Seducing the Photographer (At First Sight) (3 page)

Bright sunlight woke her. For a moment she settled against the pillows and sought a return to her dreams. Then she remembered where she was. Once again she had leaped but she hadn’t fallen. Still, she had promised she would stay.

She grabbed clothes from the overnight case and hurried to the bathroom. After a quick shower she donned a pale blue silk tee shirt and dark blue silk shorts. When she reached the kitchen she found beer, some cheese, eggs and in the freezer coffee and frozen cinnamon rolls. Her stomach growled. She needed breakfast.

She put the rolls in the microwave to defrost and started coffee. A quick look in Steve’s room relieved her. A soft snore meant he slept. She saw the pain pill container and knew he’d be out for a time. The yearning to wake him with a kiss held her frozen in the doorway. With reluctance she backed away. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. That thought brought tears to her eyes. In everyway but one he was perfect. She dashed to the kitchen and drank a mug of coffee and ate a cinnamon roll. With her purse in hand and the key he’d given her she would find food and return.

After walking up the hill she turned the corner and found The Coffee Mug. If her sister hadn’t told her about the coffee shop and bakery the delicious aromas would have led her inside. She entered and selected a dozen pastries and two loaves of bread. As she paid her bill she heard two women talking.

“Patty Sue has new stock,” one said.

“Guess where I’m headed next,” the other said.

Meg made a decision. Surely Steve would wait. She glanced at her watch. Was the boutique open? She would check. If not she would return. She grabbed her package and strode down the street.

Five minutes later she opened the shop door and fell instantly in lust. The lingerie display captured her complete attention. The hand-painted and embroidered bra and panty sets, the silk night shirts she preferred and some more daring styles made her salivate. Though she hadn’t planned to buy, before ten minutes had passed she packed a stack of have-to-have items on the counter.

The woman at the cash register smiled. “You have to be Allie’s sister.”

“You must be Patty Sue. Allie told me about you. She said your shop was sensational and she was right.”

Patty Sue laughed. “You’re a bigger spender than your sister. Have a man to wear these for?”

Did she? Not if she followed her old and new rules of life. Were the new ones like New Year’s resolutions die to be trashed five minutes after they’d been made? “Nothing says a woman has to dress for a man. I like the flow of silk over my skin.”

The owner nodded. “Now that’s an attitude I like.”

Megan leaned against the counter. “I was wondering if you would agree to have some of your lingerie featured in Good Lookin’. I’d use them in the February issue. If you agree one of our photographers will visit and take pictures of my choices.”

“It’s only August.”

“I know but the issues are planned six months in advance.”

Patty Sue shook her head. “Doesn’t that confuse you?”

“A bit.” Meg slapped her credit card on the counter. “Do you have any for men?”

The woman reached beneath the counter and pulled out a large box. “Just happen to have designed a few. These will be on my shelves by Thanksgiving.” She displayed silk briefs and boxers in a variety of colors. All were hand-painted.

Megan lifted black briefs with a dragon motif. Steve’s muscular body flowed into her thoughts. He would fit them perfectly. Her attempt to delete the picture failed. She sucked in a breath. Her rules had become a fragile barrier between sanity and madness. Could she keep them?

Patty Sue pushed the credit card slip across the counter. “I also do exclusives when someone has an idea.”

Meg laughed. “You don’t have to sell me. Would you sign a release that you won’t let word of the project slip to anyone? Recently I had an exclusive leaked to a rival magazine.”

“No problem. I’ll sign yours and you can sign for what you’ve bought.”

“Done.” Meg pulled the form from her purse. Moments later she carried the purchases from the shop. She walked back to the complex and let herself into Steve’s unit.

He pushed the wheelchair into the living room. All he wore were the black boxers. Her mouth went dry.

“Thought you deserted me.”

“I wouldn’t do that. Went out to find food for you. There was coffee and a roll I ate. There are eggs. Your cupboards are bare.”

He shrugged. “I was away and seldom cook. The coffee smells great. Allie must have left it in the freezer. What did you buy?”

“Sweet rolls. Bread. I’ll need to buy some cold cuts and other things.”

He arched a brow. “Looks like you found more than food. Care to model?”

The thought of him seeing her in the lingerie she’d bought stirred thoughts she didn’t want to reveal. She feared her burning cheeks gave the information she tried to hide. “Use your imagination.”

“I am.” He leaned forward. “I could look and not touch.”

Temptation waved a hand. Her nipples tightened and a throbbing began to spread through her body. If she wore any of the nightclothes, bras of panties she’d purchased he would see how he stirred her. She filled two mugs with coffee and popped several sweet rolls in the microwave for a quick heat. She sat at the table across from Steve. “We need to make a list so I can go to the store.”

“I want to take a shower.”

“How?” She pointed to the cast. “If water gets inside after a couple of days you’ll smell like a garbage dump.”

“Plastic wrap, a large plastic bag and duct tape.”

“Might work. The choice is yours.” She felt her face heat. How could she help him shower without wanting what he made her desire? As she thought about a nude Steve she gulped.
Her rules of life.
What were they?

* * *

Steve glanced at Meg. Her flush slowly faded. What was she thinking? Could he learn? He finished a second roll. “Meg, my shower.”

She lifted one of the metal chairs with a padded plastic seat and back. “This should work.”

“What?”

“I can’t push the wheelchair into the shower and you’ll need to sit.”

“If a shower is too much work you could give me a bed bath.”

“With ice water.”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t work. The shower’s big enough for two. We could share.”

“Not happening.”

Her quick response made him nod. She was interested. He had to stir the embers into flames. How often did her rules of life kick in? If he could neutralize them he would find everything he hoped for. He groaned.

Concern filled her blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in pain.” Laughter lurked in his throat.

“Where are the pain pills? Is the cast too tight? I remember how the doctor warned my dad when my brothers had casts.”

He met her gaze. “Wrong kind of pain. Step closer and I’ll explain.”

“Said the spider. Not going to happen.” She carried the chair away.

A short time later she pulled a roll of plastic wrap from the cupboard and found a plastic bag, scissors and the duct tape. When she ripped a large piece of the wrap from the roll the material count to itself and formed a crumpled mass. “I hate this stuff.” She placed it on the table and fought to untangle and smooth the wrap.

“There’s a trick. Pull it slow and easy.” He winked. “Slow can be fun.” When he saw her scarlet face and throat he imagined rosy breasts with darker nipples. He shook his head. He’d better play this cool or she would have him begging for the threatened ice bath.

She knelt and applied the clinging plastic to his cast. He shifted in the chair. His shaft engorged. How could she fail to notice his reaction to her? He wished his leg had mended so he could control the situation. Did he really want that? If he hadn’t broken the bone he wouldn’t have this time with her.

She slipped the plastic bag over his cast and taped it just above his knee. She touched his lower thigh.
Higher. Higher.
The words formed but with a huge dollop of self-control she refrained. She rose and moved behind him. “The scrapes are nearly healed. The bruises are multi-colored and healing. You’ll need to have those stitches removed soon.”

Inside the large room she halted the wheelchair. She placed a towel on the seat of the chair. When he stood she held a large bath towel.

“Once you’re in the shower, lower your boxers and sit. I’ll pull them off. Just keep a good hold on the towel.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll be stuck in here for a long time.”

He grinned. “Won’t you even peek?”

“Never.”

“Damn.” He sat on the kitchen chair and dropped his boxers. He glanced up and chuckled. Meg’s face glowed. Her eyes were tightly closed.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Always.”

“That’s not the ready I mean.” She handed him a washcloth and the soap. “Where are your clothes?” She turned on the water and closed the shower door.

“Shorts in the bottom dresser drawer. Tee shirts in the one above. Boxers and briefs in the top drawer – right hand one.”

“See you.”

“Don’t I wish.” He heard the bathroom door close.

Chapter Three

Meg stepped into the hall and leaned against the closed bathroom door. If she didn’t get a grip on her flailing emotions she would end up doing what she wanted not what she should do. Since Steve’s arrival at the magazines’ offices she’d been attracted. His reputation for romancing women had followed him from his old job to the new. Her desire for a permanent relationship made her place a lock on her emotions. Unfortunately Steve had the key to the lock.

Why couldn’t she be as fortunate as her sister and fallen for a man ready to settle on one woman? A weekend for Allie had ended with a wedding coming in December. Even their father had reconnected with an old love. Then there were her brothers. Meg had no intention of imitating them. Mark and Luke enjoyed variety and flitted from woman to woman like bees seeking honey.

Meg sighed. She wanted everything. She wanted to marry the man of her dreams. She wanted to continue as the editor of Good Lookin’. She wanted a home and family. Instead she’d been struck by the Blakefield Curse.

She pushed away from the door and entered his bedroom. She found the shorts and the tee shirts. When she opened the underwear drawer she saw black and white boxers and briefs in cotton and silk. She held up a pair of briefs. What would he look like wearing the briefs the owner of the boutique had shown her? The dragon had been stunning. She shook her head. Dreaming about Steve wasn’t a good idea. She grabbed white cotton boxers and darted from his bedroom.

Lusting after what was available on his terms not hers made her an idiot. She wanted a courtship and love leading to a happy ending. Was there a way to this goal with the man who had captured her on the first meeting?

Meg carried the clothes to the bathroom and tapped on the door. “Your clothes.”

“Could you bring the grabber from my duffle? Looks like tongs with a long handle.”

She returned to his bedroom, emptied the clothes from the bag into the hamper. She found the grabber. What was he going to do with this implement?

“When she opened the bathroom door she heard the buzzing sound of an electric razor. Steve stood at the sink. With one hand he braced himself against the counter. The other held the shaver. Her mouth went dry as she stared at his magnificent nude shoulders and rear. What would those muscles and the all tanned skin feel if she practiced one of the massage techniques featured in her mag.

“Meg.”

Her name uttered by his deep voice drained air from her lungs in a long sigh. “Yes.”

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. “Push the wheelchair over here.”

Gripping the handles of the chair, step by step she moved forward until he could sit. “I have your clothes.”

“Could you remove the cast wrappings and give me the grabber and clothes?”

She dropped what she carried in his lap and crouched to unfasten the duct tape. In a mistaken move she looked up. His intense gaze made her falter. Her face heated. Her body thrummed with awareness. Temptation waved a finger bidding her to act. Could she turn away from all she desired? She ripped the tape. He yelled. She pulled the plastic bag and the wrap free. His shout startled her and she nearly fell. She caught her balance and backed to the door.

“I want you.”

His stark declaration held a note of urgency. She swallowed. A tidal wave of temptation threatened to wash her rules away. How could she respond without telling a lie? “I...will you be much longer?”

“Three minutes.”

She stepped forward and reached for the chair. “Don’t put your shirt on yet. I have some cream in my room to help heal the scrapes and bruises.”

She delivered him to his bedroom and dashed to the guest room. She leaned against the wall and gulped deep breaths. Every hour in his company brought her closer to a decision. Finally she took the jar from her case and went to his bedroom. He remained in the wheelchair.