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“Tell them I’m sorry.”
“But you’re not.”
“Accurate.” I giggle softly. “So tell them I’m looking forward to enjoying their restaurant tonight.”
“Would if I could.” He showers me with another kiss as I drop my head into the pillow. “But they don’t have a restaurant.”
“Then…where…?”
“Ssshhh.Rest.”
He’s back to yet another full grin. A more devastating version of the one he had earlier, when ensuring all would be revealed. I don’t have any more ideas about how to show him up this time, especially with these paradise-grade linens against my bare skin, so I give up a sleepy groan instead.
“Oh, my. You’re going to get max score on the next surprise-present points, aren’t you, Mr. Kane?”
In lieu of a reply, he backs out of the yurt with a thoroughly self-pleased smirk.
I don’t nap for very long, meaning I’m awake and looking at a field guide for the canyon when he re-enters a little under an hour later. The exact same expression is adorning his rugged, wonderful face.
“Good afternoon, Professor Maximus,” I greet with a smile, though the temptations rises to drop it as he stops hard in place. Certain shadows take over his gaze, making me wish for another picnic table in the vicinity.
“Oh, sweet woman,” he growls. “You look good enough to set me hunting for another picnic table.”
I raise both hands, which lowers the sheet a good inch on my chest. “I’ll bring the peanut butter if you handle the jelly. Or…we can just pretend to order in?”
His eyes darken by another shade as he jabs a finger toward the bed. “If we go there, we’re not going toleavethere.”
If he thinks that command is going to steer me off the subject, the sun has fried a few of his brain cells. I tell him so with a tiny shimmy that drops the sheet below my hardening nipples.
“No.” He slams his eyes shut. “No, no,no,you don’t. We have plans. You’ll be very glad when we keep them.”
I congratulate myself for expecting a comment in that vein. I’m more than ready with a convincing pout. “But what am I supposed to wear? Once the sun sets, I’ll freeze in those shorts. So maybe we have no choice about—”
I have no idea that his march behind the room’s dressing screen will yield his return with three dresses on padded hangers. They’re flowy, flowery, and more than deserving of my gawking jaw.
“Madame Voracity sends her regards,” he drawls. “Kell too. She kindly video-called to help me pick these out yesterday. You have the final selection, though. Whichever one you want. There are shoes and accessories behind the screen. Mix and match whatever you want.”
“Seriously?” It’s tight in my throat, clutched by rising emotions. And conflict.
I’m not new to this kind of gig or what to do. I’ve lost count of how many times I actuallyhavedone it for photo shoots of every ilk. But all of them were managed and planned because of some brand, even the one known as Kara Valari.
But all the preparation this man has taken…all the thought and care…
It’s impossible to gulp down the tears anymore.
As a few break free and roll down my face, Maximus chucks the dresses to the foot of the bed and plummets to my side.
“Whoa.Whoa, little demon. What’s this? Is the sprout making you feel gross?” He scoops my hand into his. “And it’s okay if you hate the dresses. But Kell said that—”
I squeeze his fingers, adding adamant nail digs into the back of his hand. “And she was right. They’re all stunning. I don’t know how I’m going to decide.”
He dips his head in, but it’s not necessary. My senses are blinded with the ferocity of his scrutiny.
“Then…what is it?”
With my free hand, I wick away the stray drops on my cheeks. “Nobody’s ever done this for me before. I mean…forme. Not for what I represent or for how many units my face can move of what they’re selling. Even just now, I nearly started asking myself where you were coming from with this. What your angle could possibly be.”
“My…angle?” The pause between his words is the framework for his stormy frown. Expecting it doesn’t make me less frightened of it, especially its adjoining retort. “I don’t have a damnangle, Kara.”
