

“S
o I’m supposed to hate it?” asked Russ.

The director had finished explaining how the paint reveal segment worked. “It will add drama and make the final reveal all the more suspenseful.”

“And Victoria knows I’m going to trash talk her selection?” Russ didn’t want to ruin the rapport they established during the last hour. Not only hadn’t she done anything to sabotage him, but had gone out of her way to make him look good.

“Yes.”

Russ looked at the director doubtfully. “I saw a tape of the show and I don’t remember Neil doing that.”

“You’re not Neil.”

No, he certainly wasn’t. Russ’s style, if you could call it that, leaned more to the casual side than the formal one Neil and Victoria aspired to. But if he knew his co-host she was going to be spitting mad at him for not only calling her out on national television but blame him for changing the format of the show. “And Bryce is okay with it?”

“Ask her yourself.” Stephen pointed over to her. “Only a word of warning. Don’t call her Bryce, either.”

Russ glanced over to Victoria who squatted by several cans of paint preparing them for the reveal. If the itty bitty piece of fabric he supposed she called a skirt inched up by the slightest he’d see her panties. If she wore any. He broke out in a cold sweat.

“What is with you two? Go ahead and ask her.”

Russ rubbed his chin, debating on how to approach her. He still had a bad feeling Victoria didn’t know anything about the change. The director was throwing Russ into a pit of crocodiles. He went over to her like he was walking a plank over that pit.

“So can I take a peek?”

“No, it has to be a surprise. It would look fake, otherwise.” She rose up, brushing off her hands, barely reaching his chin despite the high heels she wore.

“So you know?”

“Know what?”

She looked confused. This wasn’t good. “I, um …” Russ struggled for diplomatic way to inform her. “I’m supposed to challenge the paint choice.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

That pit of crocodiles looked better and better.

“It wasn’t my idea.” Not that he hadn’t had any thoughts about the show’s format, but he only had the job on an episode to episode basis. But while he was here he’d give it his all.

It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing. His own show ran for five seasons. And if the tabloids actually reported the truth instead of lies, he’d be there for the sixth. Fear of dwindling ratings and the cancellation of one of his endorsement deals merely pushed up his plan to come to the States.

“Stephen!”

But the cowardly director knew better and had deserted the set leaving Russ to handle Victoria who was about to boil over like the Lady Knox Geyser in New Zealand. He’d seen it blow once and was awed by the power and beauty of the display. Russ stood transfixed now. Victoria’s eyes burned like ice on fire, her pacing back and forth building up steam as she mumbled obscenities. Beautiful, rare, and volatile.

And a brat.

Would it be sexual harassment if he laid her across his knees and gave his high-strung co-host a spanking? More than his hand itched to do it.

His first rational thought was to soothe her, but he decided against it, feeling it would send her over the edge. Perhaps issuing a challenge would work. “What? Can’t handle me?” A reference to yesterday’s comment that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Of course I can. My design will be so outrageously gorgeous that you’ll have to eat your words.” Victoria flung out her arms with dramatic flair.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m not a fan of change.”

“Really? Never would have guessed that.”

“You’re not helping.” She stopped mid-pace.

“Why don’t we give it a go and go from there?” he tried to placate her.

She blew out a breath in a huff. “You probably think I’m some sort of diva.” Victoria crossed her arms sending her breasts up like an offering.

The movement caused Russ’s gaze to drop as he remembered how she looked soaking wet with only a slip of fabric and a lacey bra standing between her and his mouth. His cock hardened. He felt like a kid who just scored his first glance at Playboy. He looked away, scratching his head, even though it was the head in his jeans that needed to be rubbed. “Well, you do have Stephen scared of you.”

“But not you.”

“A little thing like you?” Russ smirked and shrugged, but the truth was, for a tiny slip of a girl, she frightened him. He was powerfully attracted to her and he didn’t understand it. She wasn’t his type. Petite, temperamental, and mouthy like his mother’s Pomeranian. Sure, Victoria was beautiful, but so were a lot of women.

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