Jill Shalvis - Bared

“It’s good,” he said, his voice even.

How did he do that? Remain so cool, while her heart threatened to burst right out of her chest just from seeing him look at her. “There’s…not a lot of coverage.”

His gaze cut down to her behind. “Nope.”

She stared at herself in the mirror, careful not to look at his reflection-his sharp eyes, his lean unshaven jaw or the way the wind had tousled his hair into a mess that her fingers suddenly itched to touch.

Clearly, she had lost her mind.

But it was hard to keep it when he was a mere inch behind her, when she could feel his breath on her neck, when she was watching him watch her. Even as she thought it, her nipples puckered into two tight buds.

Terror, she told herself. It was the terror at being in front of a camera again, exposed. At his beck and call.

But even as she thought it, she didn’t believe it.

No, what she felt wasn’t terror, but…excitement. Arousal.

And she had no idea what to make of that. Or of herself.

IN THE END, Rafe had to hold her hand. It was that or lose her on the last leg of the climb to the top of the rock formation, and he used the word climb loosely.

Really, it’d been nothing more than a slightly taxing walk. But not to his model. “Let’s go,” he said over his shoulder, practically towing her. The sky was wide open and so blue he could have drowned in it, but that was only directly overhead. From the west came a rather vicious wind and he could see the white clouds darkening as they swirled together and gained momentum.

How many times had he been here? he wondered. The rocks, the sky, the amazing foliage that survived the harsh winters and violent summers…it all amazed and calmed him in a way little else did.

But his experience told him what those clouds meant. He knew they might have an hour before the unexpected spring storm hit…or five minutes. “Come on.”

She blew a strand of hair from her face. “‘Come on,’ he says,” she muttered, and used her free hand to yank at the jean shorts that couldn’t possibly be yanked at because there simply wasn’t enough material. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Coming . Such an innocent word, really, so why it put a picture in his brain of her sprawled out and naked beneath him, coming , he had no idea.

He shook his head and strove to find something else to think about. “I thought you’ve been running and taking yoga,” he said. Emma vexed and puzzled him, so he felt like vexing and puzzling her back.

“Running?”

Apparently the twins did have at least one thing in common-a healthy dislike of strenuous exercise. “You know, jogging? To keep fit?”

“Oh. Yes.”

He glanced at her in time to see her worry her lower lip, and bit back his own grim smile. He really had no idea why he loved torturing her, but he wasn’t nearly done. “Because I have to tell you, Amber, you need to get a refund on that private trainer you hired.”

When the wind whipped up her hair and blew it across her face, she irritatedly shoved the hair away. “She’s, um, been on vacation.”

“You mean ‘he?’ He’s been on vacation?”

Dismayed, she just looked at him.

The cost of her clothing-$150.

The price of her makeup and hair-$200.

The look on her face-priceless.

“Yes,” he said. “You remember Harris. The trainer you use four times a week.”

“Clearly,” she said, and she managed a laugh. “I shouldn’t walk and talk at the same time.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed, too. Poor baby, being so torn between having to lie and needing to keep the cover-God only knows why.

And damned if he wasn’t attracted to her innocence even as the continued lie bugged the hell out of him.

Somehow it combined, in some weird way, to work as a powerful aphrodisiac. It was sick, he knew, being turned on by her under the circumstances and he knew he had to ignore it.

And her.

At least, the best he could. Luckily, they reached the top. He admired the view and took a deep breath, but when he turned to her, he let the breath out with a laugh.

Bent, hands on her knees, she huffed and puffed for air. “Don’t say a word.”

“Word.”

She laughed. “Why do you do that? Why are you so…”

“So…?”

“So tough? Hard to crack?”

He just looked at her and her open expression shuttered.

“You know, there’s something I’d really like to tell you,” she said. “But it’s complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t tell you.”

“That doesn’t make much sense, Amber .” He emphasized her name, and she winced a little.

“I know.”

Above them, the clouds were moving like a speeding train. He didn’t want to have to bail back to the cars and sit and wait out another storm. “What are the chances you’re going to tell me the thing that you can’t tell me?”

“Small,” she said apologetically. Her eyes were filled with conflict. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

“Tell me, anyway.”

“I have a better idea. Let’s just do this.”

Fine. “Wait here.” He went to the edge where he wanted her to stand during the shoot. In spite of the whipping wind, Stone had set up already, and with the lighting perfect, they were ready.

“Now’s better than later,” Stone said, checking his light meter. “I don’t think we have a later.”

Rafe glanced upward, watched the clouds rumbling. Yep, they were losing time quickly. He looked back at Emma. She was bent over again, and he took a moment to take in the nice view of the hot shorts riding up her-

“Now, that’s the shot that would sell millions,” Stone said in appreciation. “She should bottle that ass and-” He broke off when Rafe growled. “What?”

“She’s our model. ”

“Right. I think I know that.” Stone eyed him. “Don’t look now, man, but you’re doing it again.” He waggled a knowing eyebrow. “Just like last week. You’re acting like you’re interested in her beyond how she looks through your lens.”

“And you’re doing it again.”

“What’s that?”

“Talking too much.”

Stone just laughed. “So…when are you going to tell her we know she’s not Amber?”

Stone took another look at Emma. She straightened and swiped at her brow, then grimaced and checked her arm, presumably to see if she’d smeared her makeup. She had, he could see from here, and she sent a sweet smile of apology to Jen, who rushed over with her bag.

Amber never would have apologized, nor would she have wiped her face on her forearm. Because, at all times, Amber was intensely aware of her makeup and how she looked.

Clearly, Emma wasn’t.

He waited until she’d been repaired, waited until she stood alone near the edge of the rock formation. Near the edge and yet far back. Apparently she was trying to look and trying not to look at the same time, while casually glancing around her to see if anyone was watching her.

As well as being unused to a lot of makeup, Emma didn’t like heights.

And she obviously didn’t like being so exposed. Her hair was still whipping around her face, and through the halter top he could see her nipples puckering against the material…just before she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself.

For the oddest reason, that got him, and he moved to her side, blocking her from view of the others. “Cold?”

She shrugged.

Not a complainer, he’d give her that. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Startled, she glanced at him as if not sure what he was referring to. When she saw him looking out to the desert beyond them, she relaxed a little.