Captured by You (One Night of Passion 1.60)
“The diner closes on Sundays at noon,” she said.
“I’ll pick you up at your house then. Where do you live?”
“No,” she said, blushing when she realized how abrupt she sounded. Derek was gone for several days. She didn’t entirely trust herself to meet with Chance in the confines of her empty house. Not after that kiss.
She glanced back cautiously at her three customers and lowered her voice. “Just meet me here. I have some work to do after the diner closes. Say around four o’clock? It ought to be cooling off a little by the time we get to the farm. I’ll be able to show you the places we want featured in the photos for the brochure.”
He nodded, his eyelids narrowing on her. “And you’ll think about things between now and then?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Sherona replied with a matter-of-fact manner she was far from feeling. She turned away from him and started to prepare her orders.
She doubted she’d do much else but think about his offer for the next twenty-four hours.
Chapter Three
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 c
ome 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.