by Dara Girard
“I still can’t believe it.” Josh hesitated. “Dad wasn’t really his old self toward the end. You don’t know since—” He stopped midsentence, but that didn’t halt the tension that suddenly settled between them. Ian’s absence and their father’s will were sore subjects Ian didn’t like to discuss. Josh knew that his brother could be a real SOB when he wanted to. Josh gripped his fists, ready for whatever was to come. Meanwhile, Ian scanned the park looking relaxed and did not reply. When he finally did, his voice was laced with venom.
“Don’t ever bring up that subject again.”
Josh swallowed. “Right.”
Ian motioned to something in the distance. “I think I see her.” He spotted a striking woman in white with a big pinwheel hat.
Josh’s heart began to race. “Yes, that’s her.”
“I guess I’d better go over and…” Ian’s words faded away when she turned to look at them. Even from a distance her beauty was mesmerizing. “Maybe I won’t have to.”
“No.” Josh took a step back. “It looks like she’s coming this way.”
Chapter 2
Yes, come to me. Ian watched Mariella, a rush of anticipation gripping him as she came closer. Something seized and paralyzed him and it wasn’t fear, but he refused to give it a name. She moved like a model, not the exaggerated gait of the catwalk, but in a manner that commanded attention. She definitely had his.
Josh took another step back. “She looks furious.”
“Yes, and if you take another step back you won’t have to worry about her.”
Josh halted.
Ian continued to watch her. He’d once witnessed a wildlife special where a lioness devoured a wildebeest. Mariella looked as though she could do worse. She stopped a foot away from him. From a distance she was breathtaking. Up close her exquisite beauty was undeniable. From the curve of her chin to the shape of her figure she was a vision to behold. But the words out of her mouth were anything but. “You’re late,” she said, her clear brown eyes piercing the dark shield of his sunglasses.
Ian rested his hands on his hips. “Ms. Duvall—”
“I don’t have time for your excuses,” she interrupted. “When I say a shoot is at a certain time, I expect you to be there. You’re not even what I expected.” She walked around him as though she were a judge at an animal show. “My God, you’re enormous. You’ll throw the balance off completely. I may have to put the girls on rocks or something. Remove those sunglasses so that I can get a better look at you.”
“Ms. Duvall—”
“I said remove them.” She reached up to do it herself; Ian gripped her wrist before she could.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said quietly.
She pulled her wrist free. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t like people to touch me.”
“You’ll get over it.” She lifted his chin. “You have a wonderful profile.”
Ian heard his brother snicker and frowned. Josh covered his mouth and coughed.
His cough caught Mariella’s attention. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“No,” Josh said. He awkwardly gestured to Ian. “Well, he’s—”
“Your friend no doubt. Perhaps on the drive back you can teach him how to tell time.” She turned to Ian again. “You’ll do. Now go over there.” She pointed to the wardrobe area. There were several freestanding clothes racks with an assortment of designer clothing. “Get into the wool set immediately.”
Josh opened his mouth to protest. “But he’s not—”
She waved a dismissive hand, making it clear that she’d lost interest in them. “That’s it for now.” She turned and stalked off.
Ian stood for a moment with his hands on his hips.
Josh shook his head and watched her go. “I told you she’d be difficult.” He turned to Ian. “I don’t—” he began, then noticed the slight grin on his brother’s face. “You think this is funny?” he asked amazed.
“I think this is hilarious.” He rubbed the smile from his face. “Excuse me.” Ian jogged up to Mariella and darted in front of her with such speed that she crashed into him. She stumbled back, her hat falling to the ground. Ian bent down, quickly retrieved it then held it out to her as a peace offering.
Mariella angrily snatched her hat out of his hand. “What is wrong with you? Why aren’t you in wardrobe? First you arrive twenty minutes late, and now it appears that you can’t follow simple directions.”
“I need to talk to you.”
Mariella placed her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with a heat that could rival the day. “I don’t know what your problem is, who you are, or why you were hired for this shoot. Now, before I lose my temper altogether, if you plan on being paid for this assignment, I suggest you get into your outfit as quickly as you can.” She turned ready to walk away. Ian again positioned himself in front of her.
She narrowed her eyes and said in a low voice, “Move.”
He folded his arms.
She moved to the other side, he blocked her again. She scowled; he smiled.
His hands fell to his waist. “I’ll let you pass when I feel that I’ve gotten my point across.”
“You’ll move now or—”
He lifted a challenging brow. “Or what?”
“I’ll make your life a living hell,” she said in an acid tone.
He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets and took a step forward. “Is that a promise?”
She took a step toward him. “It’s a guarantee.”
He closed the distance between them, their noses nearly touching. “I like guarantees, but know this: Whatever you can dish out, I can do worse.”
Mariella tried to stare past the mirrored shield of his dark glasses. “I bet you’re not so tough without sunglasses.”
“No, I’m meaner.”
Josh cleared his throat, hoping to get their attention. He coughed. When that didn’t work, he caught Gen’s eye and gestured to the pair. Recognizing the situation, Gen quickly rushed over to help.
“Mariella, what’s going on?”
She turned to Gen and jerked a thumb at Ian. “This person has an attitude.” She shot a rude glance at him. “You won’t last long in this industry.”
Gen nervously gripped her clipboard. “Mariella, don’t you know who he is?”
“I don’t care who he is. Gen, take over. I need him in the full wool suit, with the fur-lined hooded jacket. Let’s see how long he can remain cool. And have him report to me in the gazebo in five minutes. Lucky for him, he doesn’t appear to need much makeup. We’ll shoot him as is, I can always touch up the photo later. He’s wasted enough of my—our time.” Mariella adjusted her hat. “Have the models get back into their outfits, and have Damien get them ready. He has exactly four minutes.” Without looking back, Mariella walked off. Ian remained standing, in silence. Gen ran after her.
“Mariella, you’ve made a big mistake.”
“Now what? The only big mistake I see is that I should have selected the male model myself. Where did you find this jerk? I thought you had better taste, Gen. But one thing I can promise you, once this shoot is over, I’m going to make sure that he’s finished in this industry.”
“But that’s Ian Cooper,” Gen said.
She furrowed her brows, finding the name vaguely familiar. “Ian Cooper? I suppose that is supposed to mean something to me?”
“He’s my brother,” Josh said, from behind.
“Jeremiah Cooper’s other son,” Gen added.
“Ian?” Mariella blinked. “Ian Cooper, the new owner of Flash magazine?” Mariella looked over her shoulder at the dark, quiet figure. She softly swore then approached him. “You’re Ian Cooper?”
He nodded.
She coolly measured him, her eyes falling to his feet then rising to his face. “Oh, yes. I see,” she said in a tone that hinted that she wished she hadn’t. “That one. Your father told me a little about you.”
Ian cocked his head to the s
ide. “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the same pleasure.”
“Well, it would be hard to hear things when you’re not around,” she said.
Josh saw his brother’s face change and quickly stepped forward. “Perhaps we’ve come at a bad time.”
Ian didn’t move and neither did Mariella.
Gen looked at Josh helplessly, then saw a tall figure in the distance. “I think the model’s here,” she announced as though her savior had appeared on the horizon.
Mariella turned and saw a handsome young man in worn jeans with a khaki jacket thrown carelessly over his shoulder. “Gen, take care of him. He doesn’t really look the part, but he’ll have to do. I want him ready in three minutes. But first I’ll have a few words.” Mariella looked at Ian one last time to say something then decided against it and left. She approached the young model, her hands waving frantically in the air, her displeasure evident.
Josh gave a low whistle. “Man, I’d hate to be him,” he said a few minutes later as he watched the male model leap into position, posing awkwardly between the three women. Mariella began the shoot with a frenzy, totally oblivious to the audience she had attracted. She was at her best when she was taking pictures and giving orders. Whenever she was on a job, her intensity heightened and so did the fear of those around her. No shoot was ever good enough, and she would take picture after picture, until she felt she had captured what she wanted. And she was especially hard on the male model that had arrived late.
“Have you ever modeled before?” she asked him, not expecting an answer. She positioned him atop the small bridge, with his arm around one model, and the rest of his body angled in a way that looked rather impossible.
He tried not to grimace. “I don’t think I can hold this position for very long,” he responded, but was not given an answer. Instead, Mariella continued directing the females, and ignoring him completely.
“You can actually see him shrinking,” Josh said with sympathy. “If she doesn’t stop soon, she’ll have nothing to photograph.”
“At least he’s here,” Gen said.
When Ian didn’t reply, Josh turned to him. His brother hadn’t moved. Josh shifted awkwardly. “Perhaps we’d better go. We can talk to her another time.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He folded his arms. “What is this photo shoot for again?”
“The upcoming Bretton winter catalog,” Gen said.
“I see.”
“I don’t,” Josh said. “Dad said she was good. But I don’t see why he wants us to give a prime exclusive contract to a woman who does staged catalog photography and layouts for obscure magazines and celebrity portraits.”
“Mariella is an excellent photographer,” Gen said defensively. “She has had top celebrities ask for her specifically to do their portraits. Her work is quickly making its rounds in different venues. Your father knew she would be a top photographer. He saw her talent right away.”
“I’m sorry,” Josh said surprised by her vehemence.
Gen lowered her head, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. It’s just that I don’t like when people are so quick to judge her. She really is a good person and is extremely talented. We’re not just a bunch of dumb ex-models no matter what other people think.”
“I don’t think many people think that anymore,” he said gently. “At least I don’t. I didn’t mean to deny that she had talent. But I do know one thing.”
“What?”
Josh flashed a slow smile. “I can see that she has a good friend.”
“Gen, are you interested in working?” Mariella barked, grasping the camera slung over her shoulder. “You can visit with your friend on your own time.”
Gen touched her earring with nervous fingers. “Yes, well…I’d better get back to work.”
“Yeah,” Josh said wistfully. He watched her go then turned to Ian. “Do you see my problem? She’s devoted to Mariella.”
“Hmm,” Ian said then walked over to a magnolia tree and sat under it. He hadn’t taken his gaze off of Mariella.
Josh sat beside him. “But if you can keep Mariella busy with that new photo assignment, I’ll get my chance.”
“Hmm,” Ian said again. He hadn’t removed his gaze from Mariella. She moved well. She would. Like all models she was a chameleon and could fit into any situation. Today she was every bit the photographer. He could see that. But she captured everything he abhorred: Models, staged settings and staid objects like trees and streams.
He liked action. He couldn’t help it. He was still a photojournalist at heart. If he’d had his camera he wouldn’t be taking pictures of the trees or the models. He’d take a picture of the little man, sweating furiously, wiping his forehead with one hand and blowing his nose into a handkerchief with the other. Or the bleach-blond assistant fanning one of the models dressed in a bulky hand-knit sweater, fitted wool leggings, suede mittens and fur hat; another trying to stave off a bee circling overhead. But mostly he’d photograph the woman at the center of all the action. He had to admit that she was commanding in her role. Mariella left no scene untouched, bending in whatever position was needed to capture a certain angle, barking out orders and drinking a sports drink between commands.
He had to admire her. For all her beauty and grace, she had no problem lying down on the grass, holding a difficult position from a branch of a tree or wading in the small stream. His fingers itched for the first time, in a long time, to hold a camera. He’d given up photography to run the company. When his father had fallen ill and asked him to take over, he knew his duty would be to step in, while his father recuperated.
Jeremiah had fought against the pancreatic cancer. But it wasn’t the cancer that killed him. Ian tapped his knee; he didn’t want to think about it. The wound was still tender, more than he’d allow himself to admit Now he only did photography as a hobby. He hadn’t wanted to photograph someone like this since…He shook his head and softly swore.
“What’s wrong?” Josh asked.
“Nothing,” he lied, adjusting his sunglasses. A sinking feeling slithered through him. He had a bad feeling that he and his father had developed the same taste in women.
Chapter 3
When the shoot was finally over, Mariella wanted to collapse with relief. This feeling fled quickly, however, when she noticed the two figures in the distance. She’d expected them to have left. No, that was wrong, she’d hoped he had left. Josh she could handle, Ian was another issue entirely. She could feel him staring at her. She was used to men staring, but never with such intensity. Never with such brazen determination to make his presence known. She felt like a prisoner in spite of the distance that separated them.
Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps he wasn’t looking at her at all. She couldn’t tell since he still had his sunglasses on. She glanced at them again. No, she was certain he was watching her. She suddenly felt grateful for the sunglasses—they created a nice barrier.
She looked at Josh who was busy trying to swat away a cloud of gnats. Mariella had never seen brothers so dissimilar, but then that’s what people thought when they saw her and her younger sister Isabella. Josh was of a slighter build. Although tall, his build was far from intimidating. He had awkward, yet warm features: an angular nose, nice mouth, ordinary eyes and ears that were a little too large. No one would call him handsome or even attractive, but he didn’t have to be because he was smart, rich and had a famous father.
Ian, on the other hand, was gorgeous. She reluctantly used the term to describe him, but it was accurate. He reminded her of a puma—if a puma were to become a man in jeans and a black T-shirt that fit like a second skin and emphasized a well-sculpted chest. Interestingly, he looked like a man who wore his clothes for comfort rather than vanity. Mariella decided that her first assessment of him was accurate. Although he was not the model for the shoot, he was too large, too arrogant and just too much of everything to be a good model or a good man for that matter. Jeremiah had been a devil. Ian was probably te
n times worse.
For a moment, Mariella wondered what his eyes looked like, but she sensed that being curious about him was dangerous. She brushed the thought aside. His presence was already a nuisance.
Mariella began to gather her things together, ready to leave. The rest of the crew had left thirty minutes earlier; she was the only one there. To her dismay she saw the puma slowly rise and come toward her. He covered the distance quickly and quietly, sending goose bumps up her arms despite the warm day.
“Not bad,” Ian said.
She continued to pack her equipment.
“Some of your angles will be off, you’re not an expert on how to use lighting yet, but no one will look too closely. All that matters are the clothes.”
She zipped up her camera bag. “Everything was perfect.”
“You don’t believe that and neither do I. It’s okay, you were nervous, but hid it well.”
“I wasn’t nervous.”
“Do you miss it?”
She blinked. “Miss what?”
“Modeling.”
“No. I’m a photographer now.”
“Not out of choice.”
“Of course it was a choice. I chose it.”
He shook his head. “Let’s stop playing games. We both know why your career ended.”
“It ended because I decided to end it.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Then I suggest you get your hearing checked.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my ears, but there may be something wrong with your memory.”
“I don’t think so.”
He was quiet a moment. “No, you wouldn’t.” He turned his head to stare at something, but made no movement to leave.
Mariella opened her mouth then closed it. She sighed and folded her arms impatiently. “What do you want?”
He turned to her and smiled. “Thank you for asking. Your consideration will be a great asset when we’re working together.”
“I never said I’d work with you.”
He wagged a finger and shook his head. “For me, not with me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said nonchalantly.
