by Mari Carr
Now Chloe was beginning to understand why he was so talented. It appeared he had at least a dozen extra hands, all of them managing to touch her constantly, and while his supposedly glancing blows hadn’t crossed the line to inappropriateness yet, he was getting damn close.
Chloe reached up to adjust the lighting once more. Even though she’d told Javier to stand still so she could get it right, the man was behind her in an instant. He placed one hand on her hip as the other met hers on the light. His bare chest pressed against her back and she stifled the urge to curse. Their close proximity drew her attention to his erect cock.
Great. This wasn’t going to end well.
Javier had elected to wear just an apron, and while she knew he had boxers on beneath it, they wouldn’t appear in the picture. It was the most risqué portrait she’d done thus far and she was a little bit worried about her mother’s response when she saw it. Of course, none of that would matter if Mr. Hands didn’t stand still long enough for her to snap his picture.
“Javier,” she said, her temper beginning to pique despite her attempt to remain calm. She’d been trying to set things up for nearly forty-five minutes, but Javier kept changing his mind about his pose. It was mid-morning and she wondered how long he could continue to stall before he’d have to give in and let her take the damn picture. The restaurant was opening in a few hours.
During their initial meeting, he’d sat too close to her on her couch as they’d discussed their ideas for the calendar. He had asked her out, but she’d refused. Then he’d played the French card, kissing her on both cheeks as he left. That wouldn’t have bothered her if he hadn’t lingered on the second kiss and placed it a bit to close to her earlobe, adding a bit of hot breath to the touch.
The guy squicked her out. Majorly. He’d called a few times since then, but she’d sent him straight to voicemail.
“I don’t want you to burn yourself,” he murmured, his lips too close to her ear for comfort.
She tried to take a step away, but he tightened his grip on her hip.
“I really need you to stand over there so I can make sure the direction is correct.”
“You are a very beautiful woman, Chloe.”
She sighed and wondered how much it would piss her mother off if she brought her heel down on Javier’s foot and crushed all of his toes. Given his behavior, she suspected her mother would encourage it. However, she recalled the fundraiser committee’s glee when the famous chef had agreed to participate. They’d been thrilled, claiming his presence alone would sell tons of calendars.
“Thank you,” she replied through gritted teeth. “I think the lighting is fine now. You can take your place.” She didn’t give a shit if his whole face was in shadow. She was snapping a few shots and getting the hell out of here.
Javier didn’t appear anxious to move away, but mercifully, his sous chef arrived, an Amazonian woman named Elise whom Chloe had liked the moment they’d met. Javier released her and moved back to his place by the chopping board.
“What do you want?” he barked at his assistant, clearly annoyed by the interruption.
The woman must have been accustomed to his rude manner. “If we’re going to serve the tarte au pistou tonight, I need to begin preparing the ingredients before the rest of the staff arrives.”
“We’re not finished yet. You’ll have to wait. Go away.”
Elise seemed unfazed by her boss’s anger. She walked over to Chloe. “How much longer will you be?” While her question was innocuous, the concerned look on Elise’s face proved the woman was really wondering if she was okay.
Chloe tried to decide if there was any way she could finish her job without making a scene. Perhaps Elise could help. She handed the woman her phone and spoke quietly, hoping Javier couldn’t overhear. “Do you mind clicking on my contacts, calling Blake Mills and telling him that I’m running late for our meeting. Tell him it would save time if he could meet me here.”
“Of course.” Elise gave her a subtle wink—all too aware that Chloe was calling in the cavalry—and took the phone out into the main restaurant.
Blake was at work and they didn’t have any meeting scheduled. Hopefully he’d catch the drift that Chloe needed help and he’d come over. She wasn’t all that worried about Javier trying something. Chloe was more than capable of fending off an overzealous womanizer. The problem was Javier wasn’t responding to her verbal warnings. All she had left was her right hook. If she pulled that out, he’d withdraw his agreement to participate.
Chloe sucked at peaceful resolutions. She’d grown up in a houseful of boys. All disputes were handled quickly and efficiently…physically. While her brothers had never lifted a hand to hurt her when they were all kids, that hadn’t kept them from wrestling or tickling her into submission in order to get a toy or the last dessert.
Javier started to walk back toward her, but Chloe threw her hand up to halt him. “No, don’t move. The lighting is perfect and I don’t want to lose my shot.”
The spotlight was nowhere near right, but it was close enough. Javier seemed to struggle for a reason to approach her. Failing that, he returned to his original place. She adjusted the camera lens, tweaking the focus and the aperture. She also awaited the inevitable. They’d gotten this far in the process three times before and each time, Javier had declared the pose wrong for some asinine reason or another. The only thing giving her hope was that the man was beginning to run out of places in the kitchen to stand.
Sure enough, just as she bent to click a shot, Javier threw up his hands. “This feels too awkward. I would never stand like this while cooking.”
Chloe took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking. “You aren’t cooking. You’re posing for a calendar. The idea of this shot isn’t to show you working, but to capture you in your workplace. You’re the one who chose to take the picture in the kitchen. Trust me. This pose is the best. Now hold still.”
She plastered a fake smile on her face and decided if the asshole wanted to continue to bitch, he’d have to do so while she snapped away. She started clicking despite Javier’s refusal to pose properly. If the bastard thought he was going to blow this shoot and drag her back here again for another attempt, he was sorely mistaken. She’d give money out of her own pocket to send in another photographer. She knew a couple of large, no-nonsense male colleagues who would be only too happy to do her a favor.
Chloe pretended Javier was doing a great job, even though she could see from his tight expression he was trying to come up with a way to stall. “Those are great. Now, what if you pick up one of the kitchen utensils? Grab that silver bowl. Maybe you’d feel better using props.”
Javier hesitated, but Chloe kept snapping. Maybe the gods would take mercy on her and one of the shots would actually look good.
“Perhaps you could show me what you mean.”
It was a deliberate attempt to draw her closer. Chloe wasn’t biting. “You’re the cooking expert. I’m just the photographer. I’m going to switch lenses. Just find a way that feels comfortable and natural.” Chloe bent to grab the lens, intent on making the change as quickly as possible.
When she looked at him once more, Javier was grinning, his pose perfect. Hallelujah. The guy must have caught her hint. She focused and started to snap.
She’d only taken a few pictures when Javier turned around, pretending to reach for a pan hanging from a rack behind him. Chloe took two more pictures before her finger caught up with her brain.
“Where the hell are your boxers?”
Javier glanced over his shoulder, his slimy smile wide. “You said comfortable and natural.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Chloe’s head was beginning to pound, her patience officially gone.
“It would be easier if you came over here and posed me the way you wanted.”
Chloe opened her mouth to inform the idiot the only way this would be easier was if he had a fucking brain, but at that moment, she was saved.
“Hey
, Chloe. Whoa,” Blake said, stopping mid-step. “Thought this calendar was PG.”
Elise hovered just behind Blake. She giggled when she caught sight of her boss’s bare ass.
“This is a closed photo shoot,” Javier said furiously as he turned back around, the apron mercifully covering something Chloe really didn’t want to see.
“I’m going to go adjust the menu. There’s no way we’re going to get the tarts made today.” Before she left, Elise glanced at Blake, then gave Chloe an impressed look that said she approved of the cavalry.
Blake walked over to Chloe and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to stick around. I’m Chloe’s assistant.”
Javier’s face went red with frustration and fury. “I’m not comfortable working with another man in the room.”
“I can see why,” Blake murmured.
Chloe wavered between laughing hysterically and crying her eyes out. She’d been running a hundred miles an hour since recovering from the flu. Now she was starting to think a relapse of the illness would be a welcome respite.
“Have your assistant wait outside.” Javier drew out the word assistant to prove he wasn’t buying Blake’s lie.
Blake tucked a stray hair behind her ear before cupping her cheeks in his hands. The action was one of pure possessiveness. He didn’t speak as he studied her face. She wasn’t sure what he saw there. Probably because there were too many things to see. Chloe was tired, frustrated and, if she was being completely honest, somewhat amused by Javier’s ridiculous antics now that Blake was here and she felt safe.
Mercifully, Blake didn’t pick a fight with Javier. Instead, he made it clear that Chloe was spoken for.
Even though technically, she wasn’t.
“Take your pictures, Chloe. I’ll be right outside. How much longer do you need?”
Chloe glanced at Javier and saw the man’s narrowed eyes. The chef didn’t like discovering she wasn’t available.
Even though technically, she was.
“Five minutes.” It would be a miracle if she got a useable shot in that amount of time, but she didn’t trust herself alone with the asshat chef for one second longer than that.
“There’s no way we can finish in five—”
Blake cut off Javier’s complaint. “I’ll be back here in five minutes to help you pack up your stuff.”
“But—” Javier blustered.
Blake tugged his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll make a few calls while I wait.”
“Thanks, Blake.”
Blake walked out of the kitchen, but from the clomping of his boots, she could tell he hadn’t taken two steps into the other room before he stopped.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Javier asked. “I thought you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”
Foolishly, she had made that comment at their first meeting. She could only assume that was what had triggered open season on Chloe for the guy.
She glanced over her shoulder, certain Blake had remained within listening distance. She’d love to lie and say he was her boyfriend, simply to get the octopus off her back. But, knowing Blake, he’d find some way to make her repay him for that deceit. Probably with sex.
And with that thought, her libido reared its ugly head, assuring her it was a price it was more than willing to pay. It figured the one man who turned her into a raving sex maniac was also the one who’d broken her heart…and her trust.
Chloe simply nodded in response to Javier’s question. Maybe that would cool his engines and Blake would be none-the-wiser about her pretending he was her boyfriend.
“Yes what? Yes, you’re seeing him or yes, you aren’t seeing anyone?”
“Javier, I don’t see why my personal life has any bearing on this photo shoot. I’m here to take your picture for this calendar and that’s it. Now, if you would just put your boxers back on and pick up that whisk, I could—”
Javier was across the room in three long strides. He grasped her shoulders tightly, tugging her against his chest. When he spoke, his voice was quiet enough that Chloe knew he understood how close Blake was as well. “You must know how much I want you, Chloe.”
“Let go of me, Javier. I’m really, really not interested.”
The chef paused and Chloe got the sense he was confused.
“Hasn’t anyone ever said no to you before?” she asked.
He chuckled, the sound husky and deep. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”
His answer—so completely cocky—made her laugh. Javier released her, joining in her mirth.
She placed her hands in her front pockets. “Wow. You really are something.”
“And yet, you’re not interested?”
She shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Not nearly as much as I am. Your boyfriend is a very lucky man.”
For the first time, Chloe could see why other women would be attracted to the chef. After all, he was rich and famous, and attractive in a tall, boyishly handsome way. He rubbed elbows with Hollywood elite as well as international royalty. And he could cook.
However, none of that was even remotely appealing to her. Her ideal man had dark hair and crystal-blue eyes with a muscular body that wouldn’t stop. He had a charming smile, wicked wit and a tattoo on his upper left arm.
She made herself stop listing attributes. She was describing Blake. Dammit.
“Our time appears to be running out. Shall we try to get in a good shot before your assistant returns?”
Chloe nodded, relieved when Javier tugged his boxers on—though he kept his back turned toward her—making a show of it. Then he turned on the charm for the camera, posing as if he’d walked straight off the pages of GQ. Of all her models thus far, Javier was the most natural, knowing how to highlight his gorgeous features to perfection.
Chloe had only snapped about two dozen shots when Blake returned, but she wasn’t worried. She could probably fill the entire calendar with just the last few pictures of Javier and the thing would sell.
Blake didn’t speak immediately. Chloe wondered if he could sense the tide had turned. She flipped through the images on her viewfinder and, satisfied with the results, she looked at Javier and smiled. “All set.”
Javier reached for his pants and shirt as Blake helped her pack up all of her equipment. Given the end result, she felt guilty for calling him. Though she suspected Javier wouldn’t have backed off if he hadn’t seen Blake in the flesh. And really, if the chef had touched her one more time, there was no force on earth that would have kept her from cold-cocking the guy. Then Blake would have been called in anyway…to arrest her for assault.
“Sorry for bothering you when you were on duty.”
Blake folded the legs on her tripod. “No problem. I actually wasn’t far from here, working on a case. I’d just finished interviewing a witness and was heading back to the precinct to type up the report. Your timing was perfect.”
Blake had told her a little bit about the details of his job. She wondered how he could stand to spend so much of his day dealing with anger and sadness and pain. He investigated cases involving domestic violence, child abuse and rape.
Javier walked over to say goodbye when they finished packing up. He gave Chloe two platonic kisses on the cheek, then—to her dismay—told Blake he was a very lucky man. Blake didn’t bother to correct him. Instead, he gave her a wink that told her she was in his debt.
That didn’t bug her as much as she might have expected.
Chloe retrieved her cell phone from Elise, thanked her for her help and she and Blake stepped out into the bright sunshine together.
“What’s next on your list for today?” Blake asked as he placed her bags in the trunk of her car.
“I’m taking pictures of Caliph. At the tattoo parlor.”
Blake chuckled. “Sounds like your mom wore him down.”
“I think it was actually a tag-team effort. Jennifer was fairly convincing too.”
“Guess I don’t have to worry about your
safety with your brother around. That’s a shame. I was enjoying being your bodyguard.”
“I shouldn’t have called you, but I was dangerously close to pulverizing that guy, which would have pissed my mother off. I thought maybe if you showed up and I pretended that you were…” She wasn’t sure why it was hard for her to say “boyfriend” to him, but for some reason, it felt wrong.
“Your boyfriend,” he finished for her.
She nodded. “I thought that would make him back off and it worked. So I owe you one.”
Blake reached for her. Chloe didn’t bother stepping away. Not when she wanted him to hold her. She was beginning to crave his kisses more than chocolate and that was saying something. “I think I like having you in my debt.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t call this a debt. Just one friend owing another a favor. A very small favor.”
Blake placed his lips against her cheek, the touch more caress than kiss. His breath was warm against her skin, sexy and sweet, all at the same time. “When can I collect my favor?”
Her eyes had drifted closed, but now she opened them, her gaze taking in the busy street behind them.
What was she doing? Blake Mills had stolen from her family, broken her heart, left without a trace for years and now she was letting him walk right back into her life without so much as a hi or bye. She was letting her body make the decisions—choosing sex over common sense.
She took a step away. Blake looked as if he’d try to pull her back, so she added another step, more distance. “I can’t do this again.”
“Do what?”
She pointed to herself, then him. “This. Us. I’ve been down this road before and it didn’t end well.”
“I’m not the same man I was when I was nineteen years old, Chloe.”
“Why did you leave?” The words fell out unbidden, unwanted. Chloe hadn’t meant to ask because she didn’t want to know. In her mind, there was no reason good enough for him to do what he’d done. None.
Blake ran a hand through his dark hair. In the sunlight, it was so black it shimmered like water. It betrayed the Italian heritage on his mother’s side, which was actually the only thing Chloe knew about Blake’s mother apart from the fact she hadn’t been around when he grew up.