Big City Cowboy. Julie Benson
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let irrational pheromones on overdrive interfere with her work.
“Angle behind him,” she whispered to Chloe. No way did she want Rory hearing this conversation. “I want shots from behind.”
“Butt shots coming up.”
She blushed, surprised at her reaction, since she and Chloe discussed models’ body parts all the time in shoots. “We’re selling jeans. The client will want to see how they look on our model from every angle.”
“No need to get defensive,” Chloe said as she moved to get the shots.
Elizabeth remained rooted in place, staring at Rory. The cowboy was absolutely mesmerizing. Stalwart. Confident. Any girl’s best dream. Elizabeth could barely breathe. Now if Chloe could get the heat radiating from him on film…
“Rory, would you mind putting down the saddle and taking off your shirt?”
“Yes, I’d mind.”
Elizabeth couldn’t have heard him. Either that or he misunderstood her question. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t mind putting the saddle down, but I’m not taking off my shirt.”
She stood there for a moment trying to regroup.
She was in charge. She told everyone what to do and they did as requested. No one at a photo shoot questioned her decision. Not even Chloe.
This cowboy so pushed her buttons.
For a minute she considered ordering Rory to take off his shirt, but the glint in his eyes stopped her. He flashed her a look similar to her first boss’s I’m-not-discussing-this expression. Sure, she was in charge, but her job hinged on two men’s whims right now, Micah Devlin and Rory McAlister. She couldn’t risk angering Rory enough that he hopped on the next plane to Colorado.
She could do this. Finesse and charm time. “Everyone take five.”
The crew scooted away, though not far, in case she and Rory put on a show.
She walked to where he stood beside the hay, wanting to make their conversation as private as possible. “Rory, what’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem, because I’m keeping my shirt on.”
She stared at him, trying to fathom what the hang-up could be. It wasn’t as if she was asking him to pose for a pinup poster. Granted, she hoped this shot would have the same effect and drive women wild for him and the jeans, but they were primarily selling the product.
Maybe he was embarrassed about his chest? It couldn’t be because he wasn’t in shape. No way could he be hiding a beer belly under that form-fitting shirt. Okay, so what else could it be? He was a cowboy. They got thrown from horses. “Do you have some kind of injury or scar that’s making this uncomfortable for you?”
“No.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“You told me I’d be modeling jeans, not posing for beefcake shots.”
“Shots of you without your shirt will highlight the jeans, and it’s what the client wants.”
“We don’t always get what we want.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. The guy was one huge piece of granite, hard and unmoving. Needing a chance to cool off, she walked to the table with bottled water by the dressing room. She grabbed one, surprised that the top didn’t pop off the way she squeezed the thing, and stormed back to Rory.
“Here, have some water.” She shoved the bottle into his hands. Hopefully, the water would cool him off, too. “I need a minute.”
Then she walked to the opposite side of the studio to talk to Chloe.
“I gather he’s still refusing to take off his shirt?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I think he’s just being stubborn.”
“We’ve got to get the shots of him in just the jeans.”
What about Rory made her want to dig in her heels? She felt as if she were six years old again, fighting with Angela Simmons. I dare you. No, I double dare you, and the next thing she knew, they were both sitting in Principal Mathews’s office.
“You may have to pull rank.” Chloe glanced toward Rory. “Look at him. How else do you think you’re going to get him to cooperate?”
She followed her friend’s gaze. The cowboy was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his strong chest. His lips formed a thin line. Nope, he hadn’t let go of his anger, either.
His gaze locked with hers again. Then his chin tilted up ever so slightly and he smiled.
No way was he backing down.
She’d never been a gambler, especially when the costs were so high, and not just for her, but those who worked with her. So much rode on the campaign’s success, and she needed those shots of Rory in just the jeans.
If he wanted to lock horns about this issue, he’d chosen the wrong person to mess with, because she couldn’t afford to lose.
She stalked across the floor and stopped in front of Rory. She looked into his chiseled features, unmoved by his gorgeous face or his angry scowl. “I need shots of you with your shirt off. You either do as requested or you’re fired.”
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