Page 18 of Love Me Gently

“Trina. Please, call me Robert. This is all informal, anyway.” He shook my offered hand but held himself back. His rich, blue eyes did a scan of my body, and I fought not to falter in my step or my nerves.

The last thing I needed was my hand trembling in his firm, but professional handshake.

“Lovely,” he said. He grinned, showing off sparkling white teeth. His approval of my appearance loosened tension in my shoulders. “Zane was correct about you.”

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice polite.

I was here to get approval on my looks after all, so the fact he’d inspected me didn’t bother me.

However, he held my hand a bit too long. I tugged, signaling for him to let go, but his smile widened and his grip didn’t falter. “Shall I show you to the room and we can get started? I know Zane mentioned I often photograph after hours, so I’m only allowed a short amount of time.”

“Sure.” I shook my head and corrected myself. “Yes. Thank you, that would be lovely.”Polite Trina. Be polite and professional.

Seeing as he still held my hand, he pulled me forward and then I was next to him. His hand released mine but instead of gesturing for me to follow him, he settled his hand at my lower back.

Warmth hit where he touched, followed by a slight chill.

Did all men touch models and women they photographed?

It wasn’t as if he was crossing a line, but the move felt toofriendly, maybe? Like we hadn’t just met.

Regardless, I didn’t move away, but my posture stayed tight and tall as he guided us down the hallway and to the right. He then led me through an open door, and as soon as we stepped inside, my heart leaped and fluttered.

A photography room. Bright white lights were already set up, standing on top of and in front of a white background. In the center of the area was a gray one-armed chaise lounge. Comfortable, but not too cushy.

I turned to Robert and smiled unable to hide my excitement. “Thank you, again, so much for agreeing to meet with me.”

His eyes seemed to almost dance with the same excitement I had. “I believe the pleasure will prove itself to be all mine. Now, I prefer to have you comfortable before our first shoot, so why don’t you get settled in the chair, and for a few minutes, we’ll just talk, okay?”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t hide my sigh of relief. Spying a small table next to us, I set down my purse and walked to the chair. Once seated, I crossed my ankles and settled my hands in my lap.

Robert went to where there was a stool by the wall, grabbed it, and picked up a camera with his other hand and brought both back so he was sitting in front of me. He sat down on the stool and settled his camera in his lap, the cover over the lens, straps hanging down as if he was in no hurry whatsoever.

“So, tell me about where you grew up,” Robert asked, taking me by surprise. “Zane tells me you’re from the South?”

A smile formed on my cheeks, unable to be helped. It’d been forever since anyone had asked me about home. “Yes,” I said easily, almost breathily. “I’m from a town called Deer Creek, in the mountains in North Carolina.

“What’s it like?”

My gaze shifted, and although I hadn’t expected the personal tone of the questions, he’d wanted me relaxed. Perhaps he was trying to get me talking so I quit thinking so much.

With that realization settled, I told Robert everything about life in Deer Creek. He asked me more questions and I answered, and soon, as I was telling about how my high school backed up to a cornfield, something he found entertaining based on his quiet but sincere laugh. Before long, I realized he’d started taking pictures. Every time I smiled, or every time I was lost in thought about a question of his, the quiet click of the camera registered in my mind. Yet the conversation still naturally flowed, and I knew, every time he checked his camera screen at the back of his camera and grinned and nodded, I was doing well.

Yes. This was what I needed.

I thought we were done when Robert set the camera down on the stool and sauntered up to me. His finger trailed along my cheek but his eyes stayed on mine.

“You are beautiful,” he said. “The photos I’ve taken are wonderful. Some of my best yet.”

I was no longer nervous, or thinking his behavior earlier might have been inappropriate, even as his finger drifted to my jaw, the side of my neck, and over my shoulder.

“Thank you.” I grinned.

“Part of modeling, though Trina, is being comfortable in your skin.”

At his words, his finger on my neck drifted to the edge of my top, tugging lightly on it. My skin warmed from either his touch, or the lights, or perhaps the excitement. I didn’t know, but something new was buzzing beneath my flesh.

“I understand.”

---