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“Do you feel you have anything in common with your character?”
“You mean Reva Lane, the jewel thief better known as the Midnight Shadow?” She chuckled, then made a dramatic gesture with both hands. “Well, I’ve never knocked over a jewelry store, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He laughed. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean her attitude, her outlook on things. Do you share anything like that with her?”
Her gaze shifted, as if she were looking outside at the falling rain. “I’d like to think I’m as fearless and intelligent as she is.” She eyed him. “What made you ask that question?”
“I see a little of her in you. At least I think I do, based on our limited interactions.”
She shifted a little closer to him, changing position until she sat cross-legged, right next to him. Their thighs were now touching again, just as they had when they were sitting on the landing earlier. “Care to elaborate on that?”
“I see you as guarded, closed off.”
She pursed her lips.
Sensing her annoyance, he held up his hand. “Wait, hear me out. I also see you as confident and self-assured. That’s probably what stood out to me the most about the character, and I saw it again in Della’s the other day.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw you with your costar. I can tell she’s not your favorite person, but you kept it very professional. At least from what I saw.” He stretched his arms over his head, to shake off some of the stiffness from sitting so long in one position. “I did leave before the scene finished filming, but I’m gonna assume you didn’t go upside her head.”
She laughed then, releasing a full, diaphragm-deep sound that brightened his whole world. When she finally recovered, she shook her head, the mirth still visible in her eyes. “You’re a mess!”
“But I’m right, though.”
She giggled. “Yeah. I’m not too fond of Mia, but I’m not about to jeopardize my career for her or anyone else.”
He smiled. “See, that’s what I mean. You’ve got your head on straight, your priorities are in order and your path laid out. You’re out here going for what you want without waiting for permission. I respect that.”
The humor dancing in her eyes morphed into something else. She held his gaze. “Do you really think that? Or is this just flattery?”
“It’s the truth. Yeah, I’ll admit I feel like a teenage boy who got pulled onstage with his favorite singer right now.” Damn. Didn’t mean to say that aloud. He ran a hand over his face. “But I meant every word I said.”
The soft smile on her face grew even bigger. “Wow.”
He smiled back, still trying to read that look in her eyes. What is she thinking right now?
A moment later, she leaned toward him. Her small hand came up to cup his jaw. “You’re quite the charmer, Campbell Monroe.”
“Not really.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. His face tingled beneath the warmth of her touch. “I’m just honest.”
She tilted her head, letting her eyes drift closed as her lips formed that unmistakable pucker shape.
He didn’t know how they’d gotten here, but he wasn’t about to turn down an invitation like that. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then gently touched his lips to hers. Her lips were plump, soft and made for kissing. They tasted of some fruit-flavored lip gloss, and as he gave her a series of little pecks on the lips, he got a taste of it every few seconds.
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