Hollywood Love: Book 2: A sexy celebrity romance (Hollywood Billionaires) Read online

  “I have swim trunks for you to put on.” I thrust them in his direction as he sets our drinks on the desk.

  “Awesome. I’ll go change.”

  While he steps into the bathroom, I take a gulp of my drink.

  “Hey, Vanessa,” he says, “can you help me?”

  “Help you how?”

  He walks out in the swim trunks, holding a knotted drawstring in his hand. “I can’t get this untied. My fingers are too big.”

  Stop it, Vanessa. Stop thinking about what other things might be big.

  You need to establish a friendly working relationship with him, so you can get a bigger chunk of Captive’s publicity. That’s all this is.

  “I’ll be glad to help.” I take the drawstring in my hands and attempt to untie it. I was afraid he’d come out and be a little flabby in the middle, like many men get as their thirties approach. But, holy hell, not him. He looks like he’s done nothing the last two years but prepare this body, this shrine to mankind, for me.

  And here my hands are, just inches away from the one thing I want.

  And I’m not talking about his heart.

  I pull him toward the window where there’s more light. Then I drop to my knees to get a better look at this knot.

  “Uh, you know, it’s probably okay,” he says, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I just won’t dive. It’ll stay up.”

  I glance up at him. “Oh, I’m sure it will,” I reply sexily, letting go of the string and thinking how I’d love to find out just how long Dawson can stay up.

  He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. “I’ll grab our drinks,” he says. “You choose the spot.”

  I pick out two chaises with a small table set between them. It’s perfect for our drinks and my need for a little separation.

  This is business.

  I look down at my skimpy red bikini and know that I have no intention of keeping things strictly business with Dawson Johnson.

  I finish my drink as he lies back and takes his first sip. “What a gorgeous day. It’s starting to get chilly enough at home to wear a jacket.”

  “You’re still tan,” I say, because how can I not notice how perfectly bronzed his skin is?

  “Our family spends most of the summer in the Hamptons. Do you want to get in?”

  “The water?”

  “Yeah.” He stands up and takes my hand. And even though I really don’t want to, I get in the pool with him. Sort of. I sit on a step, being careful not to let the ends of my hair touch the water. I don’t want my blowout to get frizzy.

  Dawson dives in and swims the length of the pool. When he comes up out of the water, he looks just like one of my favorite men’s cologne ads. The model in it is dark, his hair slicked back off his face, and his eyes are amazing. I realize now, that’s why I’ve always been drawn to it. The model looks like Dawson.

  He grabs my waist and pulls me into the water with him. “You’re not one of those girls who doesn’t want to get her hair wet, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I lie. “I love to swim.”

  And right now, I do love it. Dawson has walked us out to where it’s too deep for me to touch. His big hands are holding my waist and I’m clinging to his muscular arms.

  “Not a bad way to spend a day at work,” he says, reminding me again that this is supposed to be business.

  “It doesn’t really feel like work.” I wrap my arms around his neck and look up at him.

  Our eyes meet again. He looks at my mouth and runs the pad of his thumb slowly across my bottom lip. “Do you remember our kiss?”

  “Kiss?” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure we made out.”

  “Yeah, but do you remember it? How it felt?”

  “Maybe you should remind me,” I flirt.

  “No, I’m asking if you remember it. Because I do. It was, hands down, the best kiss of my life.”

  My heart stops. My throat goes dry. “Really?”

  “Really. Do you think we could top it, now that we’re older?” he asks, sliding his hand under my chin to lift it toward him.

  “I don’t know. Yes. Maybe,” I say breathlessly, waiting for his lips to close the small gap between us.

  But he doesn’t. He leans back a little and says, “Hmm. Well, once you decide, let me know.”

  Is he fucking kidding me?

  Dawson is a total panty tease.

  Or bikini tease, in this case.

  He is like his brother.

  No, he’s not like Riley. Riley would have taken off his shirt, ordered shots, and had his choice of women. And he wouldn’t get them all hot and bothered and not follow through.

  “Mr. Johnson,” our server says, “your lunch is served.”

  Dawson grins at me. “I’m starved.”

  I reluctantly let go of him and get out of the pool.

  Because I can handle a challenge.

  And my new challenge is named Dawson Johnson.

  Get Book #3

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jillian is a USA TODAY bestselling author who writes fun romances with characters her readers fall in love with, from the boy next door in the That Boy trilogy to the daughter of a famous actress in The Keatyn Chronicles to a kick-ass young assassin in the Spy Girl series.

  She lives in a small Florida beach town, is married to her college sweetheart, has two grown children, and two Labrador Retrievers named Cali and Camber. When she's not working, she likes to travel, paint, shop for shoes, watch football, and go to the beach.

  Check out Jillian’s website for added content and to sign up for her newsletter.