Augustine.It probably wasn’t his real name, but I liked it. His haunting eyes were burned into my mind, and I couldn’t let him go. Four months was nothing, and as soon as I landed him in our fashion line, I would throw everything in my arsenal at him until he didn’t want to say no. Maybe he was the happily ever after I’d been searching for desperately.
2
ASA MCGOGH AKA AUGUSTINE HART
“I found red leaves!”
A cheer went up from the three other people scattered around the woodland area where we were doing our outdoor shoot. I shivered because although it was warm for fall, it was slightly cooler than I would’ve liked. This was especially true considering I was running around in the forest without a shirt in a pair of red leather pants, which could double as a second skin—and flip-flops.
Courtney Ryan came charging into the clearing with his camera looped around his neck. He brushed aside goldenrod as he made his way toward me and there was no denying how spectacular this area was as a background. The late afternoon sun cut through the trees and glinted on his short blond hair. A winter coat clung to his muscled shoulders and chest, which had me chuckling because he’d declared it “absolutely freezing!” the second he’d stepped foot off the plane in Vermont.
Of course, he had no qualms about telling me to get half naked.
His two assistants chased after him carrying enough bags that I felt terrible for them.
“I think it’s an oak.” I pointed at the tree and a breeze rustled the leaves, sending a few drifting down around me.
Courtney flashed a smile when he was closer and raised his camera, grabbing an on-the-fly shot, something he apparently liked doing. Dimples popped in his cheeks, and with his toned body he would be attractive except—
“Oh, sweetheart, sexy and resourceful? You should let me marry you.” He winked. “I can’t believe you found them first.” His Australian accent should’ve won him points—because let’s be real, all accents are a little sexy—but he’d been so relentless since he first shook my hand, complimenting everything from my face to my ass in the first five minutes, that I would die screaming in delight if lightning came right out of the sky and fried him on the spot. “You should get a reward for that, don’t you think?” His grin took on more heat, and I could feel him mentally removing my clothes. “I can think of a few.”
Ah yes, you’re a sleazy flirt, aren’t you? Please let time move faster.“Thank you. I’m honored you asked to have me for the Inspiro Rouge shoot. I love the scent, and this experience is its own reward,” I said, keeping my words soft so he wouldn’t hear my annoyance. One of his assistants, a skinny boy with big blue eyes and legs for miles, shot me an apologetic smile.
“What are we going to do with the likes of you? So polite. It’s like you don’t talk to the other stuck-up men at your agency.” Courtney chuckled, and I thought about holding my breath until I passed out to see if maybe he’d leave me here if he thought I was dead, but he gestured at a nearby rock that came up to about my waist. “Hop on there, love. I can give you a hand?”
“On it,” I said, before he could come near me. I kicked off the flip-flops and quickly scrambled to the top of the gray boulder.
“Stop!” he shouted before I could stand, catching me in an odd crouch, and we shot that position for a few minutes while he shouted things like “show me happy!” and “pretend your nana just died! I need real tears!” while walking all around me. The click of the camera was comforting and familiar. I tried to sink into the process and ignore the photographer.
With an internal sigh, I glanced over my shoulder at Courtney when he moved behind me, then groaned mentally at the obvious wood in his pants. I’d been tastefully undressed during photoshoots, and it wasn’t unheard of to see someone get excited, but out here in the middle of nowhere, with only his two pushover assistants as backup, I was uneasy. But what could I do? Again, I ignored him as much as I could.
“Stand up and move out your left leg. Put your hand over your eyes like you’re looking out at the far distance,” he snapped, very much lost in his camera.
I tried to do what he said, but he huffed. “Left leg. Move it out.”
“Uh, could you just show me?” I asked, breaking the pose to glance at him with what I hoped was my best sheepish smile. I had good control of my face and what I let people see, but I was starting to get pissed off with this guy.
I wasn’t prepared when he came over and wrapped one of his hands around my left thigh to position my leg. While he was at it, he reached up and ran his hand along my naked back, nudging me to the right until I resembled an explorer with one leg out in front, and then I put my hand up over my eyes again.
“Perfect,” he nearly purred.
I hadn’t ever had anyone touch me without preparing me for it first, and I didn’t like it. Ignore the asshole, ignore him, then tell McKay you won’t ever fucking work with him again. Just get it over with.After a couple of shots, he came back and ran his hand up my calf to nudge my knee back a few inches.
Fuck, I have to do something about this.I forced a smile and a light chuckle. “You could just tell me how to move. Or show me, and I can imitate you.”
“This is faster. Who’s making the big bucks here, sweet thing, you or me?” He winked. “Now give me ferocious, like a little tiger. I bet you can do that, huh?”
Boy can I ever. Big bucks, my ass. I signed a huge contract that would make you eat your heart out. God, I hope the new client hires better photographers.Courtney touched my knee again, and I moved before he could grope me further.
Both of his assistants looked as if they wanted to sink into the ground with their mortification, and the shorter one—a redhead—mouthed “sorry” at me, as if any of this was his fault.
Courtney stood back and crossed his arms, nearly knocking his assistants over in the process. They scuttled out of his way while he glared at me. “Inspiro Rouge. It’s a woodsy scent. It’s for men’s men.”
“Then why didn’t you get a lumberjack?” I asked, before I could stop myself, but he only laughed.
“Because, you silly thing, women buy these products for their men, nine times out of ten. They don’t want some big hairy guy.”
I shook my head because that was debatable.
