Intimate (17 page)

“Perfect.” He liked what she'd said, though he wasn't thinking of lipstick.

We should be able to make a good match.

Kaz released his hand and headed toward the elevator. Jake stared at his fingers a moment before raising his head and catching Kaz watching him. “Go on up,” he said. “I want to see what time we have to check out.”

The elevator doors opened. She waved and stepped inside, but Jake stared at the empty spot where she'd been. In just a couple of days, he'd gotten so used to having her beside him that he felt her absence as a physical loss. He had no one to blame but himself—this was the future he'd chosen, the one he'd mapped out for himself.

Alone, but for the occasional meaningless relationship. He hadn't minded before, but there'd never been anyone like Kaz. He doubted there'd ever be another, but the connection she'd made with Fletch this morning was proof she wasn't meant to stay with Jake.

She was smart and beautiful—a dangerous combination for Jake's peace of mind. She was destined for so much more than he could offer. A natural in front of the camera, she had perfect instincts for playing a scene, and a sexy voice that would work beautifully for commercials.

A voice he knew he'd be hearing in his dreams for years. When the Intimate campaign went national in just a few short weeks, Kaz was going to be everywhere. She didn't seem to realize what changes were ahead of her, the true scope of the campaign. Marc had a lot of ad space booked—an international media blitz that only someone with Marcus Reed's resources could afford—and Kaz's face would be at the heart of the promotion. Fletcher's commercial, should she end up doing that, would give her even broader national media attention.

Commercials would expose the world to more than her absolutely perfect body—they'd get to hear that sexy voice of hers. How was he going to handle that, never again hearing those deep-throated cries of pleasure, or her soft, husky whispers, begging for more?

A shiver ran across his spine; already he felt the loss. He shook himself out of it and got into line at the front desk. It looked like this might take a while.

He pulled out his phone to look at the pictures again, slowly scrolling through shot after shot of Kaz. She was exquisite, absolutely breathtaking in every single shot. The jewelry didn't make her look prettier—she showcased the jewels in a manner that was going to put Marc over the moon.

He paused at one where she'd been nude from the waist up, but the combination of light and shadow and the multihued scarf had turned the photograph into art, acceptable for commercial use by anyone's standards. Another showcased the chains shimmering from nipples to navel with the monarch butterfly filling the frame. It was spectacular, not merely because of the brilliant colors, but also because of the perfect lines of Kaz's sleek body.

He had no doubt, over the next few months, Kaz Kazanov was going to explode onto the modeling scene. As the photographer, Jake could stay in the background, but her life, and anyone she was connected to, was going to face close scrutiny. Jake couldn't handle the possible attention if he were still a part of Kaz's life.

He could already see the headlines of the online gossip sites, comparing the death of Kaz's little sister to Jake's time locked up for the same type of crime that had cost Jilly her life. They'd pull out his history as an Olympian, his fall from grace. They'd squeeze the story until there was no blood left, but then it wouldn't matter anymore.

The minute Kaz learned the truth about him, as soon as she realized he'd lied to her, if only by omission, the only thing she'd want from Jake would be for him to leave.

*   *   *

Kaz had most of her things packed when Jake finally came up to the room. She raised her head, fighting a powerful need to stand here and just stare at the man as he stepped through the door. Instead, she welcomed him with a smile. “Hey! I thought you got lost.”

“I know. They were busier than I expected. Sorry I took so long.”

He walked over and stood beside her. She had the skinny jeans and dark silk blouse lying together on the bed.

He looked at them for a minute, and said, “We don't need to vacate until two. The people who have this room for the rest of the weekend aren't due in until late tonight, or we'd have to be out earlier, but two should work great. Gives us a few hours to poke around, look for some good settings in town before we check into the B and B in Geyserville and head back out to the vineyard.”

“Two works for me.” She gestured at the clothing. “Well? Does this work?”

“It does.”

“Good. It's my favorite of everything I brought.” She smiled at him, and then she was biting back laughter. She couldn't stop smiling. Felt like laughing her head off. She hadn't been able to stop since meeting Fletcher Arnold this morning, knowing she'd be able to pay her bills for at least a little longer.

“What about lip color?”

“I need to see the jewelry in order to match the lipstick. What about nail polish?”

“Keep your nails the way they are. If you used polish, you'd have to add fake nails.”

“Ya think?” She glanced at her short nails with their clear polish and just shook her head. “It's funny that I ended up as a model. Makeup and all that girly-girl stuff just isn't me. Jilly got all the family girly genes. She loved the glam.”

Jake turned and frowned. “How did you end up modeling?”

She almost snorted. “I was a horrible waitress. I couldn't find a job in banking, which is what my father was pushing, but I didn't try very hard. Marty and Tim were friends in college. They dared me to apply, and I got hired. I've been lucky. I've got a look that's popular right now, the money's been steady, and pretty good. It's almost worth having to wear makeup.”

“You don't wear much.”

She shook her head. “Not if I can avoid it. Only what the shoot requires.”

“I guess you're lucky you don't need it.” He grabbed a box off the bed. “See what you can do with these.”

He opened a black box to show her the jewelry. She'd seen them before, and of all the jewelry Jake had brought, this set called to her. It was absolutely beautiful. The necklace was more of a collar, a beautiful band of gold and rubies that would be perfect above the wide neck of her blouse, but the earrings were exquisite. Three dark red rubies hung from fine gold chains in gradually longer lengths, all attached to ruby studs for each ear. Three more chains ran from one of the earrings to a single small ruby set in gold, designed for facial placement, whether cheek or lip or, like Kaz, for her nostril.

Put all together, it was a beautiful set but, unlike the diamonds, perfect for daytime wear.

“Those are absolutely gorgeous. Such a deep, dark red.”

Jake laughed. “They're called pigeon's blood rubies. The color is darker than the traditional brilliant red. Makes them more valuable.”

She wrinkled her nose and frowned at him. “Well, that's gross. And I'd rather not know what the set's worth. It might make me too nervous to wear them.” She couldn't stop staring. “These really are beautiful, not fragile looking at all.” She glanced at Jake. “It's jewelry with a sense of power, in spite of how fine the chains are. Makes me want to meet your friend Marc. I'm curious about a man who can design something like these.”

She grabbed the box and the brown silk shirt and went into the bathroom. The shirt went on first, and then she slipped the earrings into place and looped the gold chains across her cheek when she added the stud for her nose.

The effect was not only stunning, it was sexy as hell. The way the chains sort of rolled across her cheek when she moved had a truly sensual effect. Tilting her head one way and then the other, she decided this was definitely her favorite of all the pieces she'd modeled.

She'd washed her face and added a translucent moisturizer before Jake got back, and now she found a perfect lipstick match in her makeup case and carefully painted her lips.

She glanced at the lipstick wand and shivered. The color was called ruby midnight. That sounded better than pigeon's blood, thank goodness, especially since it went on her mouth.

Her hair was its usual tousled mess—she ran a brush through it, fluffed her bangs, and walked back into the room. She'd picked a pair of super-tight black skinny jeans and dark bronze flats that almost matched the blouse. It was a good look.

Jake stood by the window, gazing out over the plaza, hands crossed over his chest, head tilted as if he watched something or maybe someone.

She watched him just as intently for only a moment, but somehow it felt important, as if she might be holding on to this view of him—turned away from her, his long, tall frame and dark hair, the broad shoulders and lean hips an image of strength.

Except, strength wasn't what she thought of, seeing him this way. What filled her mind was how lonely he looked. How utterly and completely alone.

*   *   *

“What do you think?”

Jake forced himself to look away from the man on the corner. He'd been wishing the guy would turn around so he could get a look at the guy's face, but Kaz's soft question was enough to pull him away from the window. When he turned, he actually caught his breath. She was beautiful. Absolutely amazing. “Come here, in the light. Lord, Kaz…” He cupped her chin, turned her to the sunlight streaming in through the open window.

The brilliant shaft of light added fire to the dark rubies. The gold glistened against her honey-toned skin, and the shimmering silk truly was the same color as her hair. “Hold that, okay?”

She merely smiled. Jake grabbed his camera off the bed, switched out the lens with long practiced ease, and went back to Kaz and a sunbeam that was apparently intent on turning him into a slavering idiot.

He didn't need grapevines and wildflowers. All he really needed was Kaz. She was the flawless canvas Marc's beautiful designs deserved. He snapped a few shots, tweaked his settings a bit, and took more. No need for a flash—the golden light shining through the window couldn't have been better. She'd matched the lipstick perfectly to the dark rubies.

Pigeon's blood.
He almost laughed. Damn, he hoped that wasn't the name of her lipstick, but then she tilted her head and smiled, and it was quite literally a punch to the gut. If he caught that look, he'd have the money shot, though how could he possibly limit himself to one?

After a couple of minutes, the sun had moved just enough to lose the focused spotlight effect. Jake lowered the camera and gazed at Kaz, at the questioning smile in her eyes, at the quiet joy in her smile, and he had to shake himself, remind himself that it was all in the look, that her smiles weren't for him, they were for the camera.

“I think I got some good ones,” he said. He turned away to pack up the gear he wanted to take when they wandered through the tasting rooms and shops. Kaz's hand on his forearm stopped him.

“What were you looking at?” she asked.

“What?” He turned and she was gazing out of the window, frowning.

“Nothing. Why?” He walked over to stand beside her. Stared at the corner he'd been watching earlier.

“There was a guy down there, in front of the store where you bought the scarf. I swear he was staring right at me while you were taking your pictures.”

Crap. He really didn't want to hear that, but he didn't want to upset Kaz, either. “The guy in the gray shirt? I didn't see his face. Looked like he was waiting for someone. He probably glanced this way, saw a beautiful woman posing in front of an open window, and just stopped to watch.”

She turned again and took a quick look at the plaza, then down the main street in both directions. “I dunno, Jake. I might sound totally paranoid, but I could swear it was the same guy who almost hit us the other night. Looked just like him.”

Jake looked out the window, made a point of checking out the plaza, watching sidewalks in both directions along the main street. He didn't want to tell her he'd thought the same thing. Wondered if he'd seen the same guy. “What was he wearing?”

“Dark pants. Light blue or gray shirt. Dark hair, probably in his forties or fifties. Looked too grungy to be a tourist, really. He was alone.”

“Let's go down. We're going to be around the plaza; we can watch for him. I think I'd recognize him if I saw him.” And he'd definitely be looking for the guy.

“Okay.” She rubbed her hands over her arms and then laughed. “I sound like a real freak, don't I?”

“Not at all. What happened was pretty scary. The fact that, after he almost hit us, he stopped and glared at us like we were at fault … now that was freaky.”

Not nearly as freaky as the texts. No way in hell was he saying anything about the texts.

*   *   *

They went to three different tasting rooms around the plaza while Jake took what felt like hundreds of pictures. Everywhere they stopped, women asked Kaz about her jewelry, and she easily told them what she knew about the designer and the designs. Jake teased her about taping the conversations for Marc, told her Marc might start thinking in terms of film commercials for the company once he heard the sales pitch she was giving.

“You keep that up, I'll have to put Marc in touch with Fletcher,” he said.

Even though he laughed when he said it, Kaz wondered if he might be serious.

Finally, Jake packed his cameras away and they wandered through a couple of wonderful, trendy little dress shops, playing tourist. Kaz had finally begun to relax when she realized the guy she'd thought was watching her was nowhere to be seen. He'd made her nervous. It was just creepy, as if he'd expected her to show up in that window, like he'd been waiting for her, but then she'd always had an active imagination.

It was almost time to head back to the hotel and check out of their room when Jake dragged her into one final store. “This is the last one. I promise.”