I laughed as I waited for Alix’s self-control to break and join in. Because it had to be a joke. While I knew my build might be good for modeling sportswear or children’s clothes, I was at least eight inches too short for any photographer to look my way.

But he wasn’t laughing or even cracking a smile now. All he was doing was looking at me with those eyes. That steady gray gaze that seemed to be waiting for me to realize that he was serious.

Fuck.

He was serious.

The laugh died in my throat even as my pulse raced. This wasn’t possible. I had to be reading him wrong. Or maybe he was one of those total pricks who got off on cruel jokes. Because there was no way he meant that he wanted me to be a model.

I liked to think I had a fair grasp on my qualities, mentally and physically. I didn’t think I was ugly, but I knew the difference between cute and beautiful. And I knew that strength and independence wasn’t what most men found attractive. They definitely didn’t want pseudo-sexy pictures of pint-sized tomboys.

Short girls were supposed to play up their curves or show a lot of skin. Or both. Tall ones who were slender showed off their long legs and the fact that they didn’t always need to wear a bra. Slinky dresses with high hemlines and low necklines came in all sizes. Makeup. Feminine haircuts. High heels. Jewelry. Maybe a sexy tattoo.

Everything women did was supposed to express our sexuality, make us sensual. We were supposed to be attractive, even when downplaying the physical. And the girls who didn’t follow those rules, regardless of how they looked, were somehow less. Dismissed by the majority.

I could own my intelligence, my strength, who I was. But that didn’t mean I was sexy, no matter how much the media liked to say that confidence was sexy. The two guys I’d slept with hadn’t seen me that way. There was no chance that after a week, a man like Alix would see what they hadn’t.

“You made your point,” I said finally. “I don’t know enough about photography or modeling to make any suggestions.”

“That’s not what I said.” He took a step toward me, his gaze moving slowly down my body.

I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the heat seeping across my skin. I’d never had anyone look at me like that before. Like they could see every flaw and imperfection, but that it only made me more interesting instead of less desirable.

“You were right,” he repeated as his eyes met mine, held them. “I thought I was trying a different approach, but all I’d done was change props. The subject stayed the same, and that was a problem. I don’t need someone who looks like Giselle.”

I gave what I hoped was a self-deprecating smile. “Well, I definitely fit that description.”

His expression changed, and for the first time since I’d come to work for him, I felt like he was seeing me. Really seeing me, not just acknowledging my presence. A genuine smile curved his mouth, making my stomach squirm in a way that wasn’t appropriate for our employer-employee relationship.

“Different isn’t always a bad thing, Sine.”

I shrugged, unable to read what he was thinking. “It might not be bad, but it certainly is a risk, and one I don’t understand you wanting to take. There’s no logical reason you’re asking me to model for you.”

“I’ve been photographing Giselle for almost two weeks now,” he said. “And before her, there were Lorna, Madison, Nessa, dozens over the past ten years. They all had different coloring and body types, and all had been modeling for at least a year or two. They sat where I wanted them to sit, moved, turned, posed. Complete professionals.”

I nodded even though I had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going.

“I’ve sold probably hundreds of photographs of models like Giselle, but somewhere along the way, they all started to look alike.” He closed the rest of the distance between us until I had to tip my head back to see his face. “I need someone new, someone different.”

Different. That was me for certain.

“Unless,” he paused, considering for a moment before going on, “you’re not up for the challenge.”

My eyes narrowed, and that part of me that had always pushed me to keep up with guys who were older and bigger flared up. “I have six brothers who spent most of my childhood telling me I was too young or too small to do what they were doing. There’s no challenge I’m not up to beating.”

Alix’s eyes gleamed. “Glad to hear it. I’ll go get things set up. Finish your lunch and then come out so I can give you your costume to change into.”

He walked out of the office, leaving me staring at him and wondering what in the hell I’d just gotten myself into. I hadn’t been thinking about actually doing it. I’d just never been able to back down when someone said I couldn’t do something. Mam had always told me that taking a dare would land me in trouble someday. I knew for a fact she hadn’t foreseen that the trouble in question would be me posing for erotic photographs.

Neither had I, but a part of me wanted to know if I could see what he saw in me. Another part was running through all the possible arguments I could use to get out of what was going to be an incredibly awkward situation.