meanwhile planning how he was going to make his clerk grovel hugely in the morning.
‘He put me through to your Head of Chambers. Then I told Leo all about it and he said he thought it was really a good idea, too. And he’s getting clearance for us so you can do the shoot in the local court. He says he’ll cover any photographic permission costs at the court himself.’
‘Oh, good God.’ With his boss on side, there was no way Nick could get out of it. He covered his face with his hands. ‘Please tell me this is some weird, surreal dream. Please tell me it’s a nightmare and I’m going to wake up. Preferably right now.’
‘Nick, I’ve already told them you said yes,’ Mandy said plaintively.
‘That was before I knew I was going to be naked. This is a seriously bad idea, Mandy,’ he said softly. ‘I’m a senior barrister. I have to respect the dignity of the court. Which doesn’t mean posing naked—or near-naked—for a calendar shoot, no matter how noble the cause is.’
‘But Leo said it would be OK. And... Nick, we need you,’ Mandy pleaded. ‘And it’s not as if you’re the only one with a responsible job. One of the surgeons at the hospital is doing it.’
‘Which is publicity for his own place of work.’
‘And I think there’s an actor and a musician on their list. And a chef.’
‘All of whom would get a career boost from the publicity,’ he pointed out.
‘Please, Nick. For me. And for Xander.’
‘It doesn’t look as if I’ve got much choice,’ he said grimly. ‘But promise me you’ll never, ever pitch a stunt like this again.’
‘I promise. I’m sorry, Nick.’ She bit her lip. ‘But the ward needs the money.’
Lack of money meant lack of equipment. Which in turn meant that some kids wouldn’t get the treatment they so badly needed. And that meant that those kids might even die.
Which was Nick’s worst nightmare regarding his nephew.
And he was in a position to change that. To give more kids a chance of life—the same amazing chance that Xander had been given. All he had to do was pose for one little picture that would help to publicise the cause and encourage people to donate.
One little naked picture.
It really went against the grain. But far worse was the thought of his nephew dying and the way it would shatter all their lives and devastate his elder sister.
‘All right,’ he said, blowing out a breath. ‘But I need to double-check this with Leo myself, first, and make sure that he’s absolutely clear on all the details. And if he changes his mind and says that I can’t do it, then I’ll sell calendars by hand for you—and I’m very persuasive, so I’ll sell tons of them to everyone in the whole of Inner Temple and Middle Temple. Plus I’ll also give a personal donation to match those sales. Double.’ Time and money. They’d be a good alternative to posing naked for a calendar, wouldn’t they?
And hopefully he’d be able to persuade his Head of Chambers that having one of his barristers naked and in the focus of the press might not be such a good idea...
AND OF COURSE Leo still said yes. Even when Nick pointed out exactly what was involved.
So, two weeks later, Nick found himself heading to the local Crown court. Leo had arranged for Court Number Two to be used outside the normal court working hours, though there was still a chance that Nick might bump into someone he knew who’d want to know what he was doing hanging round the court building when he wasn’t in a trial—especially when he looked as scruffy as he did right now.
S. J. Thompson, the photographer, had sent him a couple of very business-like texts to arrange the photo shoot and explain that Nick needed to dress casually and remove anything that might cause a mark on his skin—socks, collars, waistbands and the like—at least two hours before the shoot.
For putting him through something as embarrassing as this—not to mention the teasing he knew he’d get from his colleagues when the calendar actually came out—Fate had better keep Xander safe, Nick thought grimly.
When he got to the court, carrying his court attire in its usual boxes, there was nobody waiting outside. The only person he could see in the lobby was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties or so, wearing black trousers, a black silky short-sleeved top and black shoes. Her blonde hair was cropped so short as to be almost a military cut. She didn’t look remotely like the man Nick was here to meet.
She looked up from her book, then closed it, stood up and walked towards him. ‘Nick Kennedy, I presume?’
He blinked. Was she the photographer’s assistant or something? ‘Yes.’
‘Thank you for being on time. I’m S. J. Thompson—though you can call me Sammy, if you like.’ She held out her hand for him to shake.
‘You’re S. J. Thompson?’ Even as the words came out, he realised how dim they sounded. And how stupid of him to assume that the use of initials meant that the photographer was male.
She gave him a slight smile. ‘I’m afraid so.’
Clearly he wasn’t the first to have made that mistake. ‘I—er—nice to meet you,’ he said, feeling totally wrong-footed.
And, when he shook her hand, awareness zinged through every pore. Sammy Thompson was the most striking woman he’d met in a long time. And that severe haircut only served to highlight how pretty and feminine her face was. There was nothing masculine at all about her. Her mouth was a perfect rosebud, and he found himself wanting to trace her lower lip with his fingertip. Worse still, he could picture himself doing that before leaning in and kissing her. Lightly at first, a touch as light as a butterfly’s wing, and then deepening the kiss as she responded...
He shook himself mentally. Oh, for pity’s sake. This was business. OK, maybe not the normal kind of business he’d conduct here in the court, but it was still business. And he wasn’t exactly known for having ridiculous flights of fancy.
But he did feel uncomfortable right now.
It was nothing to do with sexism—as far as he was concerned, it was how you did your job that mattered, not what your gender or your sexual orientation or your religion was—but Sammy’s gender made this situation a little more difficult. Because it meant that now he was going to be stripping off in front of a woman he’d never met before.
Either his doubts showed on his face or she was used to this reaction from the people she photographed, because she said softly, ‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think. And, if it helps, remember that I’ll be seeing you simply as a life model rather than as an actual person. I don’t tend to hit on my models.’
‘I—yes. Of course. Sorry.’ How long had it been since he’d felt in a whirl, like this? He was never this pathetic and woolly. And he really hoped he didn’t look as if he was staring at her. He forced himself to look away. ‘I believe we have Court Number Two booked.’
‘My
