Mistletoe Magic (5 page)

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Authors: Lynn Patrick

BOOK: Mistletoe Magic
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“You pout well,” he said, looking at her through the Hasselblad camera.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, you’re very photogenic. You look as cute as an angry sugar cookie.”

“Let’s leave out the cute remarks, okay?”

“What’s wrong with cute? You may as well use any qualities others see in you to your personal advantage. All professional models do.”

“I’m not a professional model.”

“You could be for some Haldan-Northrop promotions if Hux likes these shots. I’m sure he’ll want you to appear sweet and wholesome.”

Knowing he was right, Melissa conceded, “All right. I’ll try my best to pose as you want. I like to think there are aspects to my personality that are more positive than cute, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe we can explore those today too.” His tone was soft and seductive. Gazing into his intense, hooded eyes, she could imagine them heated with desire. “Exploring can be very exciting.”

Was he suggesting something questionable? Melissa glared at him fiercely. “What do you mean by that remark?”

“I mean we can try different expressions, different shots if you like. You’ll have to tell me a little about yourself.” Rafe’s eyes raked her intently. “Maybe I’ll get some ideas for poses that will reveal the real you.”

“What would you like to know?” she asked suspiciously, wondering if this was where he got personal.

“Ah, ha! Your eyes are lighting up with interest.” He peered into the camera. “Now turn a little to the left. That’s good.” The shutter clicked. “Try smiling dreamily. Tilt your chin up. Good. How long have you been one of Santa’s helpers? Do you play the role every year?”

That was it? Having thought he was about to delve into her love life or something, Melissa heaved a sigh of relief and said, “This is my first time.”

“How did you get the job?”

“I found out about it through a friend and applied.”

“Is helping Santa your usual kind of work?”

“Of course. I’m a holiday specialist. I plan to dress up as an Easter egg with legs in the spring.” Melissa smirked. Unused to being sarcastic, she found it hard to carry off with a straight face.

“I suppose you’ll be a firecracker by summer.”

“Probably.”

Watching the photographer adjust some lights on metal stands, Melissa admired the way the beige cableknit sweater he wore with neat brown pants hugged his compact form. Thinking about clothing made her remember to ask him about her costume.

“I didn’t know whether or not you wanted to photograph me in my costume, so I brought it. I can take these things off if you want.” She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

Continuing to work with the lights, Rafe had a wicked gleam in his eye. “Feel free to take off any clothes you want to.”

Melissa had known this was going to happen! “If you think I’m going to take off my—”

“Since these are only test shots, it doesn’t matter what you wear.” He took a good look at her and shrugged. “What you’ve got on is fine.”

Even though she was relieved he didn’t expect her to undress, Melissa wished he appreciated the trouble she’d gone to with her appearance this morning. Did he think she was wearing any old outfit? She’d searched through her closet at least three times before settling on a pale blue sweater and a full cotton skirt worn over some lacy, beribboned antique petticoats. Teaming the garments with high-heeled, lace-up boots, Melissa had thought she looked quite romantic. But perhaps Rafe preferred a more sophisticated look for a woman. She clenched her jaw. She shouldn’t even wonder what Rafe would like in a woman. What did she care?

“So, you’re a sugarplum fairy. I thought you were into teeth.”

“Santa Claus wouldn’t have a tooth fairy for a helper, would he?” Melissa asked primly, glad he’d returned to a safe topic.

“No, I suppose not. Tilt your chin down. Why did you pick New York for your dramatic debut? Does your family live here or have you been going to school?”

How old did he think she was? “I haven’t been in school for a long time—at least, not as a student.” At his questioning look, she explained. “I was only joking about being a holiday specialist. I’m a teacher. Last year I taught a sixth-grade class in the public school system.”

“Really? You must have graduated a couple of years ago then. I wouldn’t call that such a long time.”

Rafe examined the lens of the camera. His casual attitude made Melissa think he didn’t believe her.

“I graduated from college six years ago,” she insisted, wondering why she felt compelled to make him believe what she said. “Before I came to New York, I taught second grade for four years in a small town near Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Since I didn’t have much tenure, I was laid off when enrollment went down. That’s when I came to New York to get a job.”

“Hmm.”

Melissa crossed her legs and raised her chin slightly. “I’m twenty-eight years old, you know.”

He stared at her. “Oh, come on.”

“Do you want to see my driver’s license?”

“Twenty-eight? Seriously?” Rafe’s scoffing expression changed. Suddenly, he seemed really interested in whatever she had to say. “Why aren’t you teaching now? Did you give it all up for the toy department?”

“No. The job didn’t work out.” Melissa wasn’t about to explain that she’d felt overwhelmed by kids who were larger than she was and intimidated by some of their hardened, inner-city personalities. “Now I have a part-time job with the library system in the reading enrichment program. I tell small children stories to get them interested in reading. I’ve also applied to some private schools for teaching positions.”

Rafe moved to her side and put his hands on her shoulders. “Keep them straight.” Then he slipped his hands around her waist. “But turn your lower body this way.” Melissa was trying to catch her breath from the effects of his warm fingers when he asked, “So if you’re really a twenty-eight-year-old teacher, where did this crazy sugar-plum fairy job come from?”

“Until I get an appropriate full-time position, I pick up part-time work in addition to the reading program.”

“Really?” Rafe cupped her face and tilted it toward the light. “This pose should be flattering.”

Their noses were scant inches apart. Was he thinking about making a pass? Feeling uncomfortable and defensive, Melissa pulled back. Talking about her job problems had brought up bad memories. Now he was making her edgy with his physical manipulations.

“Do you have to stand so close?”

“I’m just trying to do my job. Is your hair color natural?”

“Do you interrogate all your subjects like this?”

“Interrogate? No, I always try to establish rapport. With the really small ones, I have to make faces or do other silly things to get them interested.”

“That sounds weird.”

“It isn’t weird. They like it.”

“What kind of strange small women do you photograph?”

“Women?” Rafe had a puzzled look on his face.

“Your models,” she insisted.

“I don’t usually photograph women. I specialize in children.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Rafe’s questioning frown turned into an expression of amused enlightenment as he finally caught the drift of her meaning. A wide grin split his face. “Hey, what kind of work do you think I do? Sorry to disappoint you, but the only nudes I do are babies on bearskin rugs. Want to see my portfolio?”

A giggle started low in her throat. Then Rafe snorted. Soon they were both laughing uproariously.

Rafe shook his head at Melissa’s assumption. He could hardly believe she’d thought he was a girlie magazine photographer. Was that why she’d been so cool with him? Because she’d disapproved? No doubt she had assumed he’d wanted her to take off her clothes, Rafe thought, remembering he’d told her to feel free…He hadn’t been able to stop himself from teasing her, not since the moment he’d kissed her.

“I guess the way I’ve been acting made you think I was some kind of—”

“Pushy playboy,” Melissa finished for him.

“And here I am a devoted and fairly conservative father, a homebody who mainly photographs kids. Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

“That’s okay. I made a few silly assumptions all by myself.”

The sincere expression in her incredible blue eyes sent his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively. Her pretty mouth curved into a luscious smile and Rafe felt his heart beat a little faster. He’d been giving himself a hard time for being attracted to someone so young, and discovering she was only four years younger than he was was a relief. For the moment, however, he’d better concentrate on his work.

“Well, now that that’s cleared up, why don’t we try some action shots? Can you walk back and forth between those marks on the floor?”

“Sure.”

Gazing through the camera, he took in her delicate features, the soft sweep of hair that looked gold in the bright light. Her small breasts were outlined by her soft sweater, and as she walked her hips swung gracefully beneath the layers of petticoats and skirt. Melissa turned and smiled at the camera’s lens. Was she giving him
the
expression again? His body reacting to it, Rafe groped for a safe topic of conversation.

“So you’re a teacher, huh? We both have something in common, working with children and all.”

“Yes, and you have two beautiful children yourself.”

“Aren’t they great? They’re the best part of my marriage—my ex-marriage, that is. I’m divorced. My wife lives in California now.” But he didn’t want to talk about Nicole. “Okay, why don’t we do some close-ups now? Sit down again.”

As Rafe switched to a portrait lens, Melissa repeated, “Your wife lives in California?”

“My ex-wife. I don’t have a wife at the moment. Not that I wouldn’t like one, but it’s hard to find a woman who’ll accept a ready-made family.” Trying to distract her from asking questions about his disastrous marriage, he jokingly said, “Guess I should put an ad in the paper or something.”

“Do you think it would work?”

“Probably not. I need a miracle.”

After turning a spotlight directly on her, he moved nearer to adjust her pose. Her eyelashes fluttered as, with one gentle hand, he turned her face toward the light. Her clear skin was as soft as silk and he could see the pulse beating in her throat. Rafe was pleased she didn’t try to move away, though her eyes were wide, staring at him. Standing so close, watching her pink lips part as she inhaled, he wanted to cover them with his own. Would she resist?

But any ideas he had were vanquished by the sound of the front door being slammed open.

“Daddy!” Gretta ran across the studio and jumped into his arms. Then the little girl noticed Melissa. “The tooth fairy! How come you’re here? I didn’t lose another tooth yet.”

“I can get rid of one for you, Sis,” said Hank, pretending to threaten her as he held up a fist. When he received a stern look from Rafe, he amended, “Aw, I’m just kidding, Dad. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“How come you don’t have your wings on?” Gretta demanded, running over to Melissa and clutching one of her hands. She reached down to brush at the small girl’s bangs.

“They’re too heavy to wear every day.”

“And what are you doing here with Daddy?”

“Uncle Hux wanted me to take some pictures of her,” Rafe explained, grabbing Gretta and tossing her up and down so she squealed with delight. “Before I get back to work and you go upstairs with your grandmother, tell me how school was today.”

“We played a pretend game!” Gretta told him excitedly. “We had pretend prizes and stuff and I won! Then we practiced coloring and writing A,B,C. Then I made a phone call.”

“To whom?” Rafe frowned as he knelt beside his daughter, holding her loosely within his arms.

“To Mommy,” said Gretta. “She said everything was better and we’re gonna see her longer this time. We’re gonna have some neat Christmas and it’s gonna last for lots of days!”

“Don’t worry, Dad. She only called from a play phone,” Hank explained. “They have a bunch of those plastic ones in the first-grade rooms.”

Putting his arms around both kids, Rafe led them back toward the entryway and talked to Hank. “I’m not worrying. It’s just that I like to be there when you call your mother. I appreciate your keeping an eye on your little sister, son. It makes me proud you’re so responsible. How’d everything go with you?”

“Okay. I’m going to put my geography lesson on my computer.”

“Will that help?”

“It’ll make it more fun. When are you going to get through in here, Dad?” Unsmiling, Hank glanced over his shoulder at Melissa. The look he gave her was significant, almost a glare, and she had a momentary feeling of uneasiness. Was the boy still resentful over the attention afforded his sister the other night?

“I’ll be done in time for dinner. In the meantime, why don’t you keep your grandmother company? Later, I want to hear more about your schoolwork. Louise!” Rafe yelled as he entered the front hallway.

“Gran brought us home from school and she sweared at a taxi driver!” Gretta babbled loudly.

“I did not swear!” Melissa heard Louise say as the front door opened again, although she couldn’t see the older woman from where she was sitting. “I said ‘insane beast.’ Those are not swear words, Gretta.”

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