“Was there another option?” With a turn on his heel, he marched back down the hall. She could hear the thumping of his boots all the way.
Her cell rang and she saw the ID was her mother. “Mom, you okay?”
“I’m fine, dear. Just checking in.”
“Great.”
“Is that old place safe enough for you to be staying in?”
“Besides a few cobwebs, I think it’ll suffice.” Ivy hoped.
“Where will you be sleeping?”
Ivy smiled at her mother’s sincere interrogation. “In the master suite. You wouldn’t believe how lovely it is.”
“Take pictures. Is there electricity? How will you eat? You’ll eat properly, right?”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll be fine. The house isn’t the problem. I have a much bigger issue.”
“Oh no, you sound miserable. Is it that bad? And please, don’t leave out the juicy details.” Her mother’s chuckle vibrated the phone line.
“Juicy details? I’m not sure they could be referred to as juicy,” Ivy said. “Although, we did have a small disagreement.” She glanced to make sure she was still alone.
“Oh really?”
“Now I understand what ‘bighead’ means. Max is the most egotistical, arrogant jerk I’ve ever met. I should have just let his arrogance slide in one ear and out the other, but you know me. I get long-winded when I’m upset or nervous. Why am I such a big-mouth? Is there something in our gene pool that causes us to talk too much?”
“That’s certainly not a bad thing, dear. Sometimes it’s necessary to tell others how we feel, to shine light on their bad behavior, just as long as we don’t lash out as a way to hide our own issues.”
Ivy didn’t want to ask her mother what she meant. She had a feeling she already knew. “Max and I just have to get along for the next two weeks. I don’t want to be here with him any more than he wants to be here with me. He is the most deplorable man I’ve ever met.”
“This is your biggest lesson as a writer. You have to grin and bear it, even when you think it’s impossible.”
“At least he’s nice to look at.” Ivy admitted. She would definitely enjoy watching him as long as he didn’t open his mouth. But good looks didn’t make someone nice. If a person was ugly on the inside it didn’t take long for the nastiness to seep to the outside.
Finishing the call, she went downstairs and into the sitting room where she found the devil himself sitting on the floor, slumped over his camera equipment in concentration. He either didn’t hear her enter or he was just simply ignoring her. If she had to bet she’d go with the latter. She saw that he had changed his shirt and picked the foliage out of his thick, dark hair.
Ivy meandered over to the fireplace and stood there for a few minutes. He still paid her no attention. She couldn’t understand why he was pissed at her. She hadn’t caused him to fall into the bushes.
With a dramatic sigh, she moved over to the small, flowered sofa, patted the cushions and took a seat. It was actually quite comfortable. She tucked her feet up and leaned her chin against her propped-up hand.
Ivy made an attempt to keep her eyes off Max’s profile. She found it impossible. Somehow the man was like a magnet drawing her attention. She watched his long, lean fingers as they moved deftly in unscrewing the converter lens from the camera. He had nice hands. Large, and his nails were clean. She wondered what those fingers would feel like on her body. Was he as much of an expert on lovemaking as he was hunting ghosts and writing about it?
She swallowed with difficulty. Was she crushing on the delusional man? She would never–nor did she want to–know what making love with Max Shepard would be like. So why would she even drift down that impossible path? She liked gentle and kind men. Would a man like Max take his bed rules as seriously as he did his work rules–serious and raw? Or would he rush through lovemaking like an adrenaline junkie needing a fix? Wam, bam, thank you ma’am. No thank you. She could imagine that he was skilled at sex but not in communication.
It did strike her that, while maybe she was being a little presumptuous regarding Max’s character, she doubted she was too far off target. She’d seen a few of his pictures in the tabloids since his divorce. He seemed to enjoy women who had more beauty than brains. Once he dated a popular actress who was known for her role as “the dumb blonde” on TV and off.
It wasn’t all his fault, she was sure. He probably had more than a few women who would find nothing more pleasurable than hitting the sack with him. He exuded masculinity and sexuality.
So why then did she notice these tempting qualities? She wasn’t interested in accompanying herself with fast men. Ivy had a clue why. She didn’t believe it had anything to do with his appeal. It was the bad boy attitude. It was intriguing. He was nothing like the men in Morgan Sites.
She gave a stretch of her arms over her head and sighed. It was starting to get dark outside and the room was falling into a shadow. The silence was irritating. “I guess I should take my bags upstairs to the bedroom.” No response. “Hmm, it’s getting late.” Just as she suspected, he still didn’t respond. “So no issue with me sleeping in the beautiful master suite, I hope?”
“If you talk in your sleep as much as you do when you’re awake, I’ll be happy that you’ve chosen the room farthest away from mine.”
She narrowed her eyes. Could the man say anything without proving he had a hair up his ass? “I don’t talk in my sleep.” At least she didn’t think she did.
“Good.” He took a soft cloth and rubbed the lens.
“Will you be up late taking pictures?” she asked.
“Yes.” He looked at her strangely. “There you are, trying to smooth things again.”
Ivy refused to allow him to anger her. “I guess I should ask, do you snore? I can’t stand to hear anyone snoring.” She pretended interest in a loose string hanging from the frayed material of the settee.
Max went back to cleaning his camera. “Why? Do you plan to sleep with me?” His voice held not even an ounce of humiliation.
She’d walked right into that verbal trap. He wasn’t even looking at her when he said his words and the sexual innuendo made her squirm in her seat. She was ashamed. Her body betrayed her.
She was beginning to expect everything and anything from this man who apparently had no mortification. “Only in your dreams, Max,” she stated firmly. “I must tell you, I don’t sleep around on the job. But no worries. I’m not your type, right?”
“Thanks for the clarification. I’ll remember that.” He set his camera down and looked her directly in the eye. Her breath quickened. “I have a rule that I don’t sleep around on the job either, especially with someone who I’m not even sure I like, but if you don’t quit looking at me like that I may change my mind. Now, you wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you?”
His voice was smooth and confident. She eyed him curiously, wondering if he were joking. The set of his jaw went hard. “I think you’re forgetting that I’d have to be interested, which I’m not.”
“Oh, you’re interested.” He lifted the corners of his mouth into a perfect mocking smile.
“Go ahead and poke fun. Some people would think this situation could get a little awkward. I just wanted to make things clear and to let you know that I don’t plan on allowing intimacy to become an issue.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyebrows. “Do you feel that you must make everything clear to everyone as it pops into your mind? We are just here to do our individual jobs, not to share every aspect of our existence.”
“Oh,