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Sammi thought this sounded presumptuous of him. No doubt growing up in an affluent family left him indifferent to what others might struggle with. Through this entire encounter her perception of Oliver had been shifting. At first, she’d been thrilled that her teenage crush had finally noticed her, but she was fast discovering that he possessed more layers than she’d imagined.
“So, what do you say?” he prompted, breaking into her troubled thoughts.
“About?”
“Letting me take your photo?”
Sammi thought about the difficult evening that stretched before her once she returned to the apartment she shared with her mother. Explaining that Ty had broken up with her would result in a lengthy lecture on her foolishness. Celeste was obsessed with financial security and saw her daughter’s relationship with a successful ad executive as a positive thing. In fact, without her mother’s pushing, Sammi would have ended things with Ty long before his resentment had led him to grow abusive.
“I don’t know,” she hedged, conscious that she’d already made her decision.
“You can trust me.”
And in a moment of sudden and shocking clarity, Sammi realized she did. “It occurred to me that I probably can’t afford what you normally charge to photograph people. Just out of curiosity, what do you charge for these private portrait sessions?”
“Usually a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Seriously?” She gaped at him. “No offense, but why are people willing to pay so much?”
“Privacy.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “I show them something no one else has captured before. Something they might not wish the world to see.” His self-assurance hummed like a high-voltage wire. Get too close to this man and it might prove fatal. “They are paying for my integrity. No picture I take of them will never find its way into the public domain unless they choose to release it.”
She gusted out a breath. “Well, I guess that means that this photo shoot isn’t going to happen, because I don’t have a hundred thousand dollars to give you.”
“I didn’t expect you did.” He gestured toward her purse. “How much money do you have with you?”
“Let’s see.” Sammi pulled out her wallet. “Twenty-three dollars.” She pulled out the bills and flashed them.
Oliver plucked the bills from her hand and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. “Then for twenty-three dollars, I will take one picture of you.”
“Photographers take hundreds to get the perfect shot,” she said, knowing he was doing her a favor but unable to stop herself from pushing back. Earlier when he’d spoken of capturing the essence of his subjects, she’d been both intrigued and filled with skepticism. Most people guarded their true selves and reluctantly gave up their dark secrets to their shrinks, much less allowed them to be exposed to a camera. “You’re going to do it in one try?”
“Are you challenging my ability as a photographer?”
Understanding dawned. This was the game he played. The challenge that he set for himself with each new client. It wasn’t enough for him to take amazing photographs for magazines. He had to do something that proved he was a master of his craft.
If Oliver seemed annoyed by her continued resistance, he gave no sign. They relocated to a cozy couch in the Grand Bar and Lounge, where Oliver ordered a sampling of small plates and a club soda for himself. Determined to keep a clear head, Sammi followed suit. While they ate, Oliver shared stories of the celebrities he’d photographed, and Sammi described her modeling experiences overseas.
He watched her with rapt focus. Not like a predator, preparing to pounce, but as if she was some rarity and he an avid collector.
“What?” she demanded, equal parts intrigued and terrified beneath his curious stare.
Was she imagining that something was happening between them? She no longer believed his sole purpose in approaching her had been to get her into bed. His mysterious behavior made him impossible to read, and that only enhanced his sex appeal. She wanted to be alone with him, to immerse herself in his kisses and let her body be in control for a change.
Something must’ve shown in her expression, because he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“I find you fascinating.”
The remark...the confession...or maybe the awe in his voice set her on fire. What had once been a teenager’s unrequited crush became the beginnings of a woman’s full-blown obsession.
The air around her grew too thin to breathe. Dizzy, she gripped the sleeve of his leather jacket to steady herself as his warm breath feathered across her cheek. She was on the verge of turning her head and meeting the lips that hovered so near, when he eased back. But even as disappointment flowed into her, Oliver stood and extended his hand to her.
“Let’s get out of here.” There was both command and entreaty in his tone.
“Where to?” Seized by something momentous and exhilarating, she grasped his long fingers and let him draw her to her feet.
“You paid me for a photo.” His deep voice rumbled through her. “It’s time I deliver.”
Neither spoke as they exited the hotel and strolled along the sidewalk. Sammi settled her hands deep into her coat pockets and resisted the urge to take his arm. She wasn’t accustomed to initiating spontaneous acts of affection. As Sammi grew up, her mother had often treated her more like a client than a daughter, claiming Sammi needed to develop a thick skin if she was going to survive in the fashion industry.
