Page 31 of Driving Him Wild

my boots eased apart and ready to be tugged on. ‘Am I going to miss it? How long does it usually

last?’

The moment I stood he eased the blanket over my shoulders. ‘Each one is different. If we’re lucky,

it’ll last for a good while.’

He held open the tent flap for me. And I stepped out into the most spectacular sight.

Against a black velvet sky pierced with brilliant stars, breathtaking swathes of coloured light

swirled and danced. Greens, blues, purples and yellows, they looked close enough to touch.

‘Oh, my sweet Lord.’ The cold Arctic slap of wind forgotten, I stared, my breath held at the

wondrous sight. ‘It’s...indescribable.’

‘Ja,’he concurred, his tone a little gruff. ‘No matter how many times I see one, it still takes my breath away. Each one is unique enough to make me feel like I’m seeing it for the first time.’

I could believe that. ‘How many times have you experienced this?’

I sensed more than saw his shrug. ‘Not as often as I’d like.’ There was a wistfulness to his tone that almost distracted me from the sight.

Almost.

The beauty displayed above me was too powerful, too sacred to take my eyes off it.

So I watched, even as I sensed Jensen’s subtle movements around me. Even as I heard the soft,

shuttered clicks of his camera, circling. Stopping. Circling some more.

It was only as the spectacular display started to fade several minutes later that I paid attention to what Jensen was doing.

His camera was going off a mile a minute, his movements near balletic as he leaned in, then leaned

back, dropped a few inches, then rotated the camera while adjusting the lens. There was something

deeply hypnotic and breathtakingly beautiful about watching him at work, which was why it took

several seconds before, alarmed, I realised that I was the focus of his attention, and not the

spectacular display electrifying the sky around us.

Years of being photographed without my permission had engendered a hatred of having cameras

trained on me, triggering a knee-jerk response. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of selling pictures of me to make a quick buck.’

He froze, then slowly lowered his camera as he rose from a deep crouch. In the pool of light from

the lantern he’d brought with us, I watched shock and fury chase across his face.

‘I get by well enough on my own hard work without the need to peddle images of celebrities,

princess. I leave that kind of asshole move to pond scum who aren’t familiar with concepts like

respect, privacy and basic human decency.’

The bite in his voice rivalled the Arctic wind sweeping against my skin.

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