bale.
“What you’re doing looks amazing, Rory,” Chloe said, the camera held to her eye. “Hold that pose.”
As the photographer swarmed around him, clicking, his gaze never wavered from Lizzie. For all her confidence, put things on a man-woman level and she apparently didn’t know what to do.
“Now cross your arms,” Chloe said.
Rory started fantasizing, imagining taking Lizzie’s hair out of the tight ponytail and running his fingers through the blond, curly strands. His imagination wandered further. Would the texture be as silky as he suspected? He pictured her golden hair falling around her face as she leaned over him in bed.
“Pick up the saddle.” Her voice cut through his fantasy.
He stood and did as requested, but pretended he was lifting her instead. Heck, she probably weighed less than the saddle. Then an image of them flashed in his mind: of her sliding down his body and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her beautiful hair spilled down her back as she tilted her face upward, exposing her graceful neck. What kind of sounds would she make when he explored her skin with his lips?
He lowered the saddle a little to cover his rising excitement.
How long had it been since he’d had a date? Over six months. Talk about the date from hell. Their dinner conversation had consisted of her telling him all about her last boyfriend, who she’d dated for five years, and how he’d dumped her. Rory’s previous relationship had been over a year ago, and since he wasn’t a casual sex kind of guy, that was the last time he’d been intimate.
He stared long and hard at Lizzie. Something about her reached out to him. Danged if he knew what, because a lot of women were prettier.
“Stephanie, mist Rory.” Lizzie tossed the request over her shoulder. “I want him to look like he’s been working up a sweat.”
Confidence. She had an air about her. Maybe that was what appealed to him. Such a tiny woman and yet she looked as if she’d stand up to a grizzly. Had to be either her assurance or his dry spell that accounted for his body’s unusual reaction.
The stylist popped up in front of him with a water bottle. The moisture sprayed on his chest instantly reminded him that he stood half-naked in front of a group of people, and that Lizzie had threatened to fire him unless he agreed to comply. His daydreams burned like dry kindling tossed on a campfire.
“You’re doing a fantastic job.” Stephanie batted her long eyelashes. “Once this campaign hits the street, Devlin jeans are going to fly off the shelf.”
He didn’t care whether or not the jeans sold well. All that mattered was that he earned thirty grand. Then he’d kiss this big city and modeling goodbye.
“Rory, set down the saddle and put on your hat,” Chloe said.
Bossy city women. Rory, do this. Rory, turn and look at me. Rory, you need to focus. He felt like an elementary schoolkid having a bad day.
“Push your hat back a little. We need to see more of your face.” This order came from Lizzie. “Cross your arms over your chest,” she called out next.
Good thing, because he was about to put his hands around her pretty little throat.
“I think we have everything we need,” she finally said. “Let’s call it a day, everyone.”
He walked past her to where he’d left his shirt, slipped the garment on and returned to her. He leaned down, not wanting anyone to overhear. “Next time we have a disagreement—” and based on today’s events, future disagreements were a sure thing “—we work them out in private. Don’t ever pull rank on me again. I don’t perform on command.”
“Neither do I,” she called out to his back.
Damned if the little minx wasn’t a spitfire, and damned if he didn’t admire her for that.
* * *
RORY’S WORDS HAMMERED in Elizabeth’s head as she walked to her office. How dare he speak to her like that? Then to top things off, he’d walked away without allowing her to say anything but the lamest of comebacks.
She’d definitely needed to set ground rules with the cowboy. He wasn’t in Colorado anymore, and the New York business world ran differently than a horse ranch. His open defiance of her authority had to stop. Otherwise, they’d butt heads constantly and make everyone miserable. An uncomfortable environment bred negativity, which led to poor work performance and an unhappy client.
When she arrived in her office, she found Chloe at her desk, downloading photos. Her friend glanced upward. “I don’t know how you work in this office. It’s too ordered. Doesn’t that stifle your creativity?”
“An orderly work space leads to an orderly mind.” Her grandmother’s pet phrase popped out before Elizabeth could stop it. She slid the chair from in front of her desk to the other side, close to the computer, and threw herself into the seat. “Sleep deprivation’s warping my mind, and turning me into my grandmother.”
“It could be worse.”
“How?”
Chloe shrugged. “I’m not sure. That just sounded like the thing to say. Wait a minute, I’ve got it. The good news is getting sleep will fix the problem.”
“I wish that would work on my problem with Rory. I hope he’s not going to continue to be so difficult.”
“What was with you two, anyway?” Chloe asked. “Playing referee is not in my job description, and if it’s going to be in the future, I want more money.”
“He pushed every one of my buttons today. The man could write a book on how to become the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”
“Apparently the sparks are still flying.”
“Can you believe he refused to take off his shirt? I don’t get what the big deal was. It wasn’t like I was asking him to pose in his underwear.”
“If I could figure guys out, do you think I’d be here?” Chloe pulled up the first set of photos onto the computer screen, the ones of Rory sitting on the hay bale. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d be in the Caribbean living off the money I made from my New York Times bestseller on how to understand men.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Chloe pointed to the monitor. “Check these out.”
Elizabeth stared at the photos. Rory had a presence. Incredible, steamy, make-a-woman’s-insides-tingle-with-a-look presence. “The shots are fantastic, but they don’t showcase the jeans.”
“I agree, but do you want to put one of these in a portfolio to show Devlin how well Rory photographs?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
Chloe clicked computer keys and a second later the printer hummed to life. “Now, about you and Rory, I wasn’t talking about the arguing type of sparks. I was talking about the making-you-all-hot-and-bothered ones.”
Elizabeth stood and retrieved the photo from the printer. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Good comeback. That’ll make her drop the subject.
She laughed. “You never were a good liar.”
“So, I admit it. The guy drives me crazy.”
Chloe flashed her an annoying best-friend, know-it-all smile.
“I didn’t mean that in a good way,” Elizabeth stated. “He’s stubborn, inflexible, and refuses to take directions or criticism well.”
“One person’s fighting is another person’s dancing.”
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.” After tossing the photo onto the desk blotter, Elizabeth sank back into her chair. “If you’re trying