Stephanie Bond - Irresistible?

“First sitting? I’m afraid this is all new to me.”

“I’ll need you to sit for me for a total of about fifteen hours.”

His eyes widened. “Fifteen hours?”

Ellie laughed and raised her hands in defense. “Not all at once. One or two hours at a time—whatever you feel up to. I’ll take photographs to work from at home.”

He scowled and folded his arms. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

The toothpick remark she’d made to Manny came to her lips, but she bit it back. Instead, she said, “Just relax—I’m not painting you in your mallard-print boxers.”

Mark studied her for a minute, the tiniest hint of a smile lifting the comers of his mouth. “I don’t wear mallard-print boxers, but then I thought you’d know from your earlier vantage point in the men’s room.”

Ellie swallowed. Maybe he wasn’t as uptight as she’d thought. “Briefs, then.”

He shook his head. “Wrong again.”

“Bikinis?” she squeaked.

Mark extended a finger and beckoned her to come closer. Ellie did, and leaned forward for him to whisper in her ear. “Bare-assed.”

Ellie jerked up and took a step back before she realized he was laughing at her:

“That wasn’t very nice,” she retorted.

“You fished for it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Where were we?” she asked, trying to reassume a professional stance.

“I was sitting for you.”

“Shall we do it here in your office?”

His eyes raked over her body. “It would be a first, but sure.”

Her pulse leaped. The image of them vibrating his desk across the room came to mind, but she stifled it. The chemicals she emitted triggered his reaction and she’d do well to remember that. She forced a serious face, refusing to verbally acknowledge his innuendo. “Fine. When?”

He still smiled, his eyes dancing. “Tomorrow morning at nine?”

“I’ll be here with my camera,” she said, already walking toward the door.

“You bring your equipment,” he called to her. “And I’ll bring mine.”

Mark caught the flash of her silver purse being slung over her shoulder as she closed the door. Where had that idiotic comment come from? He jumped up and clutched his head with both hands, pacing. He’d never made suggestive comments to women he’d worked with. Willing women were plentiful, he’d never had to worry about mixing business with pleasure and risking a ruinous outcome. He cursed, rubbed his eyes, and walked the length of his office to his liquor cabinet. Appraising the newly stocked shelves, he selected a fine Kentucky bourbon, and poured himself a shot.

Tomorrow he’d conduct himself like the professional he was. He’d refuse to rise to her bait, no matter how enticing. The last thing he needed was for a nut like Ellie Sutherland to complicate his life.

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