Page 6 of Pursuing Desire

It’s a fairly short ride to my home, especially by Manhattan standards. Before long, I’m heading up to my penthouse, and the elevator doors open to reveal a curvaceous brunette. The soft, curly ringlets of her hair are bouncing in tune with the impatient tapping of her foot. She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me with a scowl of annoyance as I step out of the elevator.

“You’re late,” she accuses as soon as she sees me.

Surprise hits me when I realize it’s Jess. “You’re the photographer?”

She points to the camera and smiles sweetly at me. Too sweetly. “What gave it away?”

I detect the faint sarcasm, but all I can think is holy hell.

She’s damn hot.

I discreetly scan her from head to toe. The tight black dress pants do nothing to hide the gentle flare of her hips, and the sleeveless, silky white blouse shows the faint outline of her bra beneath. My line of sight continues downward as I silently admire her curves and the still-tapping foot.

I last saw Jess a few months ago at my brother’s wedding. The memory of that meeting is still fresh in my mind. I had tried to flirt with her, and she shot me down. At first, I thought she was playing hard to get, but I quickly realized I was utterly wrong.

She doesn’t like me. Why? I have no idea. I’ve been my usual charming self every time our paths have crossed. I wish this were a playing-hard-to-get thing, but no, she has made it clear she doesn’t like me.

If I’m being honest with myself, it’s kind of a turn-on. I’ve always liked a challenge.

She snaps her fingers to get my attention. “If you’re done checking me out, Dax, could we get started? I have another appointment after yours.”

My reluctant eyes raise to meet hers, and I’m intrigued by the look of distaste on her face. That’s not something I see often.

I school my expression into one of disinterest and flash a lazy smile. “Of course. I was just admiring your . . . shoes.”

Her eyes show a spark of annoyance and not even a hint of interest. We’ve only met a few times, but I enjoy baiting her for some reason. I just can’t help myself.

Brushing by her, I unlock the door to my penthouse and step aside to let her in. She walks past me in her impossibly high heels and quickly scans the interior of my penthouse with curious eyes. When she turns back to me, I immediately sense she’s all business now. “The interior designer, Leslie, has already filled me in on the project,” she says. “She’ll be redecorating your entire place, so she wants photos of every room. Is that okay with you?”

I close the door. Choosing to ignore her question, I ask instead, “Since when did you start photographing interior design projects? I thought you only photographed people.”

Her eyes narrow at my questions. “I started my career in real estate photography. Don’t worry. I have plenty of experience with this type of work, if that’s a concern.”

“Not concerned at all, just curious.”

“I’ll show your home in the best possible light, don’t worry.” She pauses, and her eyes sweep the room once more. “Your home is already beautiful. But Leslie will make it even more impressive. She thinks these photos could end up in a magazine.”

“That’s the idea. I’m doing this for her. If it will help her get her new business rolling, I’m happy to hire her.”

Jess raises her eyebrows. “I understand. I didn’t realize you and Leslie were that close.”

“What makes you think we’re close?” I ask curiously.

“Why else would you help her? She’s a beautiful woman.” She smirks. “Anyway, forget I said that. Your relationship with Leslie isn’t my business.”

My eyebrows raise slightly as I catch onto what she’s implying. She thinks I’m sleeping with Leslie. A part of me thinks I should defend myself. The other part of me wants to let her believe whatever she wants to believe. I have a reputation to maintain, after all.

I shrug. “Maybe you’re right. Why else would I help her?”

She swings her gaze away and starts digging in her bag. “So, like I asked before. Is it okay for me to photograph all of the rooms? Is there anywhere that is off-limits?”

She pulls out a lens and twists it onto her camera body. She is fiddling with the settings but looks up when I answer.

“Of course. You may photograph whatever you like, Jess.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best to stay out of your way,” she says.

I watch her as she moves around the room, adjusting items here and there. She is precise in her movements and carefully frames each scene before clicking the shutter button. I notice how she uses the natural light from the large windows to best showcase the room. She obviously has skill.