Playing It Close (22 page)

“I’d be more than happy to give you a generous donation, but I’ve never stripped for charity before and I don’t intend to start now.”

“You don’t have to strip.”

She laughed and gestured toward the model posing with Matt Ogden on the beach. The woman had her breasts plastered flat against his chest as he held her close with one arm wrapped around her back and the other gripping a rugby ball beneath her bum. “Right. I don’t need to strip because you often find women in business suits in the jungle.”

“Okay, so you wouldn’t be in your suit. But you wouldn’t be naked, either. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

She shot him a disbelieving look.

“I wouldn’t.” His voice dropped a notch past seductive. “Not in front of other people, anyway.”

She suppressed the shivers that wanted to rack her body, but just barely. Time to be honest with him because that was probably the only way to explain why she couldn’t do what he was asking. “Look, Liam, you might not know this, but all year I’ve had my dignity stripped away—no pun intended. Hell, make that the last seven years. Layer after layer. I’m just now getting it back.”

Venezuela had been the first step in that direction. Come to think of it, stripping off with him had been the biggest step, but admitting that wouldn’t help her cause now.

His face fell, his eyes closing momentarily as if her words made him feel like hell. “I’m really sorry to hear that. Truly sorry. I’m not here trying to be one more person who takes away your dignity. If you say no, I’ll take that as your final answer. Let me just say this. No one has to know that it’s you. The whole point is that your face will be cut out. Your name doesn’t have to appear anywhere. I’ll tell everyone else to go away, and you can pose with just me. Andre and his assistant will be the only ones in the room. It’ll take fifteen minutes, and you’ll be doing something to help make life a little better for other women who’re struggling to hold on to their dignity. Think about it at least. Please.”

She closed her eyes to block him out. She’d been completely incapable of saying no to him in Venezuela. The main reason she’d left in the middle of the night without waking him was because she’d been in danger of shirking her legal responsibilities for a few more hours in his arms. Shit. Shit shit
shit
.

“Right! All finished with you, Mr. Ogden. Who’s my next victim?” Andre cradled his camera over his gut and glanced expectantly between them.

Standing on his own in a Tarzan costume next to the jungle, Ash called out, “What do you say, Tess? Will you be my Jane?”

Liam bristled beside her. A year ago, she would’ve passed out at the thought of the great Ash Trenton asking to be photographed with her, but now there was no question whose arms she wanted to be caught up in.

Before she could crush Ash’s dreams—or, more likely, make him feel relieved that she wouldn’t take him up on his polite offer—Andre cleared his throat and took a couple of scraps of leopard-print fabric from his assistant. “We, uh...we brought a costume, but it was custom made for someone with—” he eyed her flat chest with a grimace, “—different proportions. I’m afraid we’d have to do a lot of pinning and padding for it to hold up.”

Brilliant. Just what she needed today. Add that to the near-death cycling experience then having a whole rugby team watch her struggle to cover her bits. Now a reminder that those bits were nothing to get worked up about. “I’m not doing this,” she muttered to Liam.

He squeezed her arm. “Not with Trenton, you’re not. Mate,” he said to Ash, “you pose with...uh...”

“Lucy,” the model said.

“You pose with Lucy. Tess and I will go last.”

“With what costume?” Tess asked.

He nudged her arm so she would face him. Sliding his hand up to her shoulder, he hooked his thumb under the neckline of her shirt and jacket, pulling it aside to expose her bra strap. “You’re wearing a bra and, I assume, pants?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect.”

She raised a disbelieving brow. “You want me to be photographed in my bra and pants?”

His wicked grin made her belly clench, liquid heat spreading through her lower body. “More than you could know.”

She capitulated with a sigh. “Why would a woman wear her underwear in a waterfall?”

“You’re right. Much more likely she’d be naked. Fully naked. Jaybird naked. But our website’s family friendly, so even if you beg me I’ll have to insist you stay covered.”

Andre took a few steps closer. “Yes, the bra and pants idea has merit. At least we know they fit. And it won’t be too difficult for us to make them look like a bathing cozzie. So you’ll do it?”

Flippin’ heck. Liam’s bare naked chest and tight shorts didn’t leave her much in the way of brain cells for decision-making. She wished she could say she was doing this for charitable reasons, but the heat he transferred from his hand to her shoulder made her temperature rise to the point where it destroyed her sense of self-preservation. She was the proverbial frog, jumping into a nice warm pot of water and never noticing she was in trouble until it cranked up to a full boil.

“I’ll do it. For the women.” What a load of bollocks. Self-loathing ate at her when Liam squeezed her shoulder and dropped his hand.

“Excellent. Andre, why don’t you take your snaps of Ash and Lucy? I’ll go see if the changing room’s empty yet so Tess can get changed.”

He strode away before she could tell him not to bother. After all, if everyone was going to see her in her bra and pants, who cared where she took her suit off?

Before Andre could get back to work though, Tess whispered, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What else can you fix in editing?”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

She had one specific question but didn’t want to come right out with it. “Could you, for example, make me a blonde?”

He hesitated. “I could, but I don’t think that would suit your skin coloring. Besides, Lucy’s a blonde, so it works better that you’re a brunette.”

“Mmm-hmm. And what about...increasing the size of some of my attributes?”

His brows shot up. “Would you want me to do that?”

“I’m not necessarily saying that a bustier version of me needs to make it into the final version. But it might be interesting to see myself as, say, a C-cup?”

He chuckled. “Considering the size of your frame, a C-cup would be a bit drastic, I think. You’d look like a porn star. But I could make you a good round B-cup, if you like.”

She stuck out her hand and they shook on it. “Done. Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. I’ll send you the photos as soon as I have them.”

* * *

This was, quite probably, the worst idea he’d ever had.

All right, it wasn’t originally his idea anyway. Why the hell had he agreed to it?

Because you wanted her in your arms again
,
mate
,
and you saw your opportunity.

Unfortunately, that meant he was now in old-fashioned skin-tight swim trunks, standing in a pool of water that was a poor substitute for their private waterfall, waiting for Tess to come out of the changing room wearing hardly anything so he could pretend to make love with her while a photographer snapped photos.

He hoped to hell Andre could edit out erections.

Everyone else had left, so only Andre, his assistant Anna and Liam waited for Tess. Andre fiddled with his camera, Anna checked lighting for the millionth time, and Liam struggled to come up with a game plan for coping with the burst of lust he knew would hit as soon as he saw Tess again.

Remember when your collarbone snapped?
Or the time you dislocated your elbow?
That hurt like fuck.
Think about that.

He was mentally transferring the pain from his groin to his elbow when his phone beeped from the kit bag he’d stashed against the wall. Since it might take Tess a couple minutes to undress, he jogged over to the bag and took his phone out. The screen showed a text from Samantha:
What R u wearing?

Damn. He glanced down at himself. She wouldn’t believe it if he told her. Not that he planned to tell her, anyway. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again. When he dropped her at the hotel, he’d apologized for giving her such a rubbish evening. She’d invited him up, but he’d turned her down. She’d pursed her lips, flared her nostrils and slammed his car door as she left. They hadn’t had any contact since.

What should he do now? Respond with a brush-off? Ignore her text? He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with her.

Sorry
,
Sam.
Busy.

His phone stayed silent for at least a minute, and relief settled across his tense shoulders. The changing room door clicked open behind him, so he stashed his phone and turned to face his fate.

Tess walked out with a towel wrapped around herself. Light blue bra straps emerged from the top of the towel. He focused on his breathing, keeping it deep and even. Would her bra be that sheer fabric that made a woman’s skin look shimmery but didn’t hide a thing? God, he hoped not. He loved that fabric, and he was battling an erection as it was.

She approached the pool, exhaled deeply and asked Andre, “Ready?”

“Just about.” He adjusted one more thing on his lens, took a few snaps of the empty waterfall, checked them and said, “Ready.”

“Let’s get this over with.” Tess dropped her towel, stepped into the paddle pool and strode toward the waterfall as if she was determined to kick its arse...giving him a fantastic view of
her
arse as she passed him.

“Huh,” Andre muttered. “This is a lot better than I thought it would be.”

Liam shot him a glare, and the photographer wisely refocused his attention on his lens.

Jesus, he was an idiot for talking her into this. The flex and sway of her athletic bum cheeks as she pushed through the water made blood rush to his cock. He couldn’t tell about her bra from behind, but her panties were lace. Light blue lace, cut like a little boy’s underwear except they rode high on her cheeks, not quite covering them. What a thing to hide under a suit. If he’d had any idea women did that, he’d have gone into business instead of rugby.

She turned around before she was close enough to the waterfall to get wet. “Well? Where do you want me?”

Anywhere.
Everywhere.
Wherever you’ll let me take you
,
that’s where I want you.

Dislocated elbow.
Hurt like fuck.
He shook his head clear.

“Mr. Callaghan, would you sweep her passionately into your arms? I want her hair to stay dry, so make sure you don’t get her too wet.”

A blush spread across Tess’s chest, and Liam grinned. Thank God he wasn’t the only one suffering here. Now that she’d turned, he could see her bra wasn’t sheer. It wasn’t even lace, except for the straps that stretched across her ribs. It was well padded, pushing her breasts up and together like an offering for his lips. When he reached her, he wrapped his arm around her waist, yanking her against him until she gasped.

“Passionate enough for you?” he asked Andre.

“Mmm...you’re a wild man. Wild! Play with her hair. That’s right. Run your fingers through it as she tips her head back. Yes! Look at her just like that. Like she’s the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen and you want to eat her alive.”

Fucking hell, he’d thought he’d managed to hide that look from his face. With Tess’s compact body pressed against him from hips to toes, her back arched to thrust her gorgeous little breasts toward him and her head cradled in his hand, he went from semi—to fully interested in four seconds flat. Her eyes widened a little. Obviously it wasn’t something he could hide from her.

Then her eyes narrowed. She ran her hands up his biceps, squeezing his shoulders before looping her arms around his neck. Wriggling her hips just enough to rub against his erection, she gave him a satisfied smile when he bit back a groan.

“I think you might’ve been injured in your last match, Liam,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm. You’re swollen.” She arched further back as if to shake her hair out, but the move was clearly orchestrated so she could tip her hips, sliding the smooth skin of her lower belly against his aching cock.

Two could play this game. He pulled her upper body flush against his so he could nibble her neck. She shuddered, tilting her head as her fingers grabbed hold of his hair and tugged.

“What’re we doing here, Liam?” she murmured in his ear.

“I don’t know about you, Chambers, but I’m raising money for a very important charity.”

“Mmm...me too.”

“You’re so selfless.”

“So are you. It’s one of the things I remember most about you. You’re such a...giver.” She released the last word on a moan as his hand cupped the bare lower curve of her arse cheek and pulled her in tighter.

“Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“I could easily forget there’s a photographer taking pictures.”

She stiffened in his arms. “Oh. Right.”

Giving her bottom a pat, he said, “But he’ll be leaving soon, and we need to talk, my little nymph.”

But the steel had returned to her spine, and no amount of coaxing from Andre could get her to relax again.

“Well,” the photographer said, “I think I got what I needed.”

Tess pulled out of Liam’s embrace, leaving him disappointed that whatever spell she’d briefly been under had disappeared. She stepped away but stopped when he touched her arm. “Tess...”

“I need to get dressed and get back to work, Liam.”

“Just tell me one thing. Why did you agree to do this?”

She cocked a brow and subjected him to a slow up-and-down that must’ve told her his interest hadn’t faded. It wouldn’t until she was dressed and out of his sight. Maybe not even then.

She cleared her throat. “Because I had to. It’s my job.”

She was stepping out of the pool before he recognized the words he’d carelessly thrown at her last weekend. A slow smile stretched his lips. When he’d said that, he’d been just as full of bullshit as she was now.