Free His Allure, Her Passion by Juliana Haygert Page A

Planning on taking them home? If so, please, just be careful so no one sees you. I don’t want to be called a slut anymore.”
    “Hayley, I—”
    “That’s okay, Dylan. I know how you are.” She gently pushed his hands away. “Thanks for inviting me to this party. It would have been a great opportunity for me, but I just need to get home. Have fun.”
    She turned her back to him, but he stepped into her path. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “Going home.”
    “Not until I introduce you to the guy I was just talking to.”
    “Dylan, please, I’m not in the mood.”
    He smirked. “What if the guy is one of the owners of Gaz?”
    “What? The modeling agency? The modeling agency? You’re kidding.”
    “No, I’m not.” He offered his arm. “Come on.”
    Hayley rested her hand on his arm and let him guide her upstairs. A dozen of people from Gaz filled a private area, sipping champagne, gossiping, and people-watching.
    Frankie Cole, one of the agency owners, turned to them with a huge smile. “Mr. Deveraux, you’re back.”
    Dylan glanced Hayley’s way before returning the smile. “I told you I would bring her to you.”
    “Hello, Ms. Allen, I’m Frankie Cole. It’s an honor to meet you.” He extended his hand.
    But Hayley couldn’t move.
    Ever so discreetly, Dylan squeezed her hand on his arm, and, with his other hand, pushed the small of her back.
    With the gentle pressure, she stepped forward and smiled. “Hello. It’s my honor to meet you, Mr. Cole.” She took his hand, hoping her shaking wasn’t too noticeable.
    Mr. Cole sipped from his flute while his eyes travelled down and up her body. “My, I must say, you’re much more beautiful personally than in any of the photos I saw of you.”
    Her cheeks heated up. “Thank you,” she said. What she really wanted to ask was where he had seen photos of her.
    He squinted his eyes and tilted his head. “You know, one of our most valuable clients is looking for new faces.” He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket. “Here. Maybe we should schedule an interview.”
    Again, Hayley froze. It was Dylan who snatched the card from him and said, “Thank you.” He nudged her on the back.
    “Yes, thank you,” she blurted, feeling incredibly stupid and small.
    Before moving his attention back to his companions, Mr. Cole asked Dylan about cars.
    Apparently, the man wanted to buy a new a car and, even though he didn’t understand much about them, he wanted a nice, sleek one. In a daze, Hayley didn’t comprehend one word.
    She just stared at the card on her hand. She had Frankie Cole’s business card, and he told her that maybe they should schedule an interview. Maybe was good. Maybe was wonderful, and she was pleased to take a maybe.
    “So?”
    Hayley looked up at Dylan. She glanced past his shoulder and saw Mr. Cole talking to his business colleagues.
    “I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled. Apparently, her tongue was as numb as her mind. “This is…amazing.”
    “I know.” With his award-winning smile, Dylan gave her a flute of champagne and raised his own to her. “Congratulations. To your success.”
    “Thank you.” She sipped from the flute. “I mean it. Thank you. You’re the one who brought me here.”
    Yes, she was thankful, but she was also frustrated and annoyed. She wanted to be the one to make her career flourish. Now it seemed Dylan would be solely responsible for it if she ever became famous.
    “You’re welcome.” In a long gulp, Dylan emptied his flute.
    His Adam’s apple moved up and down, his strong jaw popped when he tightened his lickable lips, before turning to her with a new smile. It was hard to keep mad at him like this.
    Hayley set her barely touched glass down and straightened her back. “Thank you.”
    She walked away from the VIP area.
    A few seconds later, Dylan caught up with her on the stairs. “Where are you going?”
    “Home.”
    He took the step down from her and stayed eye-level with her.