Chapter 9
Viv eyed the variety of bark-covered trunks, tall branches, and vibrant green leaves blocking the sky. Lower, where she followed Duke, branches loomed closer overhead, dimming any runaway sunlight while the sounds of cawing birds and howling monkeys echoed in the space.
“This is one of my favorite spots on the island,” Duke said over his shoulder. He’d stopped walking, encouraging Viv to close the three or four foot gap between them.
“It is?” Hints of his heavenly cologne made her wish she’d have worn the tea rose after all. What would it have hurt?
“Yes, I love the rain forest,” Duke said. “They have a ton of macaws here. Howler monkeys too—that’s what we’re hearing right now, and…” He lifted a brow and grinned. “Sloths.”
There went that spot of heat around her heart again. “You like sloths?” she asked.
Duke threw her a look. “Who doesn’t? Anyway,” he continued, leading the way once more. “I was glad they wanted to shoot here. Though I’m not exactly sure what they have in mind.”
Viv lifted a brow. “You’re not? They didn’t tell you in advance?”
“No, but I didn’t ask.”
“Huh, I’m impressed,” she told him. “Most people want to know exactly what the photographer’s going to do, what they’ll be wearing, and who’ll be doing their hair and makeup.”
Duke gasped. “Wait, does that mean you’re not the one doing my hair and makeup?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. No, but that does remind me of something. We haven’t talked about your hair,” she said. “Heaven knows you were quite famous for your man bun. I figured you’d have grown it back by now.”
Duke shrugged. “I was going to, but the in-between stage is…tricky. I don’t know. Part of me thinks I don’t have the mojo to pull it off right now.”
Viv’s face scrunched up. “You’ll have to elaborate on that later,” she called ahead.
Duke sported a pair of gray shorts, a white tee, and a pale blue button up shirt. If she hadn’t known better, she’d say he was already dressed in the designer’s latest. Rico Shimwah had struck gold by getting a guy like Duke to wear his designs. The man could make fig leaves look good.
The muted lighting began to shift as they neared a clearing. “Here we are,” Duke said, stepping aside so that Viv could go ahead of him. The clearing was larger than she imagined. And brighter too.
Zee, one of Slipper’s photographers, stood with his equipment at the center. He gave her a wave. “Hey, Viv.”
“Morning,” she said with a nod. Nearby, a makeshift changing station offered a dividing wall, a rack of clothing, and a seat with a large mirror propped before it. Rico was there, seeming to scrutinize one of the shirts on the rack while the makeup artist waited with her supply.
Not too far off, a line of fold up chairs faced the action. Duke waved Viv toward the chairs. “Think that’s where you’ll sit,” he said with a nod.
“Thanks.” Viv made her way to the chairs as Duke headed to his spot in front of the mirror.
“Duke,” Rico cheered. “You made it, you made it.” He rubbed his hands together before clapping them three times. “You are going to make my line look so good. In this first shoot, we’re going for that alligator hunter look.”
“You mean Crocodile Hunter,” Zee mumbled while fiddling with the lens.
Rico shot him a look. “Yes.”
Duke, who was sitting in the makeup chair, closed his eyes as a beautiful redhead waved a powder brush over his face.
“As much as it pained me,” Rico continued, “we rubbed a few of the items through the dirt to achieve the right look.” He tugged a white, beachy-looking shirt from the rack. Thin material with short sleeves and buttons up the front.
“Come.” Rico clapped once more. “Let’s get you dressed.”
Duke waited for the makeup artist to step back. Once she did, he rose from the chair and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Just hand that to Darnell, she’ll hang it up for you,” Rico instructed.
Duke did as he said, handing his shirt to the redhead with an extended arm.
The undershirt went next as Duke, without delay, grabbed onto the bottom hem, tugged it over his head, and ripped it off his body.
And what a perfect body it was. Tanned and toned perfection described the planes of his muscled chest. Rays of sunlight broke through spots overhead, creating shadows that enhanced those muscles even more.
Viv’s cheeks flushed with heat as Duke reached for his zipper next. Was he about to go for it right in front of everyone?
“There’s a changing station,” she blurted, a bit of panic edging her voice.
The sounds of the rainforest fell silent.
The photographer looked back and forth between Viv and Duke. Rico did the same, surprise etched on his face. Darnell shot her a glare.
The cluster of assistants waiting at the fringe tipped their head to see who’d spoken up.
Viv cleared her throat. “If…you want a changing station,” she added.
Duke straightened his posture and turned in place until he was facing her with that exposed chest, hands still gripping the sides of that top, now undone button of his shorts.
Viv gulped.
He squared a challenging look at her. “Do you want me to go behind the divider?”
Umm…What would someone who was only interested in Duke as a friend say?
With the gaze of the group still pasted on her, Viv shook her head no. And then changed it to a nod instead. “Yes. I think it’d be best.”
A slow, triumphant grin formed at Duke’s lips as he held her gaze. Or maybe pompous was a better word for it. Whatever it was, the expression had Viv wanting to backpedal as he made his way behind the dividing wall.
“I mean,” she blurted, “if you’d like to make your underwear one of the article’s focal points, then go for it. There are a lot of curious women out there. You can answer that classic boxers or briefs question without a single word.”
Duke, who was behind the divider now, shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter to me,” he said. “But to answer your question—it’s both. They’re boxer briefs.” The divider suddenly looked much shorter with him there. It barely made it to his chest.
“It wasn’t my question,” she assured, hating the protesting-too-much tone of her reply.
She dropped her gaze as she heard the unfastening of his zipper, and felt her face flush once more.
A swoosh here and a swish there, and suddenly Duke was lifting the pair toward Darnell over the dividing wall.
The face heat moved to the back of Viv’s neck next. She’d never had this type of an issue before. Not even when Tom the Bomb insisted on wearing a horrible pair of bright yellow speedo trunks for his final shoot.
Little miss Darnell, who was standing far too close for Viv’s liking, leaned closer as Duke pulled on the shorts. Another zip, a bit of fastening, and Duke stepped back into full view.
“There we go.” Rico motioned to Darnell. “Hand over the shirt, will you? And Duke, leave it unbuttoned unless Zee says otherwise, please.”
Darnell handed him the button up shirt, and Duke shrugged into it and pulled that brooding smolder he was famous for.
Rico threw his head back. “Yes. That looks perfect. We might want to give him a few dirt smears on his chest too.”
The redhead started to raise a hand, no doubt to volunteer for the job, but the photographer spoke up in reply.
“His chest will get dirty enough when we bring in the animals,” Zee said. “We’re ready?”
“Animals?” Duke said.
From somewhere among the group of assistants, a woman dressed in khaki from shirt to shorts stepped into the clearing with a sloth wrapped around her waist. An animal specialist, Viv gathered.
She watched, already entertained as Duke’s face lit up. “Hey, little buddy,” he said, putting his hands out palm up. “This is awesome. You going to join me for the picture, little guy, huh?”
The adoration on his face was a sight all its own. Viv glanced at the camera where it stood on a tripod, hoping Zee was getting video footage between shoots.
The sloth—with its squished little face, squinty eyes, and long, hairy arms—was cute. Very cute. But Duke’s adorable manner with the animal was stealing the show.
“That’s right,” Duke mumbled as the sloth moved from the assistant’s arms to his. A laugh echoed deep in his chest as he came face-to-face with the furry creature.
“Very good,” Zee guided. “Stay just like that…”
Viv was relieved that he’d been ready to catch the candid moment. An image of Duke’s genuine adoration of the small creature. Several moments and a hundred or more clicks later, and the specialist brought out a bird in next. Bright red body, rainbow colors at the wings, with a white face and beak.
“Is this a macaw?” Duke asked as the trainer neared him with the massive bird.
“Yes, a scarlet macaw. I’m going to place her on your shoulder,” she explained, doing that very thing with slow, gentle movements. “Then I’m going to take the sloth.”
The sloth, seeming to know it was the topic of conversation, cuddled into his chest.
“No no,” Zee blurted. “Don’t take the sloth just yet. Let’s get it with both animals first, and see if we can add the monkey next.”
Viv chuckled, enjoying the way Duke squirmed beneath the macaw’s curling claws at his shoulder.
“Easy, Polly,” he mumbled, making the crew laugh as well.
“This is gorgeous,” Rico cheered.
“I love it,” Darnell agreed.
“Perfect,” Zee praised, snapping several photos with both animals on the set. Duke gave him plenty to work with, shifting from a broad smile one moment, a piercing look of bravery the next, and that intimidating smolder that, when turned on her, made Viv’s heart skip three hard beats.
“Are we ready to switch out for the howler monkey?” the trainer asked Zee.
“Why switch out?” Duke said. “Let’s see if we can do them all. Bring on the monkey. And while you’re at it, send in the clowns too.”
More laughter spread over the crowd, Viv’s among them. Duke was good under pressure. He liked the confirmation from his peers. Seemed to up his game when he was getting a good response.
Was this the box he was referring to? The label of who and how he was? If so, it seemed fitting enough.