While we sat there waiting for a producer to check in, we could hear what sounded like a reality TV starlet through the wall bitching to someone on the phone about everything under the sun.

It reminded me to mention, “Watch what you say when we’re here. The walls are paper thin between dressing rooms, and you never know who’s sitting next door listening. Once you’re micced, it could be live without you realizing it, so anything can be picked up.”

“Noted.” She smirked. “So what you’re saying is I shouldn’t mention your fetish for slugs until we get back home?”

“Letting you go on TV is a bad plan, isn’t it? At least it isn’t live,” I mumbled.

Hair and makeup came in, the sound guy got us set up with mics, and a producer came to run through what we would be talking about and to make sure we knew what to expect. They were staying away from discussion of the VP video, but we’d address everything else head-on.

I’d gone through this song and dance so many times now promoting films, but it was the first time I’d been addressing something this intensely personal. Elena looked as in her element as she always did, but she was tense.

When we were finally alone again, she spun in a circle, making her dress flare out. “Am I camera ready?”

“You look stunning.”

She did look great, but my attraction to her went so far beyond that. I was addicted to that playful look in her eyes and the way she tilted her chin when she wanted to challenge me. The intense expression she got when she was studying people and the unselfconscious way she demanded pleasure. It had taken weeks just to feel like she was giving me a glimpse of who she really was and I wanted the rest, dammit.

She brushed off my compliment like I’d known she would. “I really need to convince V that we should hire hair and makeup for the dungeon dressing room because I could get used to this.”

“It’s not the hair and makeup that makes you stunning.” I reached for her, but she evaded my grasp, waving her hands at her hair and lapel mic.

We were escorted down to the green room to sit until they were ready for us. Elena looked pale, and it was the first time I’d ever seen her fidgeting while we sat and listened to the faint sounds of them warming the audience up.

“Don’t tell me the unflappable Lady Elena is nervous…” I said.

“Fuck off.”

“Do I need to clean your mouth out before we go on camera? I don’t have any soap, but I can think of something else I could shove in there.” Her eyes flared with interest when I stroked my thumb along her bottom lip, but she quickly pushed my hand away. I was trying to distract her, but it wasn’t working.

She said, “Forgive me for being less than excited about going on national television to replay my humiliation for all the world to see.”