give them your best marine glare. You can watch what the girls do on that screen right there.” She pointed to a flat-screen television. “Kayleigh is the stage manager and she’ll tell you when to go on. You’ll enter here, and exit the stage on the other side. I can’t thank you guys enough. And I’ll owe you big if we can just get through the next twenty minutes.”
He was a marine, and would have helped her no matter what, but Will liked the fact she felt she owed him. He could think of at least thirty different ways she could pay him back.
Mind out of the gutter, Marine.
“We’ve got it covered,” Will told her.
“That’s right,” Rafe said. “If there’s one thing marines can do, it’s follow orders.”
“You guys really are the best.” She squeezed Will’s arm. Then she left to take her position near the other side of the stage.
“Sir, we’ve been in some tough situations, but I never thought I’d have to be a male model,” Rafe whispered. “Promise me none of the guys will ever hear about this. Otherwise we’ll never live it down. Though, I got to admit, I love these damn jeans.”
Will chuckled. “Mine could be a size bigger, but I like them, too. And trust me, no one will ever hear a word out of me. I appreciate you helping out.”
Rafael shrugged. “It’s what we do.”
“Showtime!” The stage manager waved her hand.
“Sir?”
“Yeah, Rafe?”
“Are you nervous?”
“We’re marines. We don’t have nerves.” He winked at the man. “But if I did, I’d tell you I’d rather be in the desert fighting hostiles than walking out on that stage.”
“Me, too, sir. Me, too.”
Poor guy. They’d been looking forward to doing some sightseeing before they had to report to the UN the next day as part of a defense attaché force. It would be Will’s job to coordinate the teams assigned to protect foreign dignitaries for a global conference in town. Most of the preliminary work had been done, so he and Rafe had been kicking around the past twenty-four hours as tourists.
“You’re up!” A woman touched his arm and gently shoved him forward. Will hadn’t even noticed he’d advanced to the stage. He swallowed and walked up the few steps. He saw Rafe exit the other side, and the stage manager told him to go.
The lights blinded him as he stepped out onto the white-carpeted floor and walked to what he hoped was the end. He couldn’t really see until he damn near fell off the thing. He stood there for a moment while the cameras flashed, but couldn’t figure out why everyone was screaming. People were up on their feet clapping. He turned and walked back, forcing himself not to run.
“Holy crap! They’ve gone ape out there.” Hannah was there to guide him off the stage. “You two were amazing.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Will full on the mouth. He wanted it to last longer, but then she moved on to Rafe. The other man received a hug, but not a kiss. That sat just fine with Will.
She took them both by the hands. “Okay, you two, one more time down and back and we are done.”
“Again?” he and Rafe said at the same time.
Laughing, she pulled them up the steps and onto the stage.
The lights were different this time and he could see more of the audience. They were giving Hannah a standing ovation. He had no right to be proud of her, but he was. He held up her hand as if she’d won a prizefight. They walked that way to the end of the stage and back.
He helped her down the steps and then she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Marine, I have to do some press for a bit, and then we can do anything you want. You name it!” She gave him another quick peck and she was off.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re going to tell me to get lost?” Rafe chuckled behind him.
“As soon as I find my pants you’re getting a hundred bucks, and I’m giving you the night off to see the city,” Will told him.
“That’s all right, sir. I think I might be kind of busy, too.” Rafe winked at a model with short pixie hair and blue eyes. She blew him a kiss with her fingers.
“Guess this modeling thing isn’t so bad after all.” Will chuckled.
And the woman of his dreams had promised him anything.
Luckily he knew exactly what he wanted.
2
A DREAMLIKE TRANCE enveloped Hannah in a shroud of happiness.
Success.
The thrill of it pulsed through her veins. For more than an hour and a half one reporter after another interviewed her, and she’d been air-kissed and hugged by hundreds of people she didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, we have appointments to keep this evening. Thank you for coming,” Anne Marie said as she pulled her from the media frenzy.
“That was—”
“Freakin’ stellar.” Anne Marie hugged her.
“We did it.” Hannah squeezed her friend tight.
Kayleigh squealed behind them. “Who knew we would be the hottest thing at Fashion Week? And hello! I just checked the machine at the office, and we have tons o’ calls from buyers and editors.” Kayleigh was a terrific publicist and stage manager. She helped Anne Marie hire the models, and even designed the look of the show within the parameters Hannah had given her.
They gathered hands and did a happy dance they’d made up when they discovered Hannah’s designs had been chosen for this special New Stars of Fashion event.
“Why is it you leave me out of everything?” Jesse, her fabric guru, mumbled. They opened their arms to him.
“Group hug,” Anne Marie ordered. Hannah and the others complied.
“Tonight wouldn’t have happened without you guys,” Hannah stated matter-of-factly.
“Phfft,” Jesse said. “You have more talent than the majority of designers at Fashion Week combined. You would have succeeded no matter what.”
She kissed his cheek. “No, I wouldn’t have. You guys kept me sane. Each of you is so important I can’t even—” Emotion clogged her throat so she cleared it.
“If you cry, I will hit you,” Anne Marie warned. She was a tough one. Dressed in her requisite fishnets, black mini and vintage rocker T-shirt, she knew her friend would follow through with the threat.
“No tears. Just gratitude for some really great friends.”
Someone moved just outside the circle and she saw the handsome marine who had saved her show.
“Hey!”
