Chapter 15
Chloe was awestruck. Every single photo was mesmeric, refined, stunning—evoking a warm, fuzzy feeling as she stood, eyes glued to them.Why doesn’t he seem proud of his work?
Dylan cleared his throat, drawing her out of her fangirl trance. “How about I show you what I think may help with your situation.”
Chloe whirled around and observed Dylan as he walked over to a bookshelf. “Um, okay,” she muttered, suddenly unsure if those photos should take full credit for that warm, fuzzy feeling. Just watching him strut across the room made her knees turn to water, her flesh tingle. And there they were—just the two of them—upstairs.
In a bedroom.
Okay, notthebedroom, but in all fairness, she hadn’t been inanybedroom with a man since, what felt like, the dinosaur ages.
Twirling a loose strand of hair, Chloe stepped over to the bookshelf, curious about the large-sized photo album he grabbed, hoping there were more gorgeous pictures to look at.“What’s that?”
“Inspiration,” he said all smirky-like, then tucked the album under his arm as he scooted the dark gray love seat to the middle of the room. “Have a seat, Miss Davenport.”
It made her feel kinky. The sound ofMiss Davenportas it rolled off of his tongue. Kinky in a good, throw-her-up-against-the-wall-and-kiss-her sort of way, of course.
Heart aflutter, she obeyed his command, eased down onto the love seat, legs crossed, arms folded.
“Relax.” He chuckled, plopping down beside her. “You seem tense.”
You make me feel tense, intense, all the damn tenses.“I’m not tense.” Lying about the most obvious of things came ridiculously easy when she was around him.
“Right,” Dylan replied, one corner of his mouth lifted, eyes briefly skimming her down, then back up.
A flush surged her face when his dark eyes met hers.He knows you’re nervous.
Turning away from his savvy gaze was the only way she could save herself from melting into a pile of lovestruck mush. “So, show me this thing you call inspiration.”
Dylan placed the album on his lap and opened it. “As a writer, I’m sure you don’t have any trouble describing what you see, right?”
Hunky. Dreamy. Charming.Three words that popped in her head as she looked at him.“Nope. No trouble at all.”
“Great. Perhaps these pictures will assist with some of the scenes your editor is asking you to write. They’re of models posing as passionate couples.”
Oh.Chloe bit down on her lower lip.
“Sometimes, intimacy can be left up to the imagination.” He slid the open album onto her lap. “Take this couple for instance, they’re not partaking in the act of lovemaking; however, the way they appear in the picture—”
“One would think they were about to,” Chloe interjected, eyes gleaming.
“Exactly.” He seemed pleased she understood what he was getting at. “I figure you can use these as a way to describe, in a sexier manner, something your readers know the characters are about to do, but leave the rest off the page, as you say.
Flipping through the album, Chloe reviewed each image, all in that signature black and white, like the others in the room, as well as the ones adorning his living room walls. Excitement bubbled inside while she studied the poses: intimate, sensual, and affectionate. “Dylan, would you mind if I take this album home with me? Borrow it for a few days until I decide what it is I want to do about my novel?”
“You can keep it. I have the originals.”
His thigh was pressed against hers as they somehow were seated closer now. Palms sweating, Chloe could have sworn her heart did a cartwheel when his brown-eyed gaze met hers.
Lean in just a little closer…maybe he’ll kiss you.
And when she did, the sound of the wind humming had them both look toward the window. “I should probably get home. It’s late.”
“Of course.” He stood, held out his hand, helped her off the love seat. “I’ll walk you out.”
Once downstairs, Chloe grabbed her purse, the photo album clenched to her chest. “Thank you for this, Dylan, I’m sure it will help a lot.”
“My pleasure.” A gust of wind whooshed by when he opened the door. “You’d better hurry and get in your place.” He stepped aside, holding the door open, his eyes following her saunter past him. “Not too sure why the wind is picking up.”
