took control from her hands. Ever.
‘If you think you can waltz into our town and lay down the law, you can think again.’ Pierce was not impressed with her desire to order him about. He wouldn’t tolerate it and he could make her stay increasingly difficult if she kept it up. She could take her arrogant, big-city outlook and hop straight back on a plane. ‘Don’t bring your condescending attitude here. I’m doing you a favour.’
‘Me a favour? You’re helping a charity, not me personally. And not doing a lot except taking off your clothes. Hardly a huge ask. So contrary to your suggestion about running things tomorrow I have bad news for you. The shoot will be done Laine’s way.’
Pierce eyed the stunning brunette who had just given him a serving. She certainly wasn’t a shrinking violet. She was a tiny dictator of sorts. A very beautiful dictator. He wondered for a moment why she wasn’t on the other side of the camera. Her flawless figure was evident in a tight white singlet top and faded blue jeans. She was a natural beauty with little, if any, make-up, yet she didn’t seem to fuss about her appearance. But he needed to forget how attractive she was and remember that she was telling him what to do—and he didn’t take kindly to that.
‘I can sit on a tractor on the McKenzies’ farm. No great planning needed. Country doctor, on a farm, on a tractor. Shoot done. Photo taken. It’s a wrap—isn’t that what they say?’
Laine rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe how little he valued or understood her craft. In his eyes, her livelihood was quickly and simply reduced to plonking a doctor on a tractor and taking a snap.
‘Perhaps you could just take a selfie with your phone and send it to me?’ Laine was not about to try and explain the process she undertook in planning and delivering a quality shoot to a man who had no idea. She continued zipping up the last of her bags.
‘I still don’t agree with the calendar idea,’ he remarked, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.
‘It’s a proven formula,’ she replied matter-of-factly. ‘Eligible shirtless men, with a bit of tweaking, become every woman’s fantasy.’
‘Tweaking?’ he asked, with a frown knitting his dark brows. ‘You are on a roll, aren’t you? Do you insult all of your subjects so matter-of-factly?’
Laine stopped what she was doing for a moment and looking at Pierce with a stoic expression replied, ‘It wasn’t an insult. It’s a fact. I edit photos to bring out the best and hide the flaws. Photography is often pure fantasy. I make the subject irresistible. Whether it’s a string of pearls, a leather handbag or an automobile that only two per cent of the population could actually afford to buy. I make it the most desirable possession. Something the consumer cannot live without. I make it shinier than it really is, more beautiful than it might be and in doing so turn it into the stuff of dreams.’
‘So it’s all smoke and mirrors?’ Pierce remarked. ‘No real shots for you. Nothing of any depth. Doesn’t really surprise me. It’s just about selling a product, full stop.’
‘And what gives you the right to say that? You know nothing about me,’ she retorted, getting back to her feet and facing him. ‘I love my gritty real shots, like photographing older people. I don’t remove a single line or make any changes. The character in faces that have seen hardship and joy in equal amounts are priceless. But if I’m contracted to make a product sell, then I will tweak until I can’t tweak any more!’
Laine knew well enough that none of Pierce’s shots would need any editing on her behalf. He had a kind of refined magnetism that would stir any female and she wouldn’t tamper with that.
The last hour in Pierce’s presence had been professionally frustrating but that was the least of her problems. There was something about this man and this situation that was making Laine feel ill at ease. Whether it was Pierce’s very real and very natural sensuality or just being back in Uralla wasn’t clear to her, but something was making her feel uncomfortable.
She was accustomed to models and their ability to turn it on and turn it off, but Pierce didn’t seem to have a switch. He was genuinely this sexy, twenty-four seven. It was innate and palpable and he had an inner strength that shone though. And for some inexplicable reason he was unnerving her.
‘Were you being difficult for the sake of it or was it another reason why you didn’t want to take the step up the ladder?’ she asked, trying to bring the conversation back to business. ‘You really did seem to overreact to my request.’
‘I told you that I didn’t want to be involved. Let’s leave it at that. You won’t convince me that there’s not a better or easier way to raise funds to support your charity.’
Laine turned away again and wound up the cords draped across the floor. She suspected there was more to his reticence in taking that step than just arrogance but she thought better of pursuing the matter. She just wanted to finish the shoot on time and get away from him. With the cords packed up, she closed her laptop, slipped it into her backpack and turned towards him.
‘They did their market research and decided on a calendar. It worked for the firemen last year so the charity chose twelve of Australia’s most eligible general practitioners. And you, Dr Beaumont, have the dubious honour of being the last for the year. You’re Dr December,’ she announced as she zipped up the last of her bags.
‘Call me Pierce, Dr Beaumont is way too formal and correct me if I’m wrong, as I’m sure you will, but I can’t see anything around here that looks at all festive.’ Pierce rubbed his chin and added dryly, ‘What about I remove what’s left of my clothing and you strategically place a Christmas tree in front of me?’
Pierce would never normally have spoken this way to a woman he barely knew. His behaviour was always beyond reproach. Always. But with his feet securely on the ground and his anger subsiding, Laine’s behaviour was bringing out a different, irreverent side of him and he suspected with her New York attitude Laine could take it. And give it back. She clearly wasn’t the shy type.
‘Strategically positioned Christmas tree?’ she muttered as she returned her gaze to him. Suddenly her heart began to race. She had to push the visual from her mind. He was leaning on the desk with his arms folded across the ripples of his tanned chest. She had captured photos of some incredibly good-looking men over the last three weeks, but he was clearly the most handsome. Hands down. She swallowed and tried to think of him as just another subject but he was different from the other doctors. They had been helpful and a little flattered to be asked and two had even very politely invited her out to dinner, which she had equally politely refused, but Pierce Beaumont had an attitude that both annoyed and intrigued her.
She wasn’t sure that he knew just how good looking he was, but she suspected he knew women would not run away from his advances. He wasn’t overly close but there was electricity in the air she had to cut. It made her feel uncomfortable that he was stirring up feelings she didn’t want to feel. She had another two days’ shooting with him and she couldn’t let him get under her skin.
Laine hated to admit it but the sight of his toned body so close to her did make her breathing a little shallow. She bit her lip. This was crazy. She had filmed ludicrously handsome male models for an underwear shoot in a New York subway a month ago and they had left her cold. It had always been a job. But now this country doctor with his defiance and an aversion to ladders was making her feel very self-conscious.
She had to push him away. She preferred being alone. No one to depend on. No one who could leave and make her feel as if her heart had broken in two, wondering whether she could
