With the horses gone from the barn, only a tortoiseshell cat and her newborn kittens remained to keep Cleo company as she arranged the hay bale and checked the light from different angles. She discovered the little family nestled inside a wooden box behind a hand cart. The saddle blanket tucked in the box looked deliberately placed there. Somebody had provided this kitten nursery, Cleo decided, and wondered if Tom was that much of a softie.
The scent of hay, oats and horses brought back bittersweet memories of her English-riding days. She’d loved the horses and had wanted one of her own. Her father had told her he’d buy her the horse of her dreams after she won her first blue ribbon. A man of his word, her father. She never got her horse.
Jeeter arrived right on time, interrupting her thoughts. Polished spurs jingling, he clomped into the barn wearing what she suspected was his Saturdaynight going-to-town outfit—new jeans, ostrich-skin boots, a wildly patterned western shirt, a leather vest and a black Stetson that looked fresh out of the box.
He touched the brim in greeting. “Ma’am.”
“Don’t you look fine, Jeeter.”
“I’m as nervous as a bull at cuttin’ time,” he admitted.
She figured out that he was referring to the practice of castrating cattle. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This photo session will have the opposite effect. You’ll be strutting around like Rooster Cogburn when it’s over. The guys tell me it’s very good for the ego.” She pulled a small notebook out of her camera bag. “Before we start, I need a little background on you.”
“Nothin’ much to tell.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” She ran through her routine questions about age, birthplace, work experience and hobbies. Then she casually tossed in one tailored for this project alone. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“How come you need to know that?”
Cleo had her answer ready. “I’d like to give her a complimentary copy of the calendar.”
Jeeter grinned. “I don’t know about that. A picture of me is okay, but I don’t think I want Julie gawking at all those other guys for the rest of the year.”
So he had a girlfriend. Cleo hadn’t really expected him to make the cut as husband material, but this detail settled it. She wouldn’t horn in on another woman’s territory. “Then maybe she’d like a framed copy of the picture I use in the calendar.”
“That would be great I could sign it, and everything.”
“You bet. Well, let’s get started.”
Jeeter smoothed his blond mustache and fiddled with a button on his vest “Is this what I should be wearing? I wasn’t sure.”
“You look terrific.” She gazed straight into his blue eyes as she spoke. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re the spitting image of Alan Jackson?”
“A time or two.” He stood a little taller, and the gleam in his eyes became a little brighter.
“Let’s start with you sitting on that bale of hay over there,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Perched self-consciously on the edge of the bale in his brand-new, totally buttoned-up clothes, he looked anything but sexy and relaxed.
In Cleo’s experience, most guys started a session this way. After all, they weren’t professional models, and they usually posed stiffly and stared straight at the camera as if they were having their picture taken at the driver’s-license bureau. Her job was to get them to loosen up. She might waste an entire roll of film doing that, but if she succeeded, the second roll would be pure gold.
“That’s nice,” she said, looking through the viewfinder. “Lean back against the stall a little. Good.” She clicked the shutter, knowing she wouldn’t use the shot. “Now unbutton your vest.”
Jeeter complied.
“You have a great build. Do you work out?” She snapped off a few more frames.
“Nope. Just regular cowboying.” He pulled in his stomach and rolled his shoulders back.
Cleo had discovered that praising a man’s body did wonders for the resulting photography. Fortunately, she didn’t have to fake that praise. She loved looking at a well-built man, both as an artist and as a woman. “It’s a shame to hide that physique. Let’s try a few shots with the vest off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice vibrated with sexual confidence now.
“And undo about four snaps on your shirt.” She waited until he’d finished and was looking at her. Then she slowly licked her lips. “Very nice,” she said, keeping her voice low and intimate. “Julie’s a lucky woman.”
“I’ll tell her you said so.”
“By all means.” Cleo edged a little closer. “Lean down on your elbow and prop your boot on the hay. Mmm. I like that. I like that very much.” Her implication, and men never failed to get it, was that she was enjoying the way the pose emphasized the bulge in their pants.
Jeeter’s bulge stirred, and his breath was coming faster. “How about the shirt?” he said, his voice husky. “Do you want that off?”
“Unsnap it all the way and pull it out of the waistband,” she murmured, clicking away. “We’ll see what that looks like. Oh, I like that As if you’ve just started to undress, just started the seduction. Cock your hips a little. What lovely muscles, Jeeter,” she crooned, moving and clicking as she found different angles. “Look at me. Ah, that’s perfect.”
She might get what she wanted in the first roll, after all, she thought. His pupils were already dilated with sexual excitement, and there was a fine sheen of moisture on his bare chest.
“You must drive your girlfriend wild,” she whispered. “You make her crazy with desire, don’t you, Jeeter? You don’t have to tell me. I know. Any woman who looks into your eyes would know.”
His lips parted as he stared at her, thoroughly aroused and mesmerized by the sound of her voice. The problem was, she’d aroused herself in the process. It couldn’t be helped, but it had to be controlled.
Yet she needed to feed this emotion building in him, because that was what women were looking for when they bought her calendars. “You’re a fantastic lover, aren’t you, Jeeter? You know how to please a woman so she can’t get enough of you and your magnificent body.”
He groaned softly.
“That’s it,” she said. “That’s what I want. Give me what I want.” She clicked the shutter rapidly, capturing the intensity before she ran out of film. Such a moment would never be sustained through reloading. She came to the end of the roll satisfied that she had her calendar shot Sometimes, on a good day, it happened that way.
Slowly she straightened and brought the camera down. “That was fantastic, Jeeter.”
“That’s all?” His voice was rough with unexpressed passion.
“That should do it. You were wonderful.” She turned to get the contract she’d tucked into her camera bag and saw Tom leaning in the doorway. In her current state, six feet of magnificent cowboy backlit by the sun was a powerful aphrodisiac. “Well, hello there.”
“Hello, yourself.” He didn’t change position, just kept looking at her.
She thought it was encouraging that he’d been curious enough to come to the barn while she was shooting. She had to walk toward him to reach her camera bag. “How much of the session did you see?”
“Enough.”
“Hey, boss,” Jeeter said. “This is a real painless way to earn some cash.”
“I imagine it is, Jeeter.”
Cleo couldn’t read his mood from his expression or the tone of voice, both of which seemed guarded. “Has the...uh...breeding started?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.” She swallowed. “I’d like to see how that’s done.”
“All right.”
She leaned down and tucked her camera in the bag before pulling the contract out of a side pocket. “We’re just about finished here.”
“Take your time. They won’t start anything until I get there.”
“Okay.” She turned and walked over to Jeeter, who was putting on his vest. “Here’s the contract. I encourage you to take
it home for the night and read everything. If you want a lawyer to see it, that’s fine.”
Jeeter straightened his vest and took the contract. “Or I could just sign it now and get it over with.”
Tom spoke up. “Don’t sign a contract until you’ve read it, Jeeter. You need to know what you’ve agreed to.”
“I could read it back to front and not know what I’d agreed to, boss. That legal mumbo jumbo confuses the heck out of me.”
Tom walked over to him. “Want me to take a look at it for you?”
“I’d be much obliged.” He handed him the contract. “Say, boss, do you need me around here for anything in particular for the next couple of hours?”
“Any trail rides going out this afternoon?”
“Nope.”
“Then I guess I don’t have anything in particular for you to do. But I can always find—”
“I’d appreciate a couple of hours off.” Jeeter tried to look nonchalant and failed. “Thought I’d ride over and see Julie.”
Tom glanced at Cleo and back at Jeeter. “Yeah, go ahead, Ace.”
“Thanks, boss.” Jeeter turned to Cleo. “I’ll get to see those pictures, right?”
“Of course. But I get the choice of which one to use.”
“Don’t forget about the one for Julie. And my mom might want one, too.”
“We can talk about that.” Cleo was careful about letting too many prints circulate. She wanted the pictures of her calendar boys to be unique. But sometimes she made exceptions for girlfriends and mothers.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jeeter touched the brim of his hat. “It’s been a pleasure.” Then he left the barn with a decided swagger in his walk.
Cleo chuckled once he was out of earshot. “I think Julie just got lucky.”
“And what if there had been no Julie?” Tom asked quietly.
Cleo glanced up into gray eyes that smoldered in a way that made her already keyed-up system kick into high gear. “That would be Jeeter’s problem,” she said. “I’m sure he would have found a way to take care of it.”
“With you?”
She almost slapped him before she realized he didn’t know about her code of ethics. After what he’d just seen, he couldn’t be blamed for thinking she’d follow through on the seduction she’d begun if a man was single and available. “I have a rule. I don’t sleep with my subjects.”
He stepped closer. “Never?”
“Never.” God, how she wanted him. Here. Now. On the floor of this barn, against that bale of hay. Anywhere. But that would ruin her cover plans, not to mention her husband hunt
His voice rumbled low. “You get them all worked up and then leave them that way?”
She shrugged, trying to act as if her pulse wasn’t beating a mile a minute just having him stand so dose, teasing her with the scent of leather and sun and potent male. “It’s no different for actors. They get all hot and bothered when they play love scenes, but they don’t necessarily follow through with that behavior.”
“Some do.”
“Well, I don’t. It’s a reputation I’m proud of, and I intend to keep things that way.”
“And what about you?”
She trembled at his caressing tone. “What about me?”
“How do you take care of all that tension boiling in that ripe body of yours?”
She swallowed. “What makes you think I’m affected at all?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” His glance flicked over her.
“Maybe it’s the scent of sex in the air. Maybe it’s that look in your eyes that says you want a man’s hands on you.”
“Your enormous ego is working overtime.”
“Is it?” He reached up and stroked a finger across her lower lip.
She gasped and stepped back.
“I didn’t think so,” he said.
“You surprised me.”
“Then let’s see how you react when you’re not surprised.” Tossing his hat and Jeeter’s contract on the bale of hay, he closed the short distance between them and cupped her face in both hands.
She tried to draw away, but his touch was like rain falling on a parched field. She drank it in and wanted more, even though she knew it was a mistake. “No,” she whispered as his head lowered.
“It’s okay. I’m not one of your subjects.”
“But I want you...to be.”
“No way, baby.” The touch of his lips was gentle, exploratory, tender.
Without warning, Cleo’s restraint cracked wide open and she became the aggressor, clutching his head and deepening the kiss. He caught fire instantly, shifting the angle of his head for greater access and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
The taste of him drove her wild. She matched him breath for ragged breath, sucking, licking, devouring what she needed, what they both needed. He pulled her dose and she moaned at the full body contact. The man knew how to use his hands, and moisture rushed between her thighs as the ache to have him became almost unbearable.
Before she realized it, he’d backed her up against a rough wood wall and wrenched down the zipper of her jeans. His mouth was at her throat, his fingers unfastening her belt Dimly, she realized he meant to take her, here in the barn.
“No!” The hoarse protest barely made it past her lips. “I don’t want this.” Her words were choked.
He paused and lifted his head to gaze into her eyes.
He was panting. “The hell you don’t.”
“I don’t” Summoning every reserve she had, she pushed him away.
He stared at her, chest heaving, the fly of his jeans stretched to the max. “You’re a lousy liar, Cleo.”
“I’m not lying. Once something like this happens between us, I can’t use you for the cover of my calendar.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t use me anyway. Get over it and let us both have some relief.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not giving up. You’ll pose for me before I leave.”
“So you can treat me the way you just treated poor Jeeter?”
“It’s business, Tom! Everyone benefits. It’s the way I work.”
“Well, you’re not working that way with me.” He turned away and propped his hands on his hips while he took several deep breaths. “Fasten your clothes. I have something you need to see.”
She zipped her jeans and noticed he’d undone a couple of buttons on her blouse, too. She’d been so carried away she hadn’t even known what he was doing. Her whole body ached and dripped with need, but she couldn’t allow base instinct to rule her. Not if, by denying herself, she had a chance at a photo that would be the crown jewel in her career.
While she was straightening her clothes, he walked over and picked up his hat. He dusted it off and replaced it firmly on his head before picking up Jeeter’s contract He started flipping through it, paused and gave a low whistle.
“What?” she asked.
“I guess you do pay well.”
“Of course.” She wondered if money would make a difference to him. She had no idea of his financial situation, but unless he was independently wealthy, the money might come in handy. “And the amount is negotiable in your case, considering we’re talking about a cover shot.”
He glanced up from the contract. “I’m not doing it, Cleo.” His smile beckoned to her. “And the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can get down to some good old-fashioned sex.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I think we just demonstrated how very interested you are.”
“I mean mentally.”
He laughed. “Making love isn’t brain work. It’s body work. Park your brain and have some fun with me, lady.”
“No can do.” She swung her camera bag to her shoulder. “A relationship with you would louse up...several things.” She wasn’t about to tell him that she was looking for a husband on this trip and didn’t plan to settle for a brief affair. “Shall we go?”
“Absolutely. It’s time for a little sex education,” He folded
the contract and tucked it in his hip pocket.
His comment, combined with the way the folded contract drew her gaze to his tight buns, had a predictable effect. Her nipples tightened and a warming trend began once again in her pelvic region. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” she said as they started out of the barn. “I need to check and see if I have an overnight delivery from Bernie, anyway, and—”
“You don’t. I would have found that out at lunch, because an overnight delivery out here in the country is a big deal. Nobody mentioned it.”
“Oh. Well, speaking of lunch, I missed it because of the photo shoot, and I’m hungry.”
He slanted a sideways glance at her as they walked side by side. “I’d say so. In fact, I’d say you were plum starved.”
A flush warmed her cheeks. “Right after a photo shoot is a very vulnerable time for me. When you showed up, I just...reacted.”
“Yes, ma’am, you sure did.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“If you say so.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the kitchen and find myself something to eat.”
“Nope.” Tom took her firmly by the arm and guided her toward the corral.
“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away from him, but his fingers remained clamped over her biceps like a manacle. “Tom, I said I’ve changed my mind about watching this little show. Let me go. I don’t want to cause a scene.”
“Neither do I. But after watching you with Jeeter, I think it’s important for you to see what’s about to happen in the corral. It should give you a better idea of why I won’t pose for your calendar.”
“My calendar? What on God’s green earth would a couple of horses making whoopee have to do with my calendar?”
His smile was grim. “More than you think.”
“Obviously,” she muttered, but decided to go along, after all. If watching this spectacle would give her more insight into what made Tom tick, so much the better. “All right, I’ll go with you.”
“Good.” He seemed to have forgotten that he still had a firm hold on her arm as they headed for the corraL
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