The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) by Victoria Wessex Read Free Book Online

“I think…if you’re going to play a lord…people are going to want you to be different to them. More…refined.”
    He raised one eyebrow. “You’re saying I’m unrefined?” His voice was a low rumble.
    I swallowed.
    “Relax. I get it. I’m more like a Mustang, or a Dodge Charger, right? All brute power. And I need to be more like a Jaguar,”—he pronounced it Jag-wah— “more…controlled.”
    “It’s maybe not the analogy I would have picked,” I said slowly. “But yes. More controlled.”
    He slowly picked up his fork and started to eat again, this time using his knife, too.
    “Don’t attack the food,” I told him. “You look like a famer.”
    He burst out laughing. “You got a problem with farmers?”
    I colored. “I didn’t mean—I just mean that for the movie, it’s inappropriate.”
    He nodded. “I get it, I get it. It’s just funny. Go on, my Ladyship. Tell me how I should be doing it.”
    The my ladyship thing sent a sort of quiver through me and I wasn’t sure why. “The food is not the enemy,” I told him. “Don’t hack at it. I shouldn’t hear the knife on the plate. The blade should never touch the china except to softly caress it.”
    Tanner stared at me.
    “It’s what it said in an old manners book I read,” I told him.
    “They don’t just teach you all this, in Britain?” he asked.
    “No. I…read it.” I looked down at my plate, hoping he didn’t ask why I’d read it.
    “Well, I’m glad you did,” said Tanner. “I want to get this right.” He looked down at his hands. “Like this?” he asked, slicing a cube of feta cheese in half.
    I bit my lip. Was he for real, or just trying to make me feel better? “Not…quite,” I said. “But, you know, it’s probably fine. It probably doesn’t matter that much—”
    He leaned forward and I was struck again by how big he was, like a bear looming over me. It should have been intimidating, but somehow it wasn’t. My eyes were drawn to the triangle of tan skin revealed by the collar of his polo shirt. I could see the tops of his pecs there, smooth and deliciously big. “You remember that movie I did, with a car chase through three states?”
    I nodded. “ Hard and Dangerous. ”
    “Well, when they cast me for that movie, I could barely drive. I mean, I could drive down the highway, but I couldn’t drive fast, you know? And they said that’s fine, we got stunt drivers and people to do all that.”
    I leaned closer. “Okay….”
    “But I wanted to get it right, you know? Like, how they do the gear changes really fast. How they hold the wheel in a skid. So I went and found this gang of real-life street racers. Met up with them every week for a month, paying to ride shotgun while they raced. We nearly got caught by the cops about a million times, but it was worth it. It meant I got it right.”
    My eyes were wide. “Really? You really did that?”
    “Oh yeah. Nice bunch of people. Lori, the one I drove with was called. And there was another one they called Princess, and a big guy called ‘B’.” He looked at me seriously. “So when I say I want to get it right...I want to get it right. This stuff matters to me.”
    I nodded dumbly.
    “Come around behind me and show me.”
    I slowly got up and walked around to stand behind his chair. Then I leaned forward and took his hands in mine. Oh God! His hands were so warm! Not hot and sweaty—warm and dry and somehow very solid. My own hands looked tiny by comparison. “Slowly,” I told him. “Patiently. You’re a rich lord. You have all the time in the world. Savor the food.” I guided his hands and he let them move under my control. I sliced into a tomato, the juice squirting and oozing. “Move the knife... languidly. Like you’re playing an instrument.”
    He nodded.
    “And small bites,” I told him. “Morsels.”
    “How big?” he wanted to know. “Show me.” He turned his head to the side so that he could look at me.
    My heart was thumping