he was the damned Easter Bunny.
Delaney’s soft chuckle drew him from his chaotic musings. “I’ve shocked you.”
“Not shocked,” Sam said simply for the sake of argument. “Just surprised. I had no idea that you were a lesbian.” He smiled up at her and tried to project a calmness he didn’t feel. “I’d understood that your fiancé was a man.”
He checked his camera over once more, deemed it unharmed, and once again tried to put things back on an even keel. Maybe if he concentrated really hard, he’d be able to think about something besides the way her gown had slipped down on her arm, baring one delectable shoulder. Besides tunneling underneath acres of white cotton and exploring every inch of her gorgeous body.
With his mouth.
“My fiancé was a man,” Delaney told him, “as was the last one. Men suck. Why not give a woman a shot?” she asked matter-of-factly. “I can be open-minded.”
Sam tsked, lined up another frame. “I don’t think being open-minded has anything to do with it.”
Delaney rolled over onto her stomach, let her hair fall over the end of the chaise. “Why not?”
He fired off another few shots, then paused. “Let me ask you something. Are you, or have you ever been attracted to a woman?”
She pulled a thoughtful face and winced. “No,” she said slowly. “But I’m hoping I can work past that.”
A laugh stuttered out of his chest. “That’s certainly an interesting goal.”
She pulled an offhanded shrug, baring a little more creamy skin. “Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
Sam finished off the roll of film. “Okay, that’s got this set completed. Wanna go change and meet me back in here?”
He’d said it casually, hoping not to lose what little ground they seemed to have gained during this stage of the shoot, but the instant his suggestion registered, her anxiety returned full force. Previously relaxed muscles went tight with tension and a frown wrinkled the smooth line of her brow.
Sam pretended to tweak his camera and eventually she nodded. “Sure. I’ll, uh, be right back.”
Theoretically speaking, if he were an outlet and she a plug, then one could reasonably assume that when she walked out of the room—pulled the plug, so to speak—he would return to normal. The clawing need would subside, his mega hard-on would wilt, and his skin would quit prickling.
To Sam’s disquiet, it didn’t and he grimly suspected that until he had her, it never would.
And having her was absolutely out of the question.
Number one, he didn’t sleep with clients. He’d worked hard to build a reputable business, depended heavily on word-of-mouth advertising. Everybody knew hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. One pissed-off chick with a vicious tongue could literally cost him thousands of dollars. Sam had seen it happen before.
Secondly, even if he were to forget the no-fornicating-with-a-client rule, it certainly wouldn’t be with a woman as emotionally wrecked as Delaney Walker. Sheesh. She’d just been jilted, was so messed up that she was considering becoming a lesbian. He’d have to be the biggest fool on earth to even consider letting something become of this hellish attraction that had blazed between them.
Finally, were those reasons not enough—which they certainly were—he desperately wanted a job at the Chifferobe. Wanted a shot at it so badly that he could taste it. This was his chance, dammit. He couldn’t afford to screw it up by acting on an almost overwhelming attraction. He could handle it. Would have to.
With that bracing thought, Sam turned as Delaney tentatively made her way back into the studio. His mind blanked as every ounce of blood he possessed raced back toward his groin. Every hair on his body stood on end and his breath froze in his lungs.
This gown was a long, sheer black silk wonder that left her shoulders bare beneath spaghetti straps, snugged against the full mounds of her breasts, showcased a mere slip of a waist and the generous curves of her hips. Open eyelet work trimmed with red appliqued roses formed a slinky S that curled provocatively around one breast, over her abdomen, down her hip and finally landed at the floor-length hem.
Other than her arms and shoulders, and a few peekaboo places down the front, she was covered from head to toe, but as far as Sam was concerned she might as well be naked. All that silky light-blond hair lay pooled over one shoulder and she’d tortured that full bottom lip until only a trace of her lipstick remained. He had never in his life seen a more beautiful woman.
Never.
In addition to all of the weird physical sensations he’d been subjected to since the moment he laid eyes on her, another more disconcerting feeling suddenly commenced in his chest, making it hard for him to draw a breath. It grew tight, then swelled with some unnamed emotion.
Delaney smiled self-consciously, making her all the more gorgeous. “Okay,” she sighed. “Now where do you want me?”
His tenuous grasp on control almost snapped. Where did he want her? Anywhere. Right there. Who cared? The only thing that lay between him and her were about ten feet of hardwood and a couple of scraps of clothing. With a little creative maneuvering, he could take her right there. In a heartbeat.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, forced the erection-provoking vision to subside. “What about over there?” He pointed to the animal print set. At the moment, he didn’t trust himself to say more.
Delaney crossed her arms over her chest, inadvertently plumping her generous breasts even more, and moved to the set he’d indicated. She sat stiffly on the couch. “Okay. Now what?”
“Why don’t you tell me about something that relaxes you?” Sam suggested, trying to loosen her up again. The tactic had worked before and perhaps a little conversation would make him quit thinking about tracing that peekaboo lace with his tongue. About bending her over the end of that couch and plunging into her sweet, slick heat from behind.
She forced a smile. Looked nervously around the room. “Chocolate relaxes me.”
He chuckled. So those rumors were true. He’d heard of her legendary chocoholism as well as a couple of interesting tidbits about her office. He’d heard that her inner sanctum was crammed full of antiques, was decorated in shades red, rose and pale pink and had been designed to look like the inside of a jewelry box. He couldn’t satisfy his curiosity about the one, but he could the other.
“Any particular kind of chocolate?” he asked as he lined up a spectacular shot.
“No, just plain unadulterated chocolate. No nuts, no caramel, no nougat.” She grinned and arched a brow. “Just chocolate.”
Sam took the shot and instinctively knew this frame would be his favorite. That gently curved, innocently provocative smile combined with the come-hither brow was awesome. With effort, he swallowed. “That was a gorgeous shot.”
“Really?”
“Really. Tell me about something else that relaxes you.”
She gave him another cheeky grin. “Sorry, don’t know you well enough.”
