MARRYING THE ROCKSTAR (#3 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ nineteen ♪🔥

A few hours later, Leo sent me his personal preferences in terms of pictures. And they were completely different from those I'd picked.

So I made a few minor revisions on the article based on his departing words, and sent it all off to SHOW, hopefully before they got a chance to start the process for what I'd previously given them.

I was getting through the door of the garage into the basement lobby of the house when my phone pinged with an email.

The most embarrassing email of my life.

Emmaline,

Thank you for re-submitting your article and revised pictures for Leo Lee's feature in SHOW SoHo. We did want to notify you however that there was an extra photo attached that we don't believe you meant to send? As appealing as it may be, we don't think it's appropriate for this article. If it was sent in error, do let us know and we will destroy it to ensure it never gets into the wrong hands.

Zita

SHOW SoHo

I gasped at the linked photograph, nearly dropping my purse at the doorway, my legs coming close to caving beneath me.

"Shit," I said, hurdling up the stairs, not stopping my mad trek until I made it into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. "Oh, fuck, I'm fucked."

I'd seen what happened to people who accidentally shared risqué pictures. Their name plastered in tabloids, exposed for their indecency, criticized and demeaned, their bodies pulled apart and critiqued.

And even though Zita said she'd destroy it, I couldn't be one hundred percent sure. She was a journalist, after all. And though she didn't publish stuff like that, she knew who did, who would, and for what price.

I almost dialed Leo to ask him what to do, but my instincts lead me to Petra's number, instead.

"Petra," I said, breathless as she picked up within two rings.

"Why do you sound like you committed a murder and you need me to cover it up for you?" She was quick, picking up on my fear the instant I spoke.

"I, uh...well, no murder, but you can do that?"

She chuckled. "Don't underestimate me. If it's not murder, what is it?"

I collapsed onto the bed as I put her on speakerphone to peer at the picture. "I may have fucked something up."

It was thankfully not a full nude; it was one of those Leo had been taking the other day in the studio. He must have sent it to me amongst the pictures he'd chosen for the article.

In it, I was standing in front of that lush armchair, my fingers dipping underneath my bra cups, about to lower them. My nipple wasn't showing, thank fuck, but it was close. Lust was all over my face, my lips parted and pushed out, my tongue about to swipe over them.

"Fucked up what? The wedding?" Petra's tone changed immediately.

Why would she at once assume something was wrong with Leo and I's upcoming nuptials?

"No, I...I was submitting pictures to SHOW SoHo for Leo's article and...well..."

"Ah," she said, a hint of amusement peppering back in. "You sent something you weren't supposed to. You or Leo?"

"Yes. Me." I deflated at not having to explain myself. "Absolute accident. Leo sent me this batch he'd chosen, and this particular picture was in it, and..."