by Kim Baldwin
Chapter Twelve
Kash dreamed of Isabel and awakened early, in somewhat the same state as when she went to sleep—with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and a brain fuzzy from vodka. She had a remedy for both. Two aspirin, a long, hot shower, and a pot of coffee would help her head. To work off her sexual frustration, she needed the hotel’s exercise room. A call to the concierge ensured the necessary equipment would be there for her.
Punching a heavy bag had been a regular part of her routine for more than a dozen years, a perfect way to remain toned and strong, and also often successful in dispelling anger, frustration, or other negative emotions. She was pleased to find the room unoccupied and a new pair of gloves in her size waiting for her.
The effort to reconstruct what had happened the night before was driving her crazy. Oh, she remembered the club. Every detail of that part of the evening was ingrained in her memory. Isabel dancing in that amazingly revealing black dress, making her remember what it had felt like to touch her. Thinking about that too long, too much, had forced her here. Wham. She leveled a series of blows to the bag, exhaling with a grunt with each one.
However, she only vaguely recollected what had happened later, in her suite, and wasn’t even entirely certain Isabel had been there. Her hazy memory of Isabel leaning over her as she lay in bed differed little from the dream that had roused her, in which their positions had been reversed and she had been on top of Isabel, fucking her, about to come.
Since she’d awakened with her clothes on, she thought it fairly safe to assume the fucking part was pure fantasy. But in her wasted state she couldn’t have placed her shoes so neatly by the bed, so she suspected Isabel had come by sometime during the night. Wham. She damn sure wished she could recall anything whatsoever about that part. Wham.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here this morning.”
Isabel’s voice startled Kash so much she lost concentration as she was unleashing an uppercut, and the hesitation in her follow-through pulled her off balance. She grabbed for the bag and barely managed to keep from falling.
Behind her, Isabel snickered.
Scrambling to regain her cool, she straightened and turned to respond. But her words caught in her throat. Oh. Oh, my. Isabel wore brief jogging shorts and a matching cropped running top, which showed off her toned swimmer’s body and emphasized her breasts to perfection. And Isabel’s mischievous smile made Kash wish all the more she could remember what had transpired in her suite.
“I shouldn’t give you a hard time.” Isabel was clearly fighting the urge to laugh, not very successfully. “You’re probably feeling poorly this morning. But after all, you did it to yourself.”
Kash was breathing heavily from her exertions. So you were there. “I guess I should thank you that I woke up in a bed this morning and not on the balcony or floor.”
“You’re welcome.” Isabel got on a treadmill and started it, setting off at a fast walk to warm up. She was ten feet or so from Kash, with a great view of her as she worked the bag. I could stay on this thing all day with you to look at.
Kash wore a tight black tank top, gray shorts, and a half-lidded, brooding expression, and the raw power in her stance was incredibly sexy. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, and taut thighs glistened with sweat, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she regained her breath made her appear highly aroused.
Isabel was captivated. “I’m glad to see you doing something positive to take care of yourself. I was beginning to think all you did was drink a lot and stay out late.”
“Tone down the perky, huh?” Kash grumped good-naturedly. Although she resumed her work on the bag, she had lost the fervor she’d exhibited when she thought she was alone.
“Spoilsport. You’re no fun.” Isabel increased her pace to an easy jog and fought to keep from staring at Kash. It wasn’t easy, because watching the muscles of her shoulders and arms flex and bunch as she hit the bag exhilarated her. Kash met her eyes frequently, but almost always immediately looked away.
Do you still want to kiss me, Kash? And dance with me? And more? Did you leave the club because I was dancing with someone else, like I had to when I saw you with Gillian? Kash’s drunken confession and the way she had pressed their bodies together during the shoot after her makeover encouraged her. Oh, yes. Something was definitely simmering between them, and they still had almost two weeks left. Anything could happen.
The roar of a sudden downpour drew their eyes to the large windows that faced the private garden.
Kash paused in her workout and went to study the sky. She’d been trying to come up with a way to put some distance between her and Isabel so she could get her overheated libido under control, and nature had provided her an answer. “Guess we’ll have to postpone our shoot until tomorrow. It probably won’t let up anytime soon, and every setup I want to do here is outdoors.”
Isabel frowned. “That’s all right. I can do Vatican City. Most of that is indoors.”
“Good.” Kash peeled off her gloves. Her heart was still thundering, but it was her proximity to a scantily clad Isabel rather than her work with the bag that caused it. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” As she wiped at her face and neck with a towel and prepared to leave, she glanced over at Isabel.
The look of disappointment on Isabel’s face was unmistakable, though she did try to mask it with a faint smile.
Guilt made Kash’s chest ache. It’s for the best. Just get out of here, and get your mind off her any way you can.
“Okay, see you then.” Isabel slowed from a jog to a walk. “Have a pleasant day, Kash.”
“You, too.” All the way back to her suite, Kash tried to tell herself she’d forget about Isabel as soon as the trip was over. But her arguments didn’t ring true.
Kash worried that nothing could dull this desire for Isabel, because it only seemed to get stronger. With Isabel, she wanted to memorize every detail of every encounter. Somewhere along the line, her voice had become music and her smile a tonic. And the memory of their brief encounter haunted her. Now, when they were in the same room together, she couldn’t focus on anything else.
A couple more weeks, that’s all. You’ll get through it, you’ll say good-bye, and things will be normal again. She’ll go back to her life and you’ll return to yours, none the worse for wear.
Even as she said these clichés to herself, she could sense the lie. Oh, they might never see each other again, but it would be a very long time before her mind let go of Isabel Sterling. And when she got back home she’d have to reevaluate whatever had been “normal” for her before this trip. Her carefree, no-strings lifestyle wasn’t cutting it anymore.
Not that it had ever really made her truly happy, but at least for a time it had become a usually pleasant routine, and she’d had no motivation to wish for anything else. Now it was increasingly unsatisfying, and Isabel only added to her discontent with the status quo. She longed for something more; she just didn’t know what.
*
By the time Isabel showered and changed, Gillian still hadn’t returned to their suite, so she left her a lengthy note with her plans for the day and set off for the Holy See.
She had long dreamed of seeing the Sistine Chapel, Saint Peter’s, and the treasures and art in the massive Vatican Museum complex. But all she could do was think about Kash and regret they weren’t spending the day together. Jesus, I am totally taken with her. How did I let this happen?
Kash obviously didn’t feel the same about her, despite how she’d acted right before she’d passed out. She had quickly accepted the opportunity to postpone their shoot to do her own thing. I wonder what she’s up to today? Catching up with friends? She knows everyone who’s anyone. Probably has all sorts of company to choose from, much more exciting than mine.
One thing was pretty clear. Gillian had spent the night elsewhere. Isabel had hoped to hook up with her for dinner, but a note was waiting for her instead:
Hey, Izzy!
So Isabel ate alone at a quaint café around the corner from their hotel. The waiter gave her the best table by the window and flirted with her incessantly, but it was not his company she craved. Such a damn shame to be in these amazingly romantic places all by myself. How wonderful it would be to spend this trip with someone I’m falling in love with.
She imagined Kash there, holding her hand across this candlelit table. But that was foolishness talking. She doesn’t do getting-to-know-you, and she’s not one for relationships. She told me that in no uncertain terms. But unrealistic or not, she wanted much more than another sexual encounter with Kash. It might have started as an incredible physical attraction, but she was developing real feelings for her. Better to at least keep my fantasies within the realm of possibility, Isa. The most I can hope for with her is sex, and even that’s certainly not a given.
She returned to her suite and went to bed early. Amazing how I hated the thought of these photo shoots when we started out, and now I can’t wait for them because it’s my chance to spend some time with her.
*
Massimo had two strangers with him when Isabel found them waiting in front of the hotel the next morning. And instead of the little Fiat, he drove a small van, the back loaded with large black cases of lighting and photography equipment. Massimo introduced the behemoth of a man sitting next to him as Ecco, a fellow photography student, and the glamorous twentysomething woman in the back as Francesca, Isabel’s hair and makeup stylist.
Well, there’s definitely going to be more than the two of us today. Pity. They would be outdoors and not alone in a studio again, but Isabel had hoped she’d get the chance to talk to Kash without a lot of other people listening.
Kash joined them a few minutes later, slipping into the seat beside her without meeting her eyes. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Hi, Kash.” Isabel’s spirits lifted from merely being next to her, but Kash remained coolly professional, avoiding sustained eye contact as she explained the plan for the day.
“We’re going to stop at a couple of the design salons to pick out a few things from your new wardrobe. The rest of the clothes will be sent to your suite. As you’ve probably already gathered, today’s shoots will be more elaborate than what we’ve done so far. The ‘before-makeover’ photos will get used as inserts with the article on you. The shots from here on will be the featured stuff—at least a couple of them will probably go full page. So we’ll use different makeup and clothes for each location.”
For the first shoot, at the Roman Forum, Kash put her in a sheer, gauzy white dress and sandals, an outfit as timeless as the backdrop. Her pale makeup and structured hairstyle helped her resemble a Michelangelo sculpture.
“So you can see the premise,” Kash explained as she positioned Isabel in front of an ancient column. “Statue in the garden. I’d like something evocative of that image. Think serene. Tranquil.”
Since Isabel had recently studied statues at the Louvre and in the Vatican, she had a variety of material to draw upon, and she did her best to please Kash, recreating every pose she could recall. And she must have been doing all right, because Kash was taking lots of pictures without giving her much additional direction.
Most of all, she was hoping to break through that businesslike attitude and get a smile or a laugh. Something, anything, to acknowledge what they had shared, that Kash was also finding it impossible not to think about their bodies rocking together.
But nothing seemed to crack Kash’s polite aloofness. Isabel was frustrated. It must have been the alcohol talking when she said she wanted to kiss me.
After the Forum, they moved to Trevi Fountain. Massimo and Ecco set up the equipment while the women adjourned to the ladies’ lounge of a nearby café so Isabel could change. From the large garment bag of clothes, Kash selected a chic blue silk suit and a blouse with a scoop neckline.
“We’re going for sophisticated urban professional in this one.” Kash handed the suit and matching shoes to Isabel. To Francesca, she said, “Daytime makeup, nothing too edgy.”
“Sì. I understand.”
“I’ll try to be quick,” Isabel said as she removed the clothes from their hangers.
“See you out there, then, whenever you’re ready.” Kash left without waiting for anything further from Isabel. Having to stare at her all day was torture enough. But being this near her, smelling her perfume and, God forbid, watching her change clothes…the thought was intolerable.
Kash had spent the entire previous day trying to take her mind off Isabel. She wandered the streets of Rome, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sunglasses, and a ball cap, to minimize being recognized. She carried a small gear bag and her camera, and for the first time in a long while, she took pictures only for herself.
For the most part, they were pictures of people, captured in their environment in a way that told the story of who they were, often in black and white. The baker taking fresh loaves of filoncino from the oven, the doe-eyed girl on the balcony with her cat, the wizened old man entertaining tourists with an accordion as ancient as he was. The day was relaxing and one of her better ones creatively in weeks. But nothing could push Isabel far from her thoughts.
It was damn disturbing, how she had memorized so much about Isabel—from which moods raised that dimple in her cheek, to the way she could appear shy and provocative at the same time, to the nice definition of musculature in her calves when she danced.
She already noticed too much detail about Isabel, far too much. And today, protected by her camera, she couldn’t escape the opportunity—no, the responsibility—to capture the essence of Isabel’s beauty, admiring her with her lens, showing off her sweet side, her sexy side, her sparkly, effervescent side.
Being close to Isabel this way was killing her. In a good way, but it was killing her. And not showing it was the worst. Her words rang in her head. I want whatever I can have with you. One more night. One more hour.
The possibilities played through her imagination like a slide show of nude photographs. The two of them, doing all sorts of things to each other. One hour wouldn’t be nearly enough. I’m not at all sure one night would be, either, to get you out of my system.
The object of her musings reappeared wearing the new blue suit, which gave her a more powerful and confident air than anything Kash had seen her in before, while she maintained an aura of sensuality. The color emphasized her eyes, and Kash was drawn there, endless depths to drown in.
Oh, fuck. Get a grip. You have a job to do. She steeled herself and tried to act entirely professional. “Perfect. Hold out your hand.”
Isabel’s face registered pleased curiosity as she complied.
Kash gave her a few coins. “Of course we have to do the traditional throwing a coin in the fountain. Probably a few times to get a good shot. Then we’ll do some other poses.” She started to turn away, toward her tripod. Nothing said she had to go into the whole tradition thing, make any explanations. It wasn’t necessary and would eat up valuable time. But she did it anyway, because Isabel was the type of woman to like such sentimental things. “Do you know the tradition?”
“Hmm. Well, I know you’re supposed to get something great, but exactly what, I’m not sure,” Isabel said cheerily. “Good luck? Oh no, wait—I know. A wish granted, I hope?”
Kash knew from Isabel’s smoldering expression that any wishes being made here today would involve the two of them getting naked together. Get your mind back on the job at hand. Do not let her see how she is affecting you. “Not exactly. You get a guaranteed return to Rome.” Kash forced herself to respond casually, then walked back to her tripod and lined up her first shot. “You have to stand with your back to the fountain and toss the coin over your shoulder.”
“Oh, right,” Isabel said. “I did read that
in the guidebook. Shame you can’t get your wishes granted around here.” Kash is ignoring every single flirtation and innuendo. She’s not the least bit interested in more with me. But still I keep trying.
Logically, she shouldn’t let herself get so worked up over Kash, read so much into one quick sexual encounter and a few drunken sentences. The way I was posing, I was throwing myself at her, for God’s sake. But apparently she’s not going to bend from her vow not to let anything further happen between us.
She couldn’t help herself. No matter how silly it seemed, she was hurt that Kash wasn’t acknowledging the chemistry between them, or what had happened in Kash’s suite. Not only that, but she’s actually being kind of…cold. And there’s no need for that. She smiled ruefully. Cold, hard Kash. I wonder how many women you’ve heard that from?
None of Kash’s actions deterred her fascination, however. Why do I still want you like crazy, even though you’re beginning to frustrate and irritate the hell out of me?
“Can we please pay attention, Isabel, and move? You’re not giving me anything to work with here.”
Case in point, Isabel thought. You could be a little nicer. Okay, so her mind had wandered a bit, but only for a moment. She didn’t deserve that. Is Kash hungover again from another night out? She didn’t seem to be, but something was definitely going on. Her body language was stiff and guarded, and her demeanor icily remote.
“Sorry. Perhaps if you were more precise in telling me what you’d like me to do?” Isabel had tried to be cheerful and cooperative, but there were limits even to her good nature, so she let her answering tone convey her annoyance. “I’m not some urban businesswoman, you know, so I have no idea what you want.”
Kash stepped out from behind the camera and frowned. She had immediately regretted her reprimand, even more so when she saw that it had spoiled Isabel’s up-to-now buoyant mood. Brilliant. Can’t you deal with not screwing her again without becoming a total asshole?