dramatic makeup, and as Delylah sprayed herself with her signature perfume, she realized that she was actually
feeling a little nervous about meeting James.
Delylah smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Now that was a first. It had been a
long time since she had felt anxious or uneasy about anything or anyone, but it
had also been a long time since she had met someone who had made such a powerful
impression on her. She realized that even with constant performances and world
travel, her life had still fallen into a measure of a routine. James was a wild
card, a challenge that might not so easily be met.
Almost in response to her
thoughts, a discreet knock rose from the door. Therese glanced at Delylah and went to answer it.
“Hey, Darien,” she said, smiling
at Darien, dressed in his signature black, then at the very handsome and more
than a little sexy James Branagh , his camera draped
around his neck as though it were part of his body.
“Therese, I’d like you to meet
James Branagh ,” Darien said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,”
James said, shaking Therese’s hand with a strong grip. “I understand you’re Delylah’s right-hand woman?”
Therese smiled. “Jill of all
trades pretty much sums it up,” she said, standing aside. “Please come in,
James. Delylah’s very excited to meet you.”
She glanced at Darien as James
stepped into the suite.
“Call me later,” Darien said,
before turning to leave. “We’ve got to go over the schedule for the Canadian
tour.”
Therese nodded and closed the door,
following James to a small sitting area adjacent to a wet bar. James stopped in
mid-stride when Delylah appeared and stared at her
appraisingly.
“ Delylah Fayre ,” James said, extending his hand. “I’ve waited
a long time to meet you.”
Snared by his hypnotic blue eyes, Delylah smiled and shook his hand. His touch was electric,
almost sizzling, and the connection she felt was instantaneous. It was more
than clear that James felt the same, and his smile conveyed the obvious warmth
in his eyes.
“I think I’m the one who should be
honored,” Delylah said, motioning him to the soft
cream leather couches. “Please sit down.”
“Would you like some coffee,
James?” Therese asked. “Or perhaps something stronger? We have whatever you need.”
“Coffee would be fine, thank you,”
James said. “I think the concert was enough of a stimulant.”
“I’ll be right back,” Therese
said, retreating to the suite’s kitchen.
Delylah crossed her legs and sat back against the couch. It was unusual for her to feel
remotely awkward with anyone, but something about James’ cool, deliberate
behavior clearly signaled that he was in charge of the situation. His
assessment of her was quite obvious, and she sensed it was more than just
professional interest.
“You should have let us know you
were attending the concert,” she said. “We could have provided you with VIP
seating.”
James grinned disarmingly and
leaned back against the couch. Delylah couldn’t help
but notice the tanned flesh exposed by the unbuttoned top of his shirt and the
way his rolled-up shirt sleeves clung to the pleasing contours of his muscular
arms. As she glanced at his face, she noticed faint crow’s feet fanning around
his hypnotic blue eyes.
She realized why James had stood
out from the crowd. It was not only because of his height, but from a power
aura of masculinity she could literally sniff, as though the pheromones
literally oozed from his pores. This was no boy hamming it up for juvenile selfies filled with silly expressions and even sillier hand
gestures. James was a man far removed from the herd mentality of the men she
had become used to.
“I’m a photographer,” James said,
drinking in her features. “Like you, I exist through my art, and I can’t experience
a connection with my subject from a private booth or sectioned-off row. If
you’ve studied my work, you’ll know that spontaneity is my
feeling a little nervous about meeting James.
Delylah smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Now that was a first. It had been a
long time since she had felt anxious or uneasy about anything or anyone, but it
had also been a long time since she had met someone who had made such a powerful
impression on her. She realized that even with constant performances and world
travel, her life had still fallen into a measure of a routine. James was a wild
card, a challenge that might not so easily be met.
Almost in response to her
thoughts, a discreet knock rose from the door. Therese glanced at Delylah and went to answer it.
“Hey, Darien,” she said, smiling
at Darien, dressed in his signature black, then at the very handsome and more
than a little sexy James Branagh , his camera draped
around his neck as though it were part of his body.
“Therese, I’d like you to meet
James Branagh ,” Darien said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,”
James said, shaking Therese’s hand with a strong grip. “I understand you’re Delylah’s right-hand woman?”
Therese smiled. “Jill of all
trades pretty much sums it up,” she said, standing aside. “Please come in,
James. Delylah’s very excited to meet you.”
She glanced at Darien as James
stepped into the suite.
“Call me later,” Darien said,
before turning to leave. “We’ve got to go over the schedule for the Canadian
tour.”
Therese nodded and closed the door,
following James to a small sitting area adjacent to a wet bar. James stopped in
mid-stride when Delylah appeared and stared at her
appraisingly.
“ Delylah Fayre ,” James said, extending his hand. “I’ve waited
a long time to meet you.”
Snared by his hypnotic blue eyes, Delylah smiled and shook his hand. His touch was electric,
almost sizzling, and the connection she felt was instantaneous. It was more
than clear that James felt the same, and his smile conveyed the obvious warmth
in his eyes.
“I think I’m the one who should be
honored,” Delylah said, motioning him to the soft
cream leather couches. “Please sit down.”
“Would you like some coffee,
James?” Therese asked. “Or perhaps something stronger? We have whatever you need.”
“Coffee would be fine, thank you,”
James said. “I think the concert was enough of a stimulant.”
“I’ll be right back,” Therese
said, retreating to the suite’s kitchen.
Delylah crossed her legs and sat back against the couch. It was unusual for her to feel
remotely awkward with anyone, but something about James’ cool, deliberate
behavior clearly signaled that he was in charge of the situation. His
assessment of her was quite obvious, and she sensed it was more than just
professional interest.
“You should have let us know you
were attending the concert,” she said. “We could have provided you with VIP
seating.”
James grinned disarmingly and
leaned back against the couch. Delylah couldn’t help
but notice the tanned flesh exposed by the unbuttoned top of his shirt and the
way his rolled-up shirt sleeves clung to the pleasing contours of his muscular
arms. As she glanced at his face, she noticed faint crow’s feet fanning around
his hypnotic blue eyes.
She realized why James had stood
out from the crowd. It was not only because of his height, but from a power
aura of masculinity she could literally sniff, as though the pheromones
literally oozed from his pores. This was no boy hamming it up for juvenile selfies filled with silly expressions and even sillier hand
gestures. James was a man far removed from the herd mentality of the men she
had become used to.
“I’m a photographer,” James said,
drinking in her features. “Like you, I exist through my art, and I can’t experience
a connection with my subject from a private booth or sectioned-off row. If
you’ve studied my work, you’ll know that spontaneity is my
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