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“I can’t imagine someone like you sitting around browsing a black-and-white photo album of women in lingerie.”

He moved in closer, and the waft of his aftershave did amazing things to my lady parts. “I’ve suddenly developed a keen interest in boudoir photography.”

Stay focused.

Gripping my camera, I walked closer to the water’s edge and pointed to a spot near the rocks with pretty trees in the distant background.

“Stand over there and pretend you’re looking at something extraordinary.”

He walked over to the spot, looking relaxed and sexy in the athletic top, shorts, and sandals. The shaggy brown hair lightened in the sunlight. Even in casual clothes, he made my heart sigh. How could someone be that gorgeous?

“I don’t need to pretend.” He stared right at me, and my core tightened.

“Turn your face slightly toward the water.” I jerked my chin toward the lake.

He did as I asked, and the camera loved him. He was a beautiful man, with a natural ability to pose.

For the next twenty minutes, he wore several activewear and footwear collections. We only had a few styles left to be photographed. Part of me was relieved, while another part wanted to prolong the session further. I didn’t understand myself. Moments ago, I wanted to rush this photo session so I could rush back to my life—even if it was filled with anxiety. At least right now I wasn’t thinking about responsibilities and paying medical bills. This man was making me think about inappropriate things, which was the perfect escape.

Every time he looked into my camera, I felt as if he were looking rightintome, seeing all my dreams, secrets, and flaws. My heart shifted a little. This man could speak with one look. I wasn’t immune to him.

He has a beautiful girlfriend, Kiera.He probably had ten of them waiting for him in different hotels. Women threw themselves at rich men—handsome rich doctors.

But why was he flirting with me?

Because you’re number eleven.

Hating the thought, I bit the inside of my mouth. I didn’t want to throw myself at anyone.

You had one night with him.

Thatdidn’t qualify as throwing myself at him. We had been influenced by inexplicable passion incited by a little alcohol, an elegant setting, and the need for relaxation after several stressful days of hard work.

It meant nothing.

I sighed, knowing I was lying to myself. It had meant more than I expected.

Wanting a different angle of the scenery, I glanced around and landed on an idea. “Can you walk along the shore and head over to that big rock? Act as though you’re enjoying the outdoors.”

“I love the outdoors. There’s no need to pretend,” he said as he walked slowly for me to snap several pictures.

I felt like I was intruding in his private moment with nature. There was an interesting rhythm between us as I followed him along the shore with my camera. He walked along the edge of the lake, kicking up water, admiring the natural scenery. When a bird flew by, he glanced up, staring at it. I didn’t know how many times my fingers clicked on the button and the shutter went crazy in my camera. I got more pictures than necessary.

When he turned to look at me, contemplation and mystery radiated from his face, mesmerizing me. I couldn’t wait to get back to my cabin to download all the pictures onto my computer. I’d probably spend all night ogling the images.

There was something about his contemplative look that tugged at my heart. I saw sadness, hope, and something I couldn’t decipher. A picture could capture a thousand words, and in this moment, he gave me a story I wanted to know more about.

I couldn’t deny my attraction to him. But right now, he called to me from a different place.

FitFlex wanted me to capture him in their new shorts, made of cutting-edge fabric that allowed the body to cool faster than the other brands. So I had Forrest remove his shirt.Bad idea.Very bad idea.

My heart knocked against my chest at the marvelous sight. The olive skin glistened from the sun. His pecks and abs made him look like some warrior god. The muscles in my inner thighs flexed, and tingles skipped around my body in celebration. It should be illegal for someone to have abs like his. How many hours had he spent at the gym? My mouth watered from the well-defined body. During our first encounter, I’d been busy doing other things and didn’t get to examine his fine body.

I wanted to touch his abdomen and run my fingers along the grooves that held secrets and sin. Yes, this man held a story I wanted to hear.

He smirked as though he knew I was touching him with my eyes.

“Who taught you how to pose?” I asked, trying to distract myself from ogling.