She clicked off the hair dryer. There was just one thing she had to know. "Did Petra try anything with you?"
Julian hesitated, delaying the answer while he flipped sides. If he doesn't tell the truth here, Mia thought, it would be a sign.
He rubbed his chin, unthinkingly smearing the paint around. "She claimed that we were making the outing on a professional basis. Her regular escort was out of town."
"Uh-huh."
"But I've never had a colleague who talked business with her tongue stuck in my ear."
Jealousy gnawed away the last of Mia's sleepiness. Every nerve ending in her body awoke with a snap. "Hey! That's my job."
"Even though we were on temporary hold?"
"The operative word being temporary."
"Don't worry. I set Petra straight. From now on, no one sticks their tongue in my ear except Mia Kerrigan."
"Gee, I feel so special," she said, but the funny thing was that she really did. Agreeing to be Petra's escort had been incredibly dense of Julian since he didn't know about Nikki's reasoning, but he'd also been well-intentioned. And the fact that he'd actually taken his baby sister's advice told Mia a lot about how far he'd come, even if he didn't realize it.
As did his unexpected patience with lying nude on her table, scarcely moving a muscle while she worked him over with a loaded airbrush. He was completely at her mercy, in a way, and there hadn't been a peep of protest.
"I'm afraid you'll have to get used to being photographed with me," he said. "Can you manage? I realize that you don't relish the publicity any more than I do. Eventually, another pop star or football player will be arrested for something despicable and the media will move on to fresh kill."
Contemplatively, Mia shaded in a long swath of orangey-brown over his flank, giving the muscle even more definition. "Logically, I know that the only way I'll ever please my parents is if I compromise. Compromise can be good. But it can also mean selling out."
"I know you're also worried about my expectations, but I'll never ask you to compromise what's important to you."
"We all compromise," she said softly. Her brush dabbed along his inner thigh and he shifted a little. "I've already done it, by turning body painting into a career. Advertising work, especially, can be one compromise after the other. But then there are the times that I get to be free. Like when I did the peach. That was a true work of art."
Julian closed his eyes and moaned. "The peach." After a moment of reverie, he opened an eye and peered at her, poised over him with her derriere stuck in the air. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about the peach."
She glanced at his burgeoning thong. "Good idea."
"Back to compromises…"
"Yes. Those. Umm … right. What I've realized is that I won't ever again be the perfect little girl in Sunday school class, and certainly not the perfect little wife and mother in the front pew, but maybe someday, now that I've found you, I might come close enough that I can go to visit my parents and be accepted for who I am."
"Meaning?"
She blushed, not ready to admit that she was thinking about marriage and motherhood. She and Julian had to be a couple before they could be a family. "Let's wait and see on that, okay? I haven't decided to forgive you about Petra yet."
He nudged her with his foot. "Yes, you have."
"You don't know how stubborn I can be. I hold a mean grudge."
"Not on your life."
She sighed. He'd found her out. She tried to be cynical, but inside she was just one big ball of mush. Of course, it was very likely that everyone knew that—look at her friends, every one of them aware of what an easy touch she was. But romantic feelings were different. Those were reserved only for Julian, who'd helped her to see that falling in love was just the start of actually being in love. And staying that way.
She'd come a long way from the woman who'd craved a mere taste of Bachelor Seventeen. Now she wanted all of him. To be filled forever.
They fell silent. She continued painting, still working on the background shading before she could start on the leopard's spots. After a while she checked the clock. A few more hours until she had to be at the exhibition hall. She'd hoped to get some sleep, but there was so much to do. At least she was wide awake now.
Her gaze traveled up and down Julian's supine body. He was totally at ease, except for…
"Hmm." Her paintbrush hovered above the bulging thong. A ridiculous garment. Not many men could pull the look off, and here she was, asking Julian to appear before a crowd in nothing but paint and a swatch of matching fabric. It was possible that he'd hoped she'd turn down his offer to model. She'd thought about it, especially after he'd proved his mettle with the waxing and the stripping and the submitting to her every direction. But if she let him off the hook now, she'd never know if he'd really have gone all the way for her.
She'd been using a light shade on his chest and stomach to simulate a leopard's snowy chest. There was nowhere else left to go, so she feathered the edges along his hip bones, blending them into the tawny undercoat.
Finally, her brush stopped.
Julian's head was raised, watching her.
She coughed. "This has never happened before," she said, trying to keep a professional tone and failing abysmally. She could not avoid his erection any longer. He'd stretched the thong to the breaking point. The head of his penis stuck out over the top, swollen and ready, welling with one glistening droplet that seemed to beckon her.
"Really?" he said.
"Well, no. Come to think of it, a few of the male models have become a little excited. But this is the first time that I … you know, cared!" She licked her lips, the heat that kindled between her thighs telling her that she cared much too much. She was supposed to be exhausted, not aroused.
"What can we do?" Julian asked. "Paint around it?"
"Kind of distracting."
He lifted a hand, but she told him no. "You'll smudge the paint if you move too soon."
He grinned wickedly. "There's bound to be a mess one way or the other."
She took a deep breath, then set her brush aside.
"Spread your legs. Scooch down a little. Try not to drag your butt."
"Wha-at—" His voice cracked and broke off entirely when she stood at the end of the table, reached past his thighs and slid her fingertips under the thong. Carefully she worked the pouch lower, allowing his erection to spring free. A strange sight, considering how the rest of his body was painted golden brown.
She stroked him between her palms. His eyes were wide, depthless black, except for the rim of white showing all around. "Wait," he said. "Let me—"
"No. Every other inch of your skin is painted. I have to leave it until it dries. This is the only part of your body that I can touch."
His chest heaved for breath, sucking a hollow beneath his ribs. "Mia…"
"Lie back and enjoy it. There's nothing else you can do." She put her elbows on the table between his thighs and leaned forward, avoiding contact with his painted skin. Her tongue licked across her lips, wetting them. Her mouth opened.
At the last second, she stopped and looked up at Julian, narrowing her eyes to a menacing stare. "If you ever tell anyone I did this…"
"Never," he said, and then stiffened and jerked as if he'd been shocked by electricity when she lowered her head and swallowed him whole.
Like her brother, Nikki had the best of intentions. She always did. All she'd wanted to do was fix the mess that she'd had a hand in creating. It wasn't her fault that no one had bothered to keep her informed of the developments regarding Mia's jungle tableau. If she'd had any idea that Julian was about to appear stark-screaming naked in front of the world, she wouldn't have invited Petra over to see the unveiling.
The expo center was bustling with an enormous crowd visiting the wide variety of vendors and exhibits, set up in booths arranged at the outer edges of the vast hall. At the center was a stage of raised exhibit areas, each one partitioned off from the other, with curta
ined dressing rooms behind. A number of the more elaborate displays were already in place. Strange creatures populated each tableaux, frozen in posed positions for the inspection of the audience. Each appeared to be wearing a skin-tight body suit at first glance. It was only on second or third that the viewer realized…
"These people are nude," Petra said distastefully. She stared at a muscle-bound man in a telephone booth, painted red and blue with a large 5 on his chest. His supersized package was on prominent display.
"Of course they are," Nikki said, although she was agog herself. "What did you expect?"
"A bit more class, but I don't know why." Petra shook her head. "Where's the Hard Candy booth? This place is bedlam."
"We're down at the other end of the hall, but let's find Mia's space first." Nikki checked her watch. Her plan was for Petra to see firsthand that Julian was accepting—even proud—of Mia's work. Then Petra would know that her attempt to embarrass Mia through the press hadn't worked. Subtle maneuvering had been a waste of time. Sometimes you had to go the pie-in-face routine.
"I can't believe that Julian would lower himself to be involved in this—this—" Petra waved as a large man painted with chain mail and armor walked past as if he were strolling through Central Park.
"It's an art form," Nikki said, disgusted. Petra's aim seemed to be to elevate herself and put down Mia at every opportunity. If this was only about the rivalry for Julian, Petra had already lost and she would soon know it.
Petra snorted. "Sure it is."
"I'm surprised you don't appreciate the creativity, especially since you'll be featuring Mia's work in that layout and all."
"That wasn't my choice," Petra muttered.
Nikki had been scanning the crowd. She spotted Mia's buddy Cress heading toward the center booths with his arms wrapped around a giant potted palm.
Ready or not, here we come.
"Let's head this way." She led Petra into the surging traffic as the spectators began to congregate at the middle of the hall. A small knot of people with clipboards and sashes were making their way from one display to the next. "Looks like the judging has begun. Maybe we can get a glimpse of Mia's entry."
Petra tilted her chin high. "Is Julian here?"
"He should be."
A covetous gleam appeared in the blonde's eyes. "I suspect that seeing Mia in this milieu will give him a new perspective." Petra pulled in her shoulders to avoid contact with a woman painted in S&M style. "So … unconventional. Julian can't possibly enjoy this type of crowd."
"Actually, he's probably helping out behind the scenes." Nikki smiled wickedly, unable to resist needling Petra. "He's devoted to Mia, you know. Would do anything for her."
Petra frowned. "I'm sure there are limits."
"We'll see about that." Nikki had no idea how right she was.
Cress dumped the final potted palm on the stage and levered himself up. Mia came out from behind the curtain and helped him slide it into place behind a fake boulder and a waist-high swatch of ornamental grass. "That's it," he said, dusting off his hands. "Call the models into place. The judges are only a couple of spaces away."
Mia took a rag out of the front pocket of her overalls and rubbed at the streaks of paint on her face. She'd been in overdrive since early that morning, what with finishing Julian's spots, grabbing a catnap, carting all her gear to the expo center while trying to maintain her cool for Julian's sake and then putting in several more hours of work on details and smudge repair.
She was so jittery that she no longer cared about winning. She just wanted it to be over, to finally know that Julian had forgiven her for putting him through this. He'd been quiet in the cab on the way over, swathed in a protective covering under his regular clothing and a droopy old raincoat. He'd worn a hood and sunglasses to disguise his identity, and she'd experienced more than a few pangs of regret. Despite his status as a most eligible bachelor, he was a private person. It was very possible that she'd asked too much of him.
"I'll get them," Cress said, giving her a pat when she was too stricken to move.
She looked out over the crowd. Most of the attention was focused on the judges, who were studying a staging area nearby. She had maybe ten minutes to get the models into position. Ten minutes before Julian exposed himself, just for her.
He won't be recognized. She'd applied an elaborate face makeup—coal-rimmed eyes, feline nose, special contouring around the mouth so he seemed to have a muzzle and whiskers. A person would have had to look very closely to distinguish any of the models' features.
"Hi, Mia!" A voice carried from the crowd of spectators.
Mia tried to focus her bleary eyes. Nikki. With a friend. No, not a friend. Petra Lombardi.
Smiling grimly, Mia returned Nikki's wave. Why had Julian's sister brought Petra over? There was no telling what the woman might do if she realized that Julian was taking part in Mia's tableau.
Mia decided that she had to warn Julian, but Cress was herding the models out from behind the curtain and suddenly there was no room to maneuver on their small square of stage.
Angelika took the prime position, bending over with her hands placed on one of the fake rocks so that she appeared to be on all fours. She cocked one leg and lifted her head high, assuming her zebra pose. Her dark hair had been sprayed and teased to make a stiff fringe down the middle of her head, a modified Mohawk that gave the effect of a zebra's mane.
Leslie took the right side, poised like a gazelle frozen in midflight. Behind her, squatting on a platform Cress had hidden behind the greenery, Fred the lemur struck his pose, one monkeylike arm raised to curl around the branch of a tree.
The crowd had grown as the judges approached. There was a buzz even before Julian stepped out from behind the curtain. His eyes connected with Mia's and he must have mistaken her panic for stage fright, because he gave her a quick smile and a nod before dropping down onto all fours. She'd worked on his stance earlier, and after he'd overcome the self-consciousness, he'd made an excellent leopard.
For a moment, she was frozen, watching as he elongated his body in a feline stretch, every muscle long and lean, his back curved, his shoulders bunched. There was something so primal and sexy about him that even without the spotted makeup he was pure animal.
She looked over the tableau, complete except for the drawn-back curtain, where Cress was motioning to her to join him. The scene was better than she'd imagined it and she was tempted to slip away with Cress, certain that she had an excellent chance of winning.
But at what cost to Julian?
Mia whirled to face the crowd. Yes, Petra was still there with Nikki, who'd been joined by an animated Very, whispering frantically in her sister's ear.
Even worse, several photographers had gathered around, getting ready to shoot the scene. Suddenly, Petra appeared among them, sleek and cool, studying Mia's setup with intense interest. Her eyes widened and she grabbed a photographer by the arm, pushing him off to the side where Julian was positioned, gesturing at the stage while she issued commands.
Had she recognized Julian?
Mia knew that she had to make her move, and fast. The judges had finished marking their scorecards at the adjacent exhibit and were on the way. She turned to reach for Julian, blocking him from the crowd as she urged him up to his feet.
"Mia!" he said. "What are you doing?"
"Don't argue. Just come with me." She shoved hard to get him moving, both of them lunging through the jungle greenery that Cress had arranged with such care. An exotic bird of paradise plant tipped over, but she wasn't about to stop to right it.
Cress yanked the curtain closed behind them. "You just cost yourself the top prize."
"I don't give a damn about winning the gold medal." Mia was panting as if she'd run a race. She kept her hands on Julian's shoulders, scared that he might try to rejoin the models. "Stay here, okay? Trust me. You don't want to be out there."
He was baffled. "Mia—why…?"
"I just, uh, decide
d that you weren't that necessary to the scene after all."
Behind them, Cress peeped through a narrow crack in the curtains while the judges evaluated their exhibit.
"What's going on?" Julian demanded, trying to catch a glimpse.
Mia squeezed her hands into fists. "All right. If you must know. Petra Lombardi is out there with a photographer. I think he's from Hard Candy. She may have recognized you."
"Petra," he echoed. He took a step back. "Okay, thanks for the warning. But it doesn't matter. I'm still willing to follow through. I promised you I would."
"I know, but I'm pulling the plug, Julian. It's not your choice."
"But—"
"There are other photographers, too. If Petra gives anything away, if they get even a whiff of your identity, it'll be a melee. That just suddenly seemed like too much of a risk. I don't want to see your photo splashed all over the papers, you know? Not like this." She gestured at his spots, then patted his bare chest for reassurance. "It's okay. Really. The prize isn't as important to me as you are. I don't want to be the cause of your embarrassment, or any grief from your board of directors."
After a moment, Julian let out a deep sigh. "I can't say that I'm not relieved."
She bear-hugged him, unmindful of his painted skin. "I'll never forget that you were willing to do this for me. I love you for that, Jules."
He pressed a kiss onto her cheek. "And I love you for getting me out of there, even if that means you lost the prize."
A bolt of pleasure went through her at his words, but she didn't dare pin him down to exact specifics of how and why and in what other ways he loved her. Instead she nuzzled his throat, letting her relief and joy percolate into giddy laughter. "One of us has to have dignity. You know it's not gonna be me."
"Don't forget, you're telling that to a man who's wearing a leopard-print thong."
"No leopard has ever filled one out better." She gave him a squeeze, then left his arms to rummage through her supplies. She found a bottle of nontoxic solvent and tipped it over a cloth. "We'd better get you cleaned up before any of the press realize what I did to Bachelor Seventeen."
TASTE ME Page 20
