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She sat on the couch with a thump before trying to position herself in such a way that she blocked as much of the view behind her as possible. It was pointless. She was small, the window was large, and Duncan was elevated enough to see over her head.
“Can we at least close the blinds?” she tried.
He ran a hand through his hair, in a gesture that screamed frustration. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” It came out a bit too fast, and her cheeks began to heat.
He looked suspicious, so she scrambled for something else to tell him. “I’ve never posed for an artist before.”
The tension went out of his shoulders some. “Well, it’s easy. All you do is sit still and shut up.” He gave her a slow smile as his eyes sparkled. “I promise I’ll make it good for you.”
Oh yeah, her cheeks were definitely heated now. She studied him, trying to figure out if the innuendo was intentional. It couldn’t have been. It had to be her imagination.
“So, what’s it going to be?” he said. “Are you going to pose where I put you, or do I go outside to draw?”
That was no choice at all. “I’ll pose.”
“Fantastic. In that case, do you think you could relax? You look like a wooden doll.”
Of course she looked like a wooden doll. There was enough tension in her body to solidify her muscles and turn her to stone. She stood, shook out her arms, angled her head from side to side, and did a few stretches while she focused on breathing.
Then she perched on the edge of the sofa with her knees together, hands in her lap, and her back straight. She gave him her best plastic smile. “Better?”
“I can honestly say I’ve never had a model do a warm-up before they posed for me. It’s a whole new experience. You sure you don’t want to do some yoga to really get in the zone?”
She frowned at him. “Is. This. Pose. Okay?”
“It would be great—if you were the witness in a trial. I need something a wee bit more relaxed.”
“This is as relaxed as it’s going to get. How about I offer to stare at you for hours on end, and we’ll see how relaxed you feel?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, and she got the distinct impression he regretted asking her to pose. “How about you sit back and read a book?”
That got her attention. “You want me to read?”
“Aye. You’ve always got a book in that massive bag you cart around, so go get it and you can read while I draw.”
“Do I get paid for this or is it considered free time?”
“Donna, you’re on a salary. Not an hourly rate.”
“I just want to be clear that this isn’t time I need to make up later, right?”
“No.”
“And all the things that don’t get done while I sit here will remain undone if I can’t fit them into a normal day?”
“Aye.”
“And you won’t freak out if one of those things is something you wanted done?”
“Donna, get the damn book.”
Well, that changed everything. If she was going to get paid to read, then this posing thing was looking up. “Back in a minute.” She ran for the door.
Ten minutes later, she’d returned with a copy of The Hunger Games. She’d chosen it because she hadn’t gotten around to drawing on the pages yet, which meant less chance of anything from the book popping out of her imagination and into the real world to annoy her. With a glee-filled smile, she settled into the corner to read.
Maybe this posing thing would be okay after all.
