Chapter Twenty-Five #3
Careless of her, she thought. She set the timer, flicked off the lights, and began the developing process.
The dark soothed her. She could move competently, even mechanically, by feel alone.
Anticipation hummed. What would she see here, what would she find?
What frozen moment would be preserved forever simply because she had chosen it?
She turned on the red bulb, washed the room in that eerie workman’s lighting. And gave a choked cry that was part shock, part laughter as she stared at the negative of herself, nude, sprawled on Nathan’s carpet.
“Jesus, that’ll teach me not to mark film.”
She held up the roll, studying the other negatives. The ones she’d taken of the storm looked promising. And her mouth pursed as she examined the earlier shots, ones Nathan must have taken along the way.
There was one of dunes, across the meadow where the flowers were blooming and the sea beyond rolled in a high, frothy crest.
Decent composition, she mused. For an amateur. Of course if she bothered to take it to contact stage, she’d undoubtedly find several major flaws.
Her eyes were drawn back to the end of the roll. Her own face, her own body. Even as her hand reached for the scissors to destroy the negatives, she paused. Was she going to be that prudish, that stubborn, and not satisfy her own curiosity?
She was the only one who had to see them, after all.
On impulse, she set back to work. It couldn’t hurt to make a set of contacts from the roll. She could destroy the ones of herself later. After she’d taken a good look at them.
She didn’t hum along with the radio as she worked now. She felt too uneasy, and too excited, to hear the music that tinkled out.
The sheet was barely dry when she slapped it onto her light table and applied the loupe. She caught her breath as the images enlarged and focused.
She looked so ... wanton, she supposed would be the word. Her eyes half closed, her lips just curved in obvious sexual satisfaction. Her body looked almost ripe. Apparently she had gotten her figure back without even noticing. She certainly had curves.
In the next her eyes were fully open and round with shock. Her hands were halfway up to her breasts, movement frozen by the fast film. There was no denying that she looked—how had he put it? Rumpled and sexy?
Oh, God, she had never allowed herself to be that exposed to anyone before. She’d let that happen, and now for just a moment, she could admit she wanted to let it happen again.
She wanted to let him touch her, to make her feel desired and reckless. There was a yearning deep in the pit of her stomach to be that woman again, the woman he’d seen and captured on film. To let him take control of her, and to know that she had the power to take control of him.
He’d given that to her, and by preserving that moment, had made her look straight at it and see what she could have with him. And what she could lose without him.
“You bastard, Nathan. I hate you for this.”
She got up quickly, stuffed the sheet deep into a drawer. No, she wouldn’t destroy it. She would keep it, as a reminder. Whenever she felt herself tempted to trust a man again, to give that much to a man, she would take it back out, study it.
And remind herself how easily they walked away.
“Jo Ellen.” Lexy’s voice came through the door as her knock sounded sharp and loud.
“I’m working in here.”
“Well, I know that. But you might want to finish up quick, fast, and in a hurry. Guess who came in on the late ferry?”
“Brad Pitt.”
“Don’t I wish? But you might like this better. Nathan Delaney just walked in the kitchen, big as life and twice as handsome. And he’s looking for you.”
Jo lifted a fist to her heart and firmly shoved it back in place. “Tell him I’m busy.”
“I already gave him the cold shoulder for you, sugar. Told him I didn’t see why you should drop what you were doing and come running just because he blew back onto Desire like an ill wind.”
Jo found her lips curving in appreciation. She could easily visualize the scene, with Lexy playing the chilly Southern Belle to the hilt. “I appreciate it.”
“But I have to tell you—oh, open this door, Jo. I’m tired of talking through it.”
Because Lexy had just climbed to the top of Jo’s most favored list, she obliged, snicking open the lock, and opening the door enough that she could lean on the jamb.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d tell him I’m not interested in adjusting my schedule to suit his whims.”
“I will. That’s nicely put. But Jo, he looks so windblown and sexy and on the edge of something.” Lexy rolled her eyes in pure female appreciation. “It gave my heart a nice flutter just to look at him.”
“Well, you can just stop fluttering. Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, honey lamb, absolutely one hundred percent.” She kissed Jo’s cheek to prove it. “He has to be punished, no doubt about it. And if you need some advice on how to go about it, I’m more than happy to give you some ideas.”
“I’ve got plenty of my own, thanks.” But she rolled her shoulders to ease the tension. “Tell him I have no desire to see or speak to him, and that I expect to be busy with a great many more important matters than him for quite some time.”
“I wish you’d tell him that yourself, just that way. I believe you’ve got a real knack for this.” Lexy’s grin spread wide as she wound a lock of hair around her finger. “I’ll go down and tell him, then I’ll come back up here and tell you what he has to say to that.”
“This isn’t high school.”
“No, it’s more interesting and more fun.
Oh, I know you’re scalded good and proper, Jo.
” She patted her sister’s cheek. “I’d be as spitting mad as a stomped-on cat myself.
But just think how satisfying it’s going to be when he crawls.
Don’t you take him back until he does. And he comes up with at least two bouquets of flowers and a nice, expensive present. It should be jewelry.”
Jo’s humor made a rapid return. “Lexy, you’re a manipulative and materialistic woman.”
“And proud of it, honey. You listen to your baby sister and you’ll end up owning that man. Now I figure he’s been down there waiting and sweating long enough for the next slap.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll make it count for you, don’t you worry.”
Jo stayed leaning against the doorjamb as Lexy flounced away. “I bet you will,” she murmured. “And I’ll owe you big for it.”
Satisfied, Jo turned back into the darkroom. She tidied her workbench, rearranged her bottles of chemicals, then put them back in their original positions. She examined her nails and wondered if she should let Lexy give her a manicure after all.
When she heard the footsteps, she turned toward the door, prepared to hear Lexy’s report. When Nathan filled the doorway, his temper shot straight into hers.
“I need you to come with me.” His voice was clipped and anything but apologetic.
“I believe you were informed I’m busy. And you haven’t been invited into this room.”
“Save it, Scarlett.” He grabbed her hand and pulled. When her free one reared back, whipped forward, and cracked hard across his face, he narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Fine, we do it the hard way.”
The room turned upside down so rapidly she didn’t even get out the curse burning on her tongue. He was halfway out of the room with her slung over his shoulder before she got past the shock enough to fight.
“Get your goddamn belly-crawling Yankee bastard hands off me.” She punched at his back, furious that she couldn’t manage a full swing.
“You think you can send your sister to brush me off? In a pig’s eye.” He shoved open the door with his shoulder and started down the narrow stairway. “I’ve been traveling the whole fucking day to get here, and you’ll have the courtesy to listen to what I need to say.”
“Courtesy? Courtesy? What does a snake oil New York hotshot know about courtesy?” In the confines of the stairway, her struggles only resulted in her rapping her head against the wall. “I hate you.” Her ears rang from both the blow and the humiliation.
“I’ve prepared myself for that.” Grim and determined, he hauled her into the kitchen. Both Lexy and Brian froze and gaped. “Excuse me,” he said shortly, and carried her outside while she left a trail of threats and curses behind them.
“Oh.” Lexy sighed, long and deep, holding a hand to her heart. “Wasn’t that the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen in all your life?”
“Shit.” Brian set down the pie he’d just taken out of the oven. “She’ll rip his face off first chance she gets.”
“A lot you know about romance.” Lexy leaned against the counter. “Twenty dollars says he’s got her in bed, fully willing, within an hour.”
Brian heard Jo scream out something about castrating a certain Yankee son of a bitch and nodded. “You’re on, darling.”