“It’s better to see my dress, after all,” she said, giving him what most men might see as a disarming smile. But it only made Nate grow more tense, especially with the way she watched him as he moved away from the camera.
He paused a good three feet away from her and directed her to stand at an angle that would best capture the light. When she was arranged just so, he returned to the camera to change the plate and begin the process of taking another photograph. The time stretched on again, and he found himself hoping she wouldn’t request a third image.
“This is wonderful fun, isn’t it?” she said when Nate indicated she could move again. She retrieved a fan from where it hung at her waist and began to fan herself.
“Indeed,” Nate said noncommittally. The roomwasgrowing warm, but he wasn’t certain whether that was from the temperature outside or Nate’s growing discomfort with Miss Flagler.
“May I have one more image?” she asked, dipping her head to look up at him through her eyelashes.
“Certainly,” Nate forced himself to say. One more, and then it would be over with. Miss Flagler would be gone and he could go back to . . . to what? Thinking of Ruthann? That was something best left alone. Although with Ruthann on his mind, the memories he’d rather not think of felt much further away.
“I thought perhaps I could . . .” Miss Flagler proceeded to turn the settee before draping herself over it in an awkward sort of lounging position.
“Miss Flagler, I don’t think that will . . . The light will cast unflattering shadows,” Nate finally said.
“Oh?” She twisted some and rearranged her skirts before frowning. “I’m not sure what to do. Will you help me?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “Find the right way to sit. Or stand, perhaps?” She held out a hand, and Nate stared at it.
If Miss Flagler thought he was taking her hand, she was sorely mistaken. Instead, he stepped around the camera and assessed the scene in front of him. “It would look best if you sat up straight and angled yourself toward the front of the building.”
“Like this?” Miss Flagler flounced upon the settee and twisted herself sideways.
“Yes, but bring your entire body around.”
“Oh!” She giggled, and tried to pull her legs around to face the same direction. “I believe my skirts are caught.” She looked down at the floor and then up at Nate with the falsest look of helplessness he had ever seen. “Could you help me? Please?”
It was clear this would never end if he left it up to her. Barely keeping his irritation hidden, he strode to the settee where he proceeded to unwrap the hem of her dress from around the piece of furniture’s leg.
“There,” he said as he stood—only to have her grab on to his arm and stand up herself.
“Thank you, Mr. Harper,” she said in a breathless voice as her fingers dug into his arm and she slid closer to him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She tilted her head back and parted her lips—and Nate finally shook off the shock of the moment.
He stepped firmly backward and pried her hand from his arm. “I’m sorry, Miss Flagler. I forgot that I have an appointment, and I must cut our session short. I’ll have your photographs ready tomorrow, if you’d like to return then.”
He barely caught her expression of righteous indignation before turning to collect the plates that needed to be developed.
“Thank you for coming to my studio,” he said stiffly before he retreated to the rear, leaving Miss Flagler red-faced and clearly angry.
A moment later, safe in the darkroom, Nate heard the front door close and he let out a breath of relief. Miss Flagler was just as wily as he’d feared she might be when he first met her. He’d met a forward woman more than once, but never one as well-to-do as Miss Flagler.
Nate shuddered at the thought of the man who fell for her flirtations. He doubted Miss Flagler’s father would be so understanding if he found out. And that certainly wouldn’t end well, particularly if the man was like Nate—far from wealthy.
A man like that would find himself out of business and run out of town.
