Unshuttered
Philippa Grey-Gerou
and
Emery Sanborne
Copyright
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.
UNSHUTTERED
28 Days of Heart Series
Copyright © 2010 PHILIPPA GREY-GEROU AND EMERY SANBORNE
Cover art by Amanda Kelsey
Edited by Nicole Bunting
eBook conversion by JimandZetta.com
All Romance eBooks, LLC
Palm Harbor, Florida 34684
www.allromanceebooks.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First All Romance eBooks publication: February 2010
Foreword
“Nothing’s better than a healthy heart, which helps women endure the ailments of life—physical or romantic—and come out on top of it all. This anthology, with stories by some of the most talented romance writers in the market, will benefit hearts everywhere. It’s not often you can contribute to a worthy cause, one that may well affect you in your lifetime, and at the same time assure yourself of some excellent entertainment. Have a good time, and let your heart be your guide.”
Charlaine Harris
Chapter One
Ian Jackson rechecked his camera equipment for the dozenth time in the past hour.
“Hey, Josie, any word from Mikaela yet?”
“Sorry, Ian, nothing yet,” Josie replied from the other room. He caught a muffled, “Stupid airhead probably doesn’t hear her damned phone.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
“You can’t deny she’s an airhead. I told you to go with Loretta. She’s not a natural blonde, but at least she usually shows up on time.” Josie emerged with a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
He regarded it suspiciously. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it?” When he’d hired her six months ago, Josephine Guiness had told him up front that he could make his own effing coffee, personal assistants had enough shit to deal with. Josie tended to have a bit of a mouth on her when no clients were around.
“I enjoy having a steady paycheck. Your testiness works against that.”
He was testy?
“You don’t get me coffee, Josie.”
“No, I don’t. I made myself a pot and couldn’t see letting it sit. You need caffeine. I know how you get under stress without it.” She smirked. “Don’t count on it happening again.” She headed back to the other room, presumably to try to reach Mikaela again.
Ian knew better than to wait until the last minute for product shoots. Yet he had been wanting to land Mikaela St. James since she burst onto the scene two years ago and finally managed to work something out with her agent. Unfortunately, it forced him to cut his deadline super close. Though it was quickly moving from super close to completely fucked. If Mikaela didn’t show in the next twenty minutes, he wouldn’t have enough time to process the film and hit the FedEx drop off. Nabbing the first flight out to LA in the morning to hand deliver the photos was an option, but it would mean kissing every cent of profit goodbye. If the planes were on time. Flying out of Philadelphia in the late fall was chancy at best. The other three seasons weren’t much better.
Not for the first time, he wished he’d made the switch to digital photography. That alone would cut two hours off his production time. But he preferred the softer look of film, the control he had through developer and timing and processing to make a picture into a work of art that didn’t involve erasing half of what he had found beautiful in the first place. People paid him for that look. People like Altair Designs, who promised a small fortune for their recastings of the royal gems of Ashanti to be photographed to their best display. Mikaela had been his idea, and it was proving to be a bad one.
“Ian?”
He glanced up, surprised to find Josie standing next to him. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Mikaela’s a no show. Her agent finally returned one of my many calls. Seems Ms. St. James is on her way to Moscow at the moment.”
“What do you mean on her way to Moscow?”
“She’s in the air and out of touch. Her agent sends their sincerest apologies and hopes they haven’t inconvenienced us.” She snorted.
It took considerable effort, but Ian managed not to kick over his camera. Losing the Altair job meant he couldn’t afford to have a tantrum. “Goddammit. You warned me, Josie.”
“Well, I’ll refrain from telling you ‘I told you so’ until tomorrow when you won’t fire me for it.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Laying a hand on his shoulder, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Let me go make some calls. There are a couple girls that would jump at this chance.”
None of them were Mikaela. “They wouldn’t get here in time. Fuck it. Get me Altair and I’ll try my best to save face.”
“Don’t be a diva, Ian.” Josie folded her arms over her ample chest, her green eyes flashing at him like emeralds in the studio lights, her red hair glowing nearly garnet. Christ, he had jewels on the brain. Jewels… He looked at Josie, really looked at her while she continued talking animatedly. “There are any number of girls who could do this shoot. You’re just disappointed because some stick-thin useless ideal of beauty blew you off. Give some other girl a chance. Everyone’s using Mikaela St. James. You can do better.”
He barely heard her.
An idea was forming, a wild, outrageous idea that was likely to get the first coffee she’d ever brought him flung in his face. “You know what, Josie,” he said carefully, stepping behind his camera as a buffer, “you’re absolutely right. Go in the changing room and put on the outfit we got for the shoot.”
Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. “You want me to what?” Then she started laughing. “Yeah, good one, Ian. Let me go make those calls.”
He caught her arm as she started away. “I wasn’t kidding, Josie. The clock is ticking. I need to get the photos done now.”
“I don’t remotely resemble that flighty twig you wanted, if you haven’t noticed. Though I’ve a pretty good notion you have.” She tugged free. “Having noticed, you’ll realize that little number Mikaela was supposed to wear won’t fit my big toe. Maybe we can rig up a decent display on some of that black velvet we’ve got in back.”
A practical solution, but his was far better.
“No.” He propelled Josie toward the dressing room. “The outfit might be a bit snug, but it’ll fit. I’m shooting the jewelry, not the outfit.”
“Ian, this is crazy.”
“Altair wants flesh, not velvet.” Josie’s pale, creamy skin would serve as a more striking canvas for the brilliant jewels than Mikalea’s fake baked bronze ever could. “We’re in a pinch and your flesh isn’t bad.”
He could almost hear her eyes roll. “Jesus, way to boost a girl’s ego. ‘Isn’t bad’. Do I have a great personality, too?”
Biting his lip, literally, Ian barely managed to keep from responding. He needed her, and pissing her off wouldn’t help matters. “Please, Josie. Just this once. I’ll even pay you Mikaela’s fee.”
“In addition to my salary?”
“Yes.”
Relenting, she headed into the changing room of her own volition and slammed the door in his face. “That proves it, you are desperate.”
Leaning against the wall, Ian hit his head against it a few times for good measure.
“No need to give yourself brain damage,” she sing-songed. “Go get that camera set up. I should be done here in—” The sound of material tearing set his nerves on edge. “Nothing to worry about, Ian. Grab me a few safety pins and I’ll be good as new.”
Mikaela was going to bring her own dresser and makeup artist, so Ian hadn’t bothered, which left them with no one to help Josie but him. He fished around in the tackle box on the makeup table to find the pins she wanted, grabbing some tape as well. She was grumbling when he knocked on the door. “I’ve got those pins. Do you need help?”
“Unless you’re good at breast reduction on the fly, there isn’t much you’ll be able to do.” She sounded breathless. “The cups are too small and it doesn’t quite reach around.”
“Open up, let me see what I can do.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before the door opened.
Despite her protests, she looked amazing. The delicate lace brassiere was two cup sizes too small, but was cut just right to boost her breasts instead of crushing them, forming a beautiful full cleavage that would make most men salivate. Fortunately he had considerable practice in camouflaging his response. There was enough elastic in the matching boy leg panties to keep from digging into her thighs, the black fabric making her pale skin stand out even more. She was right; she wasn’t a skinny little twig. She was curvy in all the right places. Ian was an idiot for not having noticed it before.
He certainly noticed now.
“Stop staring at me,” she barked, hiding her blush by pushing her long hair back behind her ear. “I know I look like a fool, but at least you could be supportive. I feel like I’m about to burst out of this thing.”
If only. Whoa there, Ian. “You’re fine. You’re better than fine. You’re perfect.” He turned her around. “Let me reinforce this a little bit.” Careful not to prick her, he loosened the back hooks on the bra and pinned them together a little more loosely with the safety pins, allowing her to breathe a little easier. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you. What about makeup?”
“I don’t think you need much.” Her eyes were already done in a sooty yet understated mascara and neatly lined. The only thing missing was lip color. “Come on, sit down. I’ll do it for you.”
“We’re working against the clock, Ian. I’ve been doing makeup since I could walk, or so my mother likes to tell everyone. Just leave it to me.” She bypassed the mirror and tackle box and walked into the office. Reemerging, she carried her purse, pulling out three different colors. “Tramp’s out.” She dropped one back into her purse, holding up the other two. “Vamp or virginal?”
“Uh…I like the darker one.”
“Vamp it is.” She started applying a color that looked halfway between red and brown.
He couldn’t recall her wearing any shade of lipstick.
“You’re staring again, what is it?”
“Why haven’t I seen you wear lipstick before?”
“Because you’re a man?” She gave him an arch glance before turning back to the mirror. “Do you know how nasty cups look with lipstick marks on them? Plus it’s a pain in the ass to wash off, what little I don’t end up chewing off.”
She was moving so fast, it made him wince. “Okay, but can you…” He flinched when she rubbed her lips together with a smack, smearing the line. “Look, don’t hit me, but can I…” She looked at him, puzzled. He held up his hands in peace before reaching for a lip brush. “You’ve smeared the line. Let me fix it, okay?”
Puzzlement became outright bemusement, making him suspect she’d never had anyone else do her makeup for her. With another placating gesture, he used the lipstick and brush to neatly outline just outside the full curve of her lips. Taking a chance, he reached for the tube she had called Tramp, which was a liquid red, so dark it was almost black. Using a clean brush, he filled in her lips, keenly aware of the plump pull of them against the brush with each stroke until he finished, leaving her mouth pouty and moist.
She glanced at herself in the mirror and then at him. “How did you do that?”
“I couldn’t always afford makeup artists,” he shrugged. “I learned some tricks on my own. Happy?”
“It looks great. Thank you.”
He offered her his hand. “Your pedestal awaits.”
The “pedestal” was a set of firm foam blocks covered in black silk set in front of a matching silk backdrop pulled and swagged to look like it flowed. Josie sat down self-consciously, unsure where to put her hands when she had no pockets to shove them into.
From behind the blocks, he pulled out a strappy pair of five-inch patent leather stilettos. She groaned. “You don’t really expect me to wear those, do you?”
“I expect you to wear them. I don’t expect you to walk in them. Come on, Cinderella, give me your foot.”
He held one shoe for her while she slipped her foot in, a nearly perfect fit, her toes painted a dark crimson that matched the Tramp lipstick he was starting to suspect was her favorite. As he gently buckled the straps around her ankle, he was startled to find he was getting hard. He’d never thought about her that way, and never got aroused by any of the models he shot. This seemed much more intimate, somehow. He helped her into the other one just as slowly, savoring the feel of it.
She grimaced. “Now that you’ve got me hobbled, what next?”
“First of all, relax and try to look natural. Don’t pose.” Reluctantly, he moved away and headed to the safe to retrieve the jewels.
Josie laughed. “Natural…right.”
He found her sitting in nearly the same position when he returned. “Forget natural, but I do need you relaxed.”
Her gaze dropped to her cleavage, then fixed on him again. “Ian, if I relax too much I’m going to be busting out all over. Pun intended.”
That made him smile. “How about try not to look like you’re fighting to maintain the integrity of the outfit.” He set the case down on a stand offstage and opened it. “Let’s start with something simple.” He pulled out a large silver and hematite ring and several slack chain bracelets set with rubies and diamonds. “Put these on.”
She slipped the ring on her finger before attempting to hook one of the bracelets, but the fine catch proved difficult to work one handed. “Do you mind?” She offered him her wrist.
He didn’t mind at all. To the contrary, he was finding he liked dressing her up a lot. Maybe too much. Controlling his reaction, he connected the clasp, then put the other one on her as well. “Now bend over and hold your ankles.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, but did as he asked, her ruddy hair falling in a curtain around her face and providing a contrast to the black shoes and fancy baubles. He savored it for a moment before shaking his head regretfully. “Hang on.” He grabbed a hair clamp from the dressing table, then twisted her hair up on the back of her head. He thought she shivered at his touch, but she said nothing. Crouching down, he adjusted her hands around her ankles to display the bracelets and ring to full advantage. “Now don’t move,” he ordered as he reached for his camera.
“He says to the top-heavy girl bent over on stilettos,” Josie chuckled. “It’s a good thing I have outstanding balance.”
She did, not even wavering as he sprawled out on the floor to line up the shot. Her fuller wrists and ankles set of the curves of the jewelry the way Mikaela’s straight lines never would have, and his mind’s eye started creating other layouts that would take advantage of her shape.
Ian shot a full roll before releasing her. “Lie down on your back now,” he ordered, taking the pieces from her and returning to the case. “Propped up on your elbows.” Pulling out three strands of pearls and antique lampwork beads, he turned to find she had actually followed his instructions, her breasts thrusting up with the arch of her back. “All right, now,” he hesitated, “I’m not getting fresh or anything. I’m just—”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Would you be this careful with Mikaela?”
“Well, no, but you aren’t her.” A difference he was starting to appreciate in whole new ways.
“Just do it, picture man.”
All the same, he held his breath as he pooled each strand of beads over one breast and down into the valley between to cascade onto her ribcage. The colorful beads along with the purity of the pearls jumbled together in perfect contrast to the black bra and pale white skin that was their background. Grabbing the camera again, he started shooting the display up across her cleavage, trying to ignore the woman beneath his camera.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Ian, I’m not as worried about busting out of these skimpy garments.”
“Oh, why’s that?” he said distractedly, trying to get the right angle. Christ, she was gorgeous. Why had he never noticed before?
“It’s a bit difficult to worry about that when you’re wearing jewelry that costs more than you make in two months.”
“Technically you aren’t wearing them.” He lined up a shot down the swell of her cleavage, envying the beads that clung there. “And stop talking. It makes your chest move.”
“Why, is it distracting you?” There was no mistaking the teasing note in her voice.
Yes. Though it was pretty distracting when she wasn’t talking, either. Instead he said, “It keeps messing up the lines.”
“We can’t have that.” Josie promptly shut up, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitching. She was enjoying this too much.
Two more rolls of film and he was ready to move onto the next piece, another necklace set with a delicate cameo surrounded by emeralds in a variety of shapes to make a fascinating cluster. With exaggerated care, he set the pendant in the well of her navel, trying not to think of what else would fill that valley. Water, wine, his tongue… God dammit. The chain spilled across her belly, making her hiss. “Hey, watch it.”
“Sorry.” He really wasn’t. Though sturdy, the chain flowed like water, molding to Josie’s curves.
“You know, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Unshuttered Page 1
