her.
“Boudoir shots,” she corrected. “Or intimate photos. If you’re going to work with me you need to use the right vocabulary.”
“Sure. Do people ever ask for something more?”
“You mean like Joey? He was ready to strip, huh?” She started to laugh, but he interrupted her.
“I mean more graphic.” His eyes dug in, diamond-sharp with focus, and she felt stung.
“You mean, do I shoot porn?” Angry, she slid her locket back and forth hard on its chain. It was bad enough she got those awful calls, now her new employee was asking her the question. “Absolutely not. I believe the human body is beautiful. Sex, too. And I won’t exploit either one. I would think that you would already get that. And let me add that if that’s what you’re looking for, then—”
“Sorry. No. That’s not what I want. And I get it. I’m sorry I asked.”
He wore the strangest expression, as if she’d just passed some test she didn’t know she’d been given. He looked relieved.
So strange. He’d insulted her and he was relieved she’d snapped at him.
Worse, she was glad. She wanted him to like her. Part of her wanted to slip into a comfortable intimacy with this man. Part of her held back, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling her that she needed to know.
And the rest of her just plain wanted him.
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