Sherona stood back and watched as Chance Hathoway absorbed the interior of the Food for Body and Soul co-op store, where they sold a small portion of the food they grew and processed. He’d done the same thing when she’d escorted him around the farm. She couldn’t think of another word besides absorb to describe his absolute focus as he took in his surroundings. She had the strangest feeling he saw things that were right in front of both of them to which Sherona was completely blind.
Thankfully, since picking her up earlier this evening, he hadn’t mentioned the racy proposal he’d made at the diner. At least, she thought she was grateful for that. As she spent more time with him, however, growing to respect his solemn focus on his task, his pleasant conversation and effortless male sexuality, she was staring to wonder. His apparent ease at ignoring the fact that he’d photographed her nude and touching herself, not to mention his outrageous offer to photograph her doing even more sexy things, had started to grate on her in the past hour and a half. She’d never better comprehended the cliché about ignoring the white elephant in the room.
As he walked toward her with a sexy predator’s stalk, his sandy blond hair falling onto his forehead and a small, intimate smile shaping his mouth, she wished he’d just pounce the topic on her once and for all and end her anxious anticipation about what the hell she was going to say.
It shocked her to the core that she was considering granting his request. She had girlfriends who would be scandalized by Chance’s offer—not to mention her desire to take it—but they hadn’t seen those photographs. Naysayers wouldn’t have understood the incredible knowledge and power that had gone through her, catching a glimpse of her secret, sexual, true self portrayed in Chance’s photos.
“I thought it’d also be nice to include a photograph of the river,” she said, waving in the direction of the woods lining the Ohio River. “The view down by the water is really pretty, and it would give the feel of Body and Soul’s natural habitat and roots. But you’re the photographer,” she added hastily when he didn’t immediately respond. “I’ll leave it up to you whether or not that would be a good addition to the brochure.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” he said. He reached into the pocket of the simple crew neck T-shirt he wore and grabbed his sunglasses. “Besides, you don’t have to convince me about including some natural photography. Why don’t you show me the river?”
She nodded at Louis Vanhard, a long-haired, longtime Vulture’s Canyon resident who was manning the cash register, and walked out of the store. They followed a forest path that led from the parking lot of the co-op to the river. The minute they entered the dark, still woods, Sherona felt an amplified awareness of Chance following her on the path. She turned to face him when they reached the clearing at the edge of the wide, flowing river.
“You’re right,” he said, glancing around. He removed his sunglasses and squinted at the opposite shore, then looked all around the area, as if gauging the light. “This will make a nice addition to the brochure. I should photograph in early morning, I think.” He put his glasses back on and turned to her.
“May I ask . . . Why are you doing this?” she said.
“Why am I doing what?”
“Why are you taking time out of your schedule to come to a tiny, no-account town like Vulture’s Canyon and take photos for free?”
“It’s a good cause, isn’t it? Healthy, nutritious food for needy families?”
Sherona just nodded, her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “You’re a philanthropist, then?”
“I’m not a do-gooder, if that’s what you mean. There are a few causes I feel strongly about, though. I’m a bit of a greenie, truth be told.”
“A greenie?”
“You know . . . an environmentalist. I’ve photographed the most beautiful landscapes in the world. It’s hard not to witness nature in all her glory and not want to preserve it in any feeble way I can,” he said, putting his sunglasses back on. A prickle of awareness went through her. She couldn’t see through his mirrored lenses, but she had the distinct impression his gaze had just slid down over her in appreciation.
“But you’re the heir to a huge fortune. Don’t your personal convictions conflict with the fact that you’ll one day be the owner of a retail chain that epitomizes commercialization and the mighty dollar? What are you going to do when they come to you and tell you a portion of an Australian forest has to be mowed down to put up one of your stores?”
“I didn’t ask to be born into the situation I was,” he said levelly.
“So you plan to refuse your father’s legacy?”
“I didn’t say that. I just meant that my convictions are my own. I didn’t just come up with them in an adolescent rebellion against my dad’s lifestyle—or even if I did initially, my values have changed after my experiences traveling over the past fifteen years. I’ve seen things that have changed me on a permanent basis.”
Sherona was impressed by his quiet conviction. There hadn’t been an ounce of defensiveness to his tone.
“I admire you,” she said honestly after a moment. “I’m envious of all the places you’ve seen . . . all the things you’ve done. I always wanted to see the world. Travel.” She sighed and looked out at the glistening river. “Vulture’s Canyon has been the limit of my world.”
“That’s not such a terrible thing,” he said, joining her in admiring the sun-soaked, sylvan scene. “It’s beautiful country, and the folks around here seem like they’re good people.”
She gave him a cautious glance of respect. “That’s true. So . . . what will you do? About your father’s fortune?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.
He shrugged. “My dad’s got more bounce than a mob of kangaroos. He’ll be around for a long time. When I do eventually gain control of his company and money, I’ll make decisions about it based on who I am, not who he is.”
Sherona couldn’t help but smile incredulously. “And he knows this? Your dad?”
“Brandon C. Hathoway is no fool; he knows his own son. If he truly does leave me his fortune someday, he knows perfectly well his hard-earned money will end up in the hands of a tree-hugging no-hoper.”
She smiled at his accented version of no-hoper.
“He must really love you if that’s true.”
Chance shrugged. “I’m his only son. I care about the old man enough to leave him to his corporate piracy, and he cares about me enough to confine his lectures about my wastrel life to once a year at Christmas.”
“That sounds like a very mature relationship for two such different men.”
“What about you? Where are your parents?”
“Gone. They died in a car accident when I was eighteen and Derek was eight.”
His grin vanished. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It happened a long time ago. I miss them, though. Still. The diner was theirs. I’ve waitressed in it since I was twelve years old. I still feel them in there every time I walk through the door,” she reflected quietly.
“Did you raise Derek?”
“Yes.”
“No wonder you never left Vulture’s Canyon,” he said softly. “You never had much of a choice, I can imagine. Derek must be like a son to you as much as a brother. You became a parent at eighteen years old.”
“He is like a son. Luckily, he’s a wonderful person. I couldn’t have gotten any more fortunate, as unprepared as I was to parent him. What if he’d been a rebellious basket case, and there I was, a teenage guardian with no clue what I was doing? I could have scarred him for life. It didn’t turn out that way, thank God. Derek is thoughtful and smart and . . . just a great kid. He got straight A’s during his freshman year at Washington University in St. Louis. He’s in a very prestigious accounting program,” she said proudly.
“He seemed like a good guy when I met him. He certainly is protective of you.”
“What do you mean?” Sherona asked, turning toward him.
“I mean that he immediately put on his game face when I asked about you. He must be used to having the guys come nosing around his gorgeous sister.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Don’t be silly,” she muttered, studying her sandals pressing into the weeds beneath them. “There are only a handful of men around here, and I can assure you, they have better things to do than to ‘nose around’ me.”
He whipped off his glasses. She sensed his head next to her neck. She glanced sideways in surprise and saw his face hovered a mere inch from hers. His gaze speared her. He inhaled as if to catch her scent off her neck.
“I honestly can’t think of what activity would be more worthwhile than catching a nose-full of you, Sherona,” his voice rumbled, making her ear tickle. She just swallowed, his stare making her temporarily unable to speak or look away. “Did you think about what I asked you yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes,” Sherona murmured, her stare stuck on the amber dots in his eyes.
“I know you called Rill last night.”
She started slightly. She considered Rill a friend worthy of a confidence. “Did he tell you that?”
“No. I just happened to be passing the kitchen when I heard him say your name. Were you doing a reference check on my character, Sherona?” he asked, his lips twitching.
“Does it surprise you that I was, considering what you’re asking me to do?” For some reason, her words what you’re asking me to do caused a heavy heat to flow down over her belly and sex. Or maybe that was because she was inhaling his male scent.
“No. Better for you to find out firsthand from someone who’s known me for my entire adult life that I’m not a psycho,” he said, his low voice mesmerizing her. His gaze ran over her face. He stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders. The front of his body brushed against hers, the zipper of his canvas shorts bumping softly against her lower stomach. The tips of her breasts hardened against his ribs. A twinge of excitement went through her clit.
“How would Rill know if you’re a psycho in a sexual sense? I imagine you wouldn’t advertise it to the world, would you?” she said, lifting her face to his so that their mouths were only inches apart.
“No, I’m pretty private about sex. Besides, I guess it all depends on what you consider to be abnormal, doesn’t it?” he asked, surprising her.
She licked at her lower lip nervously. Here it was—the crux of the issue. “Yes, I suppose it does. So tell me what it is you plan to do besides take naked pictures of me.”
A smile ghosted his lips. He had a very sexy mouth, Sherona observed.
“You must have felt it—out by the lake the other day,” he said.
Her gaze skittered up to meet his stare. Had he sensed something similar to the electrical charge that had shot through her that evening by Orchard Lake? She saw the heat in his eyes and somehow thought he had.
“I thought it’d be exciting to take some fantasy photographs of you,” he said, his warm, fragrant breath fanning her lips.
“Whose fantasy are you referring to?”
He stepped even closer, his hands grasping more tightly at her shoulders. She felt his erection against her belly and was reminded of seeing its fullness press against the fabric of his shorts the other day. Hot, forbidden excitement pulsed at her core.
“Mine. I think you share it, though.”
“That’s rather presumptuous of you to assume, isn’t it?”
His brows went up at her challenge. “I’ll tell you what I had in mind for the photos, and you can tell me.”
Her breathing was suddenly shallow and erratic. Her nipples stiffened as they dragged against his torso. His thumbs circled on her shoulders in a massaging motion, distracting her even further.
“I was hoping you’d help me capture the essence of a fantasy,” he murmured. “A really hot one that I never had until I saw you at the edge of that lake the other day.”
She just looked at him in a silent challenge, trying to hide her soft panting and ignore the buzz of arousal at her clit.
“I’d like to photograph you somewhere private here in these woods. I want to make you look like a captive.”
“Captive,” Sherona repeated dryly, even though a surge of warmth had dampened her panties at the word.
He nodded, holding her stare. His hands moved as he began to languorously massage her back muscles. Distantly, she wondered if he was trying to relax her while he said such anxiety-provoking, exciting things.
“Yeah. An incredibly sexy one. I want to pretend that I’ve captured you and bound you and brought you to the woods for private ravishment,” he said, his eyes glowing with both amusement and heat.
“That’s how you want to photograph me? Nude and bound?”
“Yes,” he said, his gaze running over her face as if searching for her reaction. His small smile faded when she licked at her lower lip nervously.
“And . . . and what about the actual ravishment part?” she asked.
“That would be up to you. All of this is up to you. I’m not going to do anything unless you agree to it. I’ll stop whatever we’re doing the second you tell me to.” He dipped his head so that his mouth was a scant inch away from hers. She’d never known a man to appeal to her sense of smell more. She wanted to absorb his scent.
“Don’t you think that’s an awful lot to ask of me? I don’t even know you,” she whispered desperately. “What if . . . what if you do whatever you want when I’m bound and helpless?”
“I swear right here and now I’m not going to harm you. In fact, I want to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.” He studied her soberly in the brief silence that followed. “You heard from Rill that I’m an upstanding citizen—for the most part,” he added, giving her a small, concessionary smile. She couldn’t help but return it in a shaky fashion. “But what’s more, I think you trust me, Sherona. Instinctively. You trusted me not to attack you out there by the side of that lake. For a few seconds there, I think you more than trusted me. I think you liked having me see you in all your glory. And if you believe anything, believe this,” he said, his manner suddenly almost grim, he was so serious. “You are the most fuckingly glorious woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You really can’t blame me for wanting to capture you completely, can you?”
He dipped his head and seized her mouth with his own. A puff of suppressed air flew out of her lungs. Her arms snaked around his shoulders, and she participated in a kiss that struck her as both blisteringly hot and restrained.
Sherona wanted more—much more—but he lifted his head.
“What do you say, Sherona?”
She nodded once, her throat feeling tight.
His white teeth flashed in an unabashedly triumphant smile.
“Thank you. I have everything we need in the trunk of my car.”
Alarm zinged through her. “What . . . You want to do it now?”
“Yeah. The evening light is perfect. Do you know someplace really private? In the woods?”
“I . . .” She glanced around nervously. Her heart started to do a drumroll against her sternum. “Yes, I think so,” she said, anxiety edging her tone.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at his face and saw his warm appraisal.
“I’ll call Katie and Rill once we get to the car and tell them you and I plan to spend the evening together,” he said.
Sherona blinked when she understood the message behind his words. He was reassuring her safety by telling dependable, mutual friends they were together that evening. Not only she would know she was putting herself in his hands for the night; Katie and Rill would know, as well.
It shocked her a little to realize she trusted him—a stranger—so much that she hadn’t ever considered such a precaution.
She nodded once, and they walked toward the path hand in hand.