Free Close Up and Personal by JS Taylor

hand and hands it to a waiter travelling in the opposite direction.
    “My suite is just along here,” he says, pointing down the corridor and manoeuvring me forward.
    “What makes you think I’m going to go in your suite with you?” I say, wondering where this is going.
    He stops and turns so we are facing each other in the corridor.
    “Isabella,” he says, “I’m sorry if I offended you by bringing you here. Although, you really do look lovely in that uniform.”
    I scowl, and the corners of his mouth lift devilishly for a moment. Then his face turns serious.
    “I wanted to see you,” he says. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
    Whoa! What?
    “Follow me.” He propels me down the corridor again.
    We arrive at an enormous door, and James slips a keycard into the holder. The suite opens up and I’m greeted with the lavish view of Claridges ’ priceless antique furniture and enormous four-poster bed.
    “I don’t have the strength,” he says as we walk in the room, “to stay away from you anymore.”
    I’m still taking in the unexpected words when James shuts the door behind us and sweeps me suddenly into his arms, forcing me back against the door.
    Then his lips are on mine and the hardness of his body is on me.
    I feel an electric current surge through me. He has me pressed against the door, with one hand pinning my shoulder. My lips respond to his, moving in mirror image as his tongue flicks over my mouth. And I am sinking, sinking into him…
    I force a hand between us, pushing him away.
    “Wait,” I say. “I can’t do this.”
    He steps towards me again, but I keep my hand held up in warning.
    “Everything with you,” I gasp, “is just so confusing. You tell me nothing can happen between us, and then you book my entire catering team just to get me alone in your suite.”
    He nods. He is breathing heavily.
    “I have never been involved with an actress, Isabella. But you…”
    “Me what?”
    “I have never met anyone like you,” he says. “As a director, I can’t let your talent go to waste. But as a man…”
    He leaves the sentence hanging.
    “As a man you want us to have sex?” I fill in.
    “I want to do so much more to you than have sex with you,” he says, and his eyes are roaming my body, hungrily.
    I take a deep breath.
    “James. Mr Berkeley. I have agreed to a screen test with you, and I will keep my word. But I also agreed that nothing would happen between us. If we are to work together, I don’t want there to be any…” I search for the word… romantic? “Sexual involvement,” I decide.
    What am I saying? This is the hottest man you’ve ever met, and you’re talking yourself out of fucking him right here, right now, in this room.
    My body is virtually screaming in protest.
    But that’s not what I want. Not this way. And he needs to know it. I turn to leave.
    “Isabella, wait.”
    I move to pull open the door, and he takes hold of my arm. I turn to him, my eyes challenging. Is he going to try and stop me leaving?
    “If you agree to the screen test tomorrow, I agree to your terms,” he says. The light has gone out of his eyes. “I think you’ve misjudged me,” he continues, “but a gentleman does not argue with a lady.”
    And with a little nod of his head , he opens the door for me and lets me leave.
    I half stumble down the corridor, thick with the emotion of what has just happened.
    That kiss.
    Half of me wants so badly to run back to the room. The other, more sensible half, walks my legs back down to the kitchen.
    To my great relief , I almost crash straight into Jerome, who’s sizing up which tray he can pick off canapés from to snack on.
    “Hey,” he says, seeing the upset in my face. “What’s up? Issy? What’s up?”
    I fall gratefully into his arms, and he gives me one of his world-beating hugs.
    “Hey,” he says, “did someone out there upset you.”
    I nod into his shoulder. Why can’t I bring myself to feel something for Jerome? He’s