Land of Enchantment (2 page)

'Lord! I never realized you were so bitter.' Vanessa eyed her curiously. 'You must have really been burnt.'

'A long time ago,' Diana answered grimly, remembering the shock she had suffered when she discovered she was just a beautiful possession to a man she had liked very much.

It had hurt at the time, but now she could barely remember what he looked like. It hadn't really made her bitter; although she might have sounded that way. It only reaffirmed her desire to marry and settle down, but not with just anybody, only Mr. Right. At twenty-four, she was beginning to wonder if he would ever come along. Like everything else, Diana bottled that question inside her, keeping the poised, confident mask in place for the outside world.

'Oh, honey, you look beautiful in that!' Vanessa exclaimed as Diana locked the zipper in place and turned to inspect the slack jumpsuit in the full-length mirror.

The white fabric was one of those new lightweight synthetic knits that stretched and moulded over a figure. There was only the slightest flare of the pants at her ankles before the material tightened at the knee and over the thigh to hug her waist, stretch over her breasts and around her neck in a halter, leaving her back bared. The striking feature of the outfit was the embroidered thunderbird design in bold turquoise colours that adorned the slack portion like a stripe up the side. It accentuated the blueness of Diana's eyes just as the white fabric complemented the pale colour of her hair.

'You don't think it shows too much, do you?' she asked, as she pulled the plunging vee front closer together in an attempt to hide part of the cleavage of her breasts.

'Of course it does,' Vanessa laughed, 'but it's supposed to.'

At that moment the trailer door opened again and an older, auburn-haired woman walked in. She was dressed in a tailored corduroy pant suit with a heavy walking jacket. The rusty colour accented the red in her hair. Glasses hung from a gold chain about her neck and there was a no-nonsense look in her face.

'Good,' she said briskly, looking Diana over. 'You're just about ready. Here's the jewellery that goes with that outfit.'

Diana slipped the heavy turquoise and silver bracelet over her wrist and began putting on the matching earrings, aware of the scrutiny she was receiving from her employer, Connie Deveronne. After six years of modelling, the impersonal minute inspection still made Diana uncomfortable, but she never let it show.

'Have you been gaining weight?' Connie demanded in an accusing voice.

'No.' Diana remained unruffled, knowing the scales had not changed in over three years, thanks to a closely watched diet.

'Your measurements are shifting, then.' Her employer's eagle eye settled on the rounded curve of breast the low neckline revealed. 'We're trying to sell the dress and not your body. Are you wearing a brassiere?'

'Yes,' she answered, keeping her eyes firmly averted and concentrating on the last earring being securely fastened. Only Diana knew that the light pink in her cheeks didn't come from any rouge.

'Take it off. It might flatten you a little to be without it.' With that order given, Connie turned and walked towards the door. 'Rick will be ready for you in about ten minutes.'

'The old baggage!' Vanessa made a face at the door. 'Doesn't she realize you're only going to look more sexy without it?'

'Haven't you realized that it's all right for us models to look sexy as long as it's the clothes we're wearing that makes us that way,' Diana laughed.

She couldn't admit how uncomfortably naked she felt without all of her undergarments. Vanessa would only laugh at her for being so prudishly modest and old-fashioned. Still, a few minutes later when Diana stepped out of the door of the trailer, she couldn't help thinking that all the eyes turned her way were looking at only one thing. She forced herself to appear unconcerned, but her fluid movements were hurried, as she subconsciously tried to escape the prying eyes.

The weather was cool. A sweater would have been welcome to cover her bare arms dappled with goose-bumps. The nippy air made the animals frisky. Horses were prancing and pulling at their bits, snorting and sending puffy clouds of their frosty breath into the air.
Half-way to where she was to meet the photographer, Diana met Stella on her way back to the trailer.

'How's it going?' Diana asked as Stella paused in front of her and turned to smile at a cowboy's complimentary whistle.

'Pretty good,' Stella replied, glancing around quickly. 'Connie's a little uptight because we're beginning to draw a crowd, but believe me, some of the looks will keep you warm.'

'Hey, babe! What are you doing tonight?' A cowboy pulled his horse to a stop beside them and eyed Diana boldly.

'Sitting home with my sick mother,' she answered easily. 'Better luck next time.'

The lean wiry figure wasn't at all put off by her weak excuse, but he tipped his hat and rode on. He hadn't really expected any different. Diana watched him for a moment before turning back to Stella and the knowing twinkle in her eyes.

'See what I mean?' Stella smiled. Diana raised her eyebrows in agreement before catching sight of the auburn-haired woman approaching.

'I'd better get going. Here comes Connie now,
'
Diana nodded towards the woman.

Connie Deveronne hustled Diana to where Rick, the photographer, waited. After only a few pictures, the young man lowered his camera, shaking his fair head. Connie was immediately at his side inquiring what was wrong.

'The white outfit needs a better background.' The man looked around him searchingly. 'Something with a bolder colour more defined.'

Diana hovered to the side, shivering in the lightweight fabric. Patience was the byword of a model with endurance coming in a strong second. She kept her attention focused on Rick and Connie, avoiding the cowboys seated on a nearby fence railing. She knew she was the object of their muffled laughter and whispering conversation. Dressed as she was, she felt singularly vulnerable.

'Come on, Diana,' Rick called. 'We're going to try the arena instead of these livestock pens.'

Dutifully she joined them, seeing the cowboys out of the corner of her eye as they hopped down from their perch and joined the procession. If she hadn't been so ill at ease, it would have been amusing, especially considering the disgusted expression on Connie's face. It wasn't a long walk to the rodeo arena, but it wasn't made any shorter by the chill in the air. Diana hugged her arms about her shoulders to ward off some of it with her own body heat. The gesture brought an instant offer from one of the cowboys for Diana to take his jacket.

'Don't you dare put that smelly thing over that outfit!' Connie whispered threateningly.

As much as Diana would have liked to accept, she refused the offer with a smile of appreciation. Then they were all walking into the arena on to the red-brown dirt. There were only a few horses and riders inside, but their entourage of cowboys quickly positioned themselves on the heavy wooden rails. Diana stood quietly as Rick and Connie discussed the situation, not paying too close attention until Rick let out a low whistle.

'That guy is straight out of a cigarette commercial,' he murmured to Connie. 'And have you ever seen a horse like that? This will be perfect!'

Even as Rick started walking forward his hand raised in the air, Diana was trying to follow his direction. It only took her a second to see what
 
had caught the photographer's eye. On the far side of the arena was a horse and rider cantering through a series of figure eights. The horse was blood red with flashy black stockings to above his knees and a black mane and tail. The man astride the horse was the personification of every publicity man's dream of a cowboy. He sat tall and erect in the saddle, each fluid movement of the horse matched by himself. The man was lean and tanned, dressed in faded blue levi's with a matching denim jacket lined with sheepskin. And on his head he wore a weathered brown stetson hat, pulled low over his face.

As the cowboy caught sight of Rick waving to him, he slowed his horse to a stop and walked in their direction. Diana watched as he sat immovable in the saddle and listened to Rick. Something in the man's bearing made her think that he would refuse to have himself and his horse act as a backdrop for Rick's pictures. There was the slightest hesitation before he looked to where Diana was standing beside Connie and nodded agreement.

Rick motioned her forward and Diana quickly complied. Precious time had been spent finding a suitable background, and Rick didn't waste any more of it making introductions between his model and the cowboy. Diana didn't even get a chance to study the man up close as Rick hurriedly moved her into position on the right side of the horse and began giving instructions. She was intrigued by the man atop the horse and in between snaps she sneaked quick glances in his direction.

Swift impressions of a lean hard face, tanned and clean-shaven, were formed. The shadow of his hat brim made it difficult to determine the colour of his hair, but Diana thought it was brown. His eyes were a different matter. One look they appeared blue and in another they were grey. Yet in all of her stolen glances one thing stood out, and that was his arrogant remoteness, as if all this was beneath his dignity. For some reason, Diana wasn't offended by his coldness that bordered on contempt. On the contrary, it fascinated her.

'Put your left foot in the stirrup,' Rick ordered, his face concealed behind the black camera. 'Stand in it suspended beside the horse.'

Diana did as she was told, finding she had to hold on to the rider's shoulder to keep her balance. The sheep-skin-lined jacket gave until it hit the solid muscle of his shoulder and arm. It was a strange sensation being so near this stranger. On the ground, she had thought he was no taller than the average man, but now she realized she had made too much allowance for the horse. The man was tall, easily over six foot.

'Now, turn and look at him, Diana,' Rick instructed.

His eyes were grey. She wondered how she had ever thought they were blue. They were slate grey - no, she reconsidered quickly. They were granite, as hard and unyielding as granite. Even the contours of his face were angular and uncompromising, too rugged to be handsome and too compelling not to be attractive. His masculinity was revealed in his strong features, just as his virility was in the sensuous line of his mouth. There was a slight bump in his otherwise straight nose that indicated that it had been broken at one time. But it didn't detract. In fact, Diana discovered it added to the look of an eagle about him, proud, commanding and free. Subconsciously she remembered that an eagle was a predatory bird.

His study of her had been just as thorough, only slightly less obvious. Then Diana noticed his gaze lingering on her low vee neckline, and immediately her cheeks flamed with colour. It didn't take an expert eye to determine that she was bra-less. Diana doubted that this man would be shocked by the discovery, but she was. She knew the category men placed models in, and she had just reinforced it. When his gaze lifted to her eyes, she saw the look of amusement in it. But the-amusement was generated by the flush in her cheeks.

Rick was shouting more instructions to her and Diana had thankfully to turn away. In seconds, she was once more in command of her composure, although she was intensely aware of the man in the saddle. The thought kept running through her mind that she had never been so self-conscious in the presence of any other man. What was so different about this one? He was only a rodeo cowboy.

Just as Diana was striking another pose, one of the gates at the chutes swung shut with a loud bang. The blood bay horse that had stood with such restless restraint jumped forward, and Diana let out a startled gasp as she felt herself falling backwards to the turf. But the man's reflexes were instantaneous. His right hand shot around her waist as his left drew on the reins to check his mount's flight.

In the span of seconds, Diana was clutched tightly against his chest, held by the iron band of his arm. Her own arms circled his shoulders with her head buried beneath his chin. The closeness permeated her with the scent of his masculinity. She felt the flexing of his muscles as he controlled the horse and maintained his grip on her. The horse was stopped now, his head tossing in agitation and his hooves beating an in-place cadence.

The danger was over, but the blood still pounded in Diana's temples and her heartbeat had accelerated. She moved her head away from beneath the man's chin to stare wide-eyed into his calm face. Her waist was pinioned tightly against him, arching her closer. Only inches separated their faces. An invisible message was being exchanged
by their eyes until Diana felt transformed by the wonder of it. His face remained as hard and remote as it ever was, but something had changed. Something had been transmitted between them and it was still tingling through her body.

'Are you all right?' His quiet voice seemed to come from a long way off.

'Yes,' she breathed softly when she realized he was waiting for an answer.

Then they were no longer alone. Rick and Connie came rushing up to them, their concern dividing itself between Diana and the white jumpsuit. Effortlessly the man lowered her to the ground with one arm. Deprived of the warmth of his body, Diana shivered as she shrugged off her employer's inquiries. Connie turned her attention to the smudge mark on the knee of the slacks. The mark was too noticeable for any further photographs, but Rick consoled Connie with the fact that he thought he had sufficient. Diana
was to return to the trailer and change.