“Don’t be. Best pose I’ve seen all day.”
Her gaze locked on to his and refused to be freed. More than her face felt warm now, her entire body ignited. Her skin seemed pulled too tight, and her nipples poked at her blouse. Feeling betrayed by her own body, she turned to Sadie, careful to be far more modest this time as she once again coaxed the dog into the right position.
Sadie held that position until exactly the second Nick reached for the flash, when she promptly walked right off the set and sat down at Danielle’s feet.
Nick cocked his hip and studied Sadie. “Is she really some sort of champion?”
“She is.” Danielle sighed when Sadie yawned again. “You’re boring her.”
“Maybe I should dance and sing.”
“Just keep trying.” Desperation was clawing at her. Could she get the shots developed right here and now? Or would he give her the film so she could try another lab?
It had to be one option or the other, as she had to go from here straight to Donald Wutherspoon, in the hopes he’d get work for Sadie.
And income for her.
If not, then she had to get another job, quick. She was qualified, and after ten years, quite reputable as a handler. People knew and trusted her with their animals and she’d made a decent living at showing champion dogs. But stealing a dog, even for a really good reason, would ruin her. Not to mention the fact that Ted would likely look for her at any local show, or even within all of Rhode Island, which just wasn’t big enough for her to disappear.
Danielle couldn’t let Sadie be taken back. If she could only earn enough cash to disappear, then she’d go far, far away and start over, doing whatever she had to in order to make a living to support the two of them.
“Hey.” Nick suddenly appeared in front of her, cupping her jaw in his hand, looking deep into her eyes, making her realize he’d called her name several times. “What’s really going on here?”
His fingers were on her skin, electrifying her. “What do you mean?”
“You’re jumpy and nervous.” His eyes were so deep, so tuned on her, she had to swallow, hard.
“Maybe I’m always nervous around strangers.”
“We’re not strangers.”
No. No, they weren’t. “Well, then maybe I’m nervous seeing you again.”
“When you rarely gave me the time of day?” He let out a rough laugh. “Doubtful.” His thumb stroked her jaw. “So tell me. What’s really up?”
With no idea what she was going to say, Danielle opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Sadie nosed her way in between the two of them and bared her teeth at Nick.
Nick lifted his hand off Danielle. “A watchdog, are you?”
Danielle stroked a hand down the ruffled hair at Sadie’s thick neck. “She won’t bite.”
Nick eyed the dog warily. “If you say so.” But he didn’t touch Danielle again.
Shouldn’t have touched her in the first place because now he had the incredibly soft, satiny feel of her flesh implanted on his brain.
“If you’d pet her, maybe smile at her, she’d probably relax,” Danielle suggested.
“If I pet you, smile at you, will you relax?”
Her eyes widened for a moment on his before she looked away. “You’re playing with me.”
“I don’t play with people’s feelings.”
Her huge eyes met his. “Do you still hate me?”
“Hate you?”
“You know, from high school.”
He stared at her for a moment, then laughed, but she didn’t so much as smile, so his own slowly faded. “Danielle, back then, hating you was just about the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Even after…that night?”
“Especially after that night.”
When her misty eyes blinked in surprise, he nodded wryly. “Yeah. Big-time crush.”
“I had no idea.”
“No kidding.”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I hate to think about those days, about the kids I hung with, and how mean they were—”
“It was a long time ago.” He backed away from her, annoyed that he’d brought any of it up. Annoyed that he’d still occasionally wondered about her. “Like I said, I don’t think about those days anymore.”
She glanced down at Sadie, that vulnerability and infinite sadness back in her gaze. “Yeah.”
Just looking at her again made him feel like that stupid, gawky teenager he thought he’d left behind years ago. Had left behind years ago. He was a successful, respected journalist. He had a life, a great one.
He didn’t need this. He nodded toward Sadie, suddenly eager to see them leave, eager to get back to his carefully unplanned leisure time, where he didn’t have to think or feel. “Let’s just get your pictures, okay?”
“Yeah.” Danielle tried to pull Sadie before the outdoor screen. Sadie didn’t want to go. Digging her paws in, jaw stubborn, she held back.
But apparently Danielle was just as stubborn because she pulled and pulled with all her might. “You’re…going…to pose,” she grunted.
Fascinated and amused in spite of himself, Nick watched. Danielle’s brow was furrowed, her hair in her eyes. Her face, tight with concentration, slowly turned as red as it had when she’d realized she’d shoved her very nicely curved bottom in his face.
Filled with determination, she did indeed eventually budge the dog, and he had to admire the strength in her willowy frame for doing so.
“You…could…help,” she rasped, getting Sadie on the right spot, tossing him an irritated look that only made his grin wider.
“Why? You’re doing great.” The dog had to weigh over a hundred pounds. No way was he going to push it around and risk losing a finger or more. He was fond of his fingers. And fond, he discovered, of watching Danielle sweat.
He wondered what else would make her sweat and grunt like that. Wondered if she liked down-and-dirty sex, if she—
Whoa. Back the truck up. He was not having those thoughts, not about this woman.
“Okay,” Danielle said breathlessly, straightening. “Get ready, Nick.” She stroked the dog, soothed her, kissed her nose, even rubbed her cheek against Sadie’s.
Nick watched this honest display of affection and felt something tug inside, good and hard. Damn it.
“Take the picture,” Danielle said. “Quick.”
Nick moved behind the camera, watching through the lens as Danielle praised and hugged Sadie, with little disregard for the dog hair sticking to her clothing, for the drool that dripped down one arm, for her own wildly rioting hair, or the way she once again presented him with her delectable backside.
“Ready?” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Ready,” Nick said, eyes glued to her body as she quickly moved out of range.
When the camera shutter closed, she sagged back against the wall in relief, closing her eyes, breathing deeply.
Mesmerized by the emotions crossing her fine features, Nick moved from behind the camera and came to stand before her. “It’s just a picture.”
Her eyes flew open. “When can I have them?”
“In