The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,35

shirt with no tie, my eyes lingered longer than they should have.

They lingered.

And lingered.

I slipped my phone back into my purse and watched the magic. It was unfair how attractive he was. Just unfair to the rest of humanity.

“Okay,” Alejandro said in his thick accent. “Now, take the jacket off.”

Court’s eyes slipped to mine. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t stop him. But my mouth went dry as he casually removed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder as if he’d done this his whole life.

“Excellent. Now, the shirt.”

“Wait,” I said, my throat tight. “We didn’t agree on shirtless. This is a business shoot.”

Evelyn shrugged. “One or two couldn’t hurt. The readers will die for it.”

Court waited. His eyes back on me. “Your call, English.”

I frowned. I didn’t want him to do the shirtless shoot. I wasn’t sure that it gave the right appearance. That it said what we were going for. But at the same time, I wanted to see him shirtless. My mind had been wandering there the entire time I’d seen him in those suits. Who wouldn’t be wondering the same thing?

“Just one,” I told Evelyn. “Don’t use any more than one.”

She nodded hungrily. “All right. Just one.”

I nodded at Court. My throat bobbed. I had to watch him unbutton each individual button on that shirt. Slow, methodical, and so, so tempting. Revealing every inch of powerful chest and abdomen.

I shifted uncomfortably as I remembered how eager I’d been to get to that six-pack and run my hands lower. What exactly I’d wanted to do… and actually done after that.

He stripped out of his shirt and effortlessly tossed it off to the side. I heard Evelyn suck in a breath. I already wasn’t breathing. It was an agonizing few minutes as Alejandro worked his magic.

Then, he rose to his feet and nodded. “Perfection. We have what we need.”

“Great!” Evelyn said. “That’s a wrap.”

And over her short head, Court’s attention returned to mine. Our eyes said everything and nothing, all at once. Desire smoldered there. And I wasn’t sure that mine didn’t answer.

I hated the arrogant prick who thought he could take what he wanted in that moment. And I wanted him all the same. The heat pooling in my core was enough to say just how much I fucking wanted him.

Court broke the contact, reaching for his shirt and slinging it back on. Evelyn bustled over to him, talking in hushed tones and giggling like a schoolgirl. He righted his shirt and then jacket. But his smile was as genuine as I’d ever seen it as he indulged her. And I had to watch.

The interview was short and scripted. She’d done exactly what she’d said she would do. And for that, I was grateful. I was still reeling from the photo shoot and the new vision I had of Court Kensington stripping in front of me.

“Well, thank you so much, Mr. Kensington,” Evelyn said coquettishly as I waited nearby to vacate the building.

“Please, Evelyn, call me Court.”

She flushed. “Court. Of course.”

“Actually, do you think I could get your number? It’d be nice to have it in case we need to meet and go over the interview again.”

My eyes rounded in shock. Was he… asking her out? In front of me?

Evelyn giggled again. “I think I have a business card here somewhere.” Then, she produced one so swiftly that I was certain she had been waiting for the moment to hand it to him all along.

“A pleasure.” He dipped down and kissed her hand.

“As always, Court.”

Then, he smiled indulgently again and walked back over to me. “Ready, English?”

A frown had taken up residence on my lips, and I carefully pulled it back into neutrality. “Yes. Let’s get out of here. We need to prepare for the announcement still.”

We stepped out of the photo shoot and into an elevator. Court swiped the business card back and forth across his palm with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“So, you think I have a chance?” he asked me.

“With what?”

“Evelyn.”

I arched my eyebrows at him. “Seems too easy, if I’m being honest.”

“You think so?”

His eyes smoldered on me. So bright and all-knowing.

Bastard.

“I think we should concentrate on the announcement tomorrow. That matters more than your dating life.”

He laughed, cool and calculating. “I think I’ll still call her.”

“You do that,” I said, feigning indifference.

“Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t.”

“Besides her being a journalist?”

“Besides that, yes.”

“Can’t think of anything,” I said plainly.

He smirked. As if he knew exactly what I was thinking. And then