Skin, Page 3

  “Oh. Those.” Robin sighed heavily. “Yeah, so not sure about that.”

  Part of the assignment instructions had been to keep the assignments private from the rest of the group so as not to be influenced by anyone else’s thinking.

  Robin attacked her fries with more force than necessary. She’d sat where her scarred face would be out of the public eye. The restaurant rumbled in a nice enough way to say it was busy but lacked the overpowering-noise element of being bustling.

  It suited Tania fine. She could be lost in her own thoughts without anyone noticing.

  Then Kane walked in. No, Kane didn’t walk anywhere. He strode in, determined, loose-gaited, and ready for anything. Her photographer instincts kicked in. Kane definitely had presence. She could imagine screen producers loving him. He didn’t just take over a space; he owned it.

  Her fingers itched to run to her room for her camera.

  Her hands actually clenched the table to hold herself back. With an inward shudder, she dragged her gaze away and caught Robin’s wide-eyed stare.

  She flushed as heat raced up her cheeks. “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Oh, don’t be. I would love an explanation though.” Robin looked at her expectantly.

  Tania shook her head. “Wish I could. It’s part of the assignment we’re doing.”

  “Uh-huh.” Robin snorted lightly and dove back into her french fries. “Must be one hell of an assignment.”

  The teasing tone made Tania’s cheeks heat up again. She stuffed her mouth with salad so as to not have to answer. Lunch finished quickly. By the time they made their way back to the seminar room, Jenna was already getting the first groups started.

  When it was Tania’s turn, Jenna said, “Kane is going to maintain what would be his usual routine for the afternoon. This is where you will start. You need to come up with a title, a theme, and a series you can explain to me – if an explanation is necessary – of what and why and how.”

  Kane snorted. Tania spun around in surprise. She hadn’t heard him come in. She frowned up at him, and he stared back, one eyebrow raised.

  She wanted to ask what the hell he’d be doing for his half of this assignment besides lazing around all afternoon while she worked but held back. She had to trust that Jenna, who knew why Kane was here, had plans that would help him, too.

  “We’ll check back here at four. If you need any help, you can text or call me. I’ll be in the morning room working.” Jenna gave them a bright smile and walked away.

  Damn.

  Kane never said a word. Actually, she rarely heard him speak at all. She cleared her throat and said, “I have to get my camera from my room. What are you going to do?”

  He stared at her then looked around. “If I were at home, I would be doing yard work. Here at a hotel, I might do a bit of sightseeing, watch a movie, go to the gym…”

  “And your choice right now?”

  He ran his fingers through his short, wavy hair and sighed. “I think I’d like to get the hell out. So a walk around the university sounds about right.”

  She brightened. “I love the university grounds. Perfect. I’ll go get my camera and meet you in the lobby.” She took off.

  *

  Kane watched her run away. She was brighter, happier than he’d seen her yet. How bad could wasting a few hours pretending to be a tourist be? Especially with Tinkerbelle at his side?

  He had no idea how this assignment was going to help him.

  As he turned to stare at the empty room, he recognized Jenna standing off to the side watching him, waiting, as if she knew.

  What the hell was he doing here? He looked at her. “How does being a model help me?” The derision in his voice brought a smile to her face, which was not quite the reaction he was hoping for.

  “I think it’s going to help a lot, actually.” The serious tone surprised him.

  “So me going out and being a tourist is going to help me deal with my anger issues?” He shook his head and started to walk away in disgust. “What a waste of time.”

  “Really? Except look at where your anger issues sprang from.”

  He stalled and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I prefer to not think about that time of my life, thank you.”

  “And that’s why the anger. You need to examine it. The pain is more painful because you keep it alive…whereas the anger is a blind…for something else.” She paused then added gently, “Maybe for fear.”

  He spun around, feeling the familiar anger vibrating through his system. He glared at her. “I have to keep it alive, or else I will forget.”

  “No,” she said, her voice gentle but determined. “You need to understand you are keeping the anger as justification for not letting anyone else get close. Never again.”

  He stared at her, hating the resonating truth to her words. “Easier said than done,” he muttered.

  “Not easy. None of this is easy. But for a full life you can enjoy again, it’s necessary.”

  “And playing the tourist is going to do that?”

  “Interesting you chose being a tourist. Casual. Distant. Disconnected.”

  He reared back. “What? You said to do what you would normally do. I can hardly go mow the lawn now, can I?”

  Those all-too-knowing eyes studied him. He wanted to squirm and held himself strong against it. He was no schoolboy.

  “There are other activities you could choose, and you don’t have to play tourist all afternoon.”

  She reached out and patted him on the shoulder “You’ll figure it out.” And she walked away, leaving him wondering what the hell she was up to.

  He pulled out his phone and texted his brother. Waste of time and money.

  As he closed his phone, an overly bright, I’m-determined-to-do-this voice called out to him, “Are you ready?”

  Knowing she couldn’t see him, he rolled his eyes and turned around to face her. He could only hope she wasn’t going to be wearing half-dozen cameras around her neck, or they’d really look like a pair of damn tourists.

  Instead, she had a single black fanny pouch on her tiny waist and a single camera around her neck. He knew nothing about cameras, but it didn’t look to be a cheap, casual deal. She just might be a serious photographer, and for some reason, that made him feel better. He didn’t know what she did for a living or what her education program was. He’d never seen her on campus except at Jenna’s lectures. Still, she put her money into good equipment, and he could respect that.

  If he had to play the gallant knight for a couple of days, whatever. And if a part of him wanted to give the no-refund policy of the damn contract a closer look, he pushed it to the back of his mind. What Jenna asked was impossible, but his pain didn’t have to dim whatever problem Tinkerbelle was working on. He’d always been good at playing the stoic role. He could do this.

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  Tania understood the camera, just not the subject. Kane was difficult; a man of secrets. Getting him to be natural was the key. He was doing the posing-tourist role, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Still, it would take some time to find the real him inside.

  She let him walk ahead on the cobblestone. There were intricate patterns worked into the street, and her camera loved them. Whenever he looked away or something caught Kane’s eye, she tried to capture him.

  But she didn’t like the results. She’d have to ditch most of them at this rate.

  “Coffee?” he asked hopefully, pointing to a small bistro off to the side.

  “Tea?” she suggested, not knowing what they’d talk about.

  He shrugged and led the way over. “I’ll go in and order.”

  Happy to let him take charge, she nodded and took pictures of him walking into the tiny shop. He had a hell of a butt. What she wouldn’t do to get him in tight boxers. The magic her camera could work then… Her thought was immediately followed by shock. Had she really just thought that? About a perfect stranger?
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  He returned in a few minutes with two mugs. “Hope this is okay. Black tea and black coffee.”

  She fished the tea bag out quickly, not wanting to have it too strong if there wasn’t milk and not wanting to go in and get milk even if it was available. For a therapy seminar, so far she’d cried no tears and had yet to feel under the gun with questions or swamped by emotions. She felt odd, not herself. Normally, she’d have just asked him to get the tea the way she liked it, but not this time.

  Was it doing any good?

  As if reading her thoughts, Kane said, “Weirdest therapy session I’ve ever done.”

  She laughed. “Exactly what I was thinking. I feel like this assignment is supposed to do something, but we are completely missing the mark.”

  “Are we?” Moodily, he stared into the deepest, blackest mug of coffee she’d ever seen. “Seems like a complete waste of time so far.”

  She leaned forward. “That’s what I mean. We’re out here sightseeing when we should be working on healing.”

  He leaned back at her emphatic comment. “You think we shouldn’t be out here.”

  She shrugged and looked around. “I can’t help but feel like we are deliberately avoiding something. Or aren’t ready yet to get too close to the real issues.”

  “Really?” he snorted. “What real issues? I highly doubt you want to share your issues with me. And I know I’m not going to. So what else are we supposed to be doing here?”

  She stared at him, realizing she could share, but she didn’t want to. And he was right; if they weren’t going to help each other, what was the point? Unless one of them could help the other, and maybe in the helping, the other could be healed a little as well.

  “Did you research Jenna’s seminar?” She smiled at his emphatic nod.

  “Hell yes.”

  “And read the comments, reviews people had left?” When he nodded again, she said, “And do you recognize our conversation is similar to many that were written on her website? And I quote, ‘I started the journey expecting to find the opposite of what I got. Thank God.’ Or ‘When I first started this seminar, I thought I’d signed up for the wrong one. It was nothing like what I’d expected.’”

  He stared at her then leaned back, dropping his gaze to his cup. Speaking slowly, he said, “The one that resonated with me was, ‘I don’t understand the how or the why or the process that happened, but healing has started…’”

  “Oh, I like that.” Contemplative, she stared around as the traffic picked up slightly as more people came looking for sustenance. “I’m supposed to find a journey with you as my subject. I don’t understand really, but I’m willing to trust a little here. Outside, it feels like it’s an impersonal journey.” She stopped and frowned. “I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, but say we were at home and you had the week off – what would you be doing?”

  “Refinishing my bathroom.”

  The answer came so fast it surprised her.

  He grinned with real humor, and his face came alive. She stared, entranced, as he spoke. “It’s been the plan for a while. Now if you were to say, if I had a couple days off, what I would be doing, I guess I’d be working out, catching up on yard work, lazing around the house, and watching some classic movies.”

  As his mouth moved, her eyes caught on the lean muscles that formed and reformed in perfect symmetry. He was lean and hard and spoke about a world she didn’t understand. And she was suddenly afraid she just might know what Jenna had been thinking.

  And hoped not.

  She raised her gaze to Kane’s and watched light play across his features as his eyes darkened. He leaned closer, his whole body language shifting, softening. Damn, she wanted to photograph him.

  “What’s up, Tinkerbelle?”

  That startled a laugh out of her. “Tinkerbelle?”

  He waved an arm at her. “You’re tiny, delicate, and look like a good wind would blow you away.” He shrugged. “It just came to me.”

  And something just came to me, she thought. Sending up a prayer that she had this right and Kane wouldn’t find her off the wall, she said, “I know this might sound a bit weird, but…” she took a deep breath, and then added, “You have a very photogenic face.” She motioned to his biceps. They bulged and relaxed almost as if he was bunching to a tune in his mind. “In fact, your muscles are really interesting.” As his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, she quickly corrected, “For the camera, I mean.”

  She looked away for a moment before forcing herself back on target. “I guess what I meant to say is that skin and muscles, how people move, have always fascinated me. If you are okay with it,” she took a deep breath before she dropped her gaze to the table, wishing it were wider, deeper, higher – anything to increase that barrier – and said in a rush, the words tripping over themselves before she could take them back, “I’d like to take pictures as you work out.”

  Her shoulders and chest collapsed, completely empty. There, she’d done it, and he hadn’t laughed yet. She peeked at him from under her lashes to see him still staring at her. Shock turned to consideration, then to contemplation. She watched him throw down the napkin clenched in his fists. “Sure. Whatever.”

  Whatever? Did that mean he didn’t mind? Or he was okay with her off-the-wall request? Or that he’d do anything to get through this assignment so he could go home? And did any of his reasons matter?

  He did need to be comfortable with her doing this, or else it wouldn’t work. The camera would pick up every nuance of his moods, his emotions. That was the thing about the images. They didn’t lie.

  Raw footage caught the truth. Sometimes more truth than anyone cared to have revealed. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if it’s not okay, I’d rather hear the truth now.”

  He was watching the coffee swirl in his mug. After a moment, he raised his gaze to hers. There was a blind over his feelings, a sense of detached mockery coming through. She winced. “Okay, so it’s not a good idea. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “No.” He reached out to stop her as she’d instinctively pushed her chair back. “Wait.”

  She stilled as the heat of his hand soaked into her chilled skin, and she slowly sat back down. “I’m not trying to push your boundaries. I just thought this would be something I could do that would be within the parameters of the assignment and be something I would like to do. But I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

  “And you can’t.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “But isn’t doing what we’re uncomfortable doing part of why we’re here?”

  “True.”

  “Are you taking an easy way out by doing something like this?” he asked. “Where’s the uncomfortable part in all this for you if you want to do it?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t actually realized I’d enjoy documenting the process until I recognized how much my eye was caught by your muscles.” She reached out and laid her finger on the cord, tightening and relaxing on the back of his hand as he tapped the top of the table. “You’re very mobile. I mean muscles shift, skin moves, light plays over all of you in different ways.” She gave herself a mental nudge to pull back.

  She was fascinated by what she was seeing, and she desperately wanted to do this project now she had a topic she could hold on to. She hated to admit it, but there was a solid chance she needed to do this. Maybe Jenna was right. “But it’s your body, and it’s your personal space. I didn’t mean to intrude.” That she had was already incredible. She was normally the mouse at the door waiting to run at the first hint of discord. Instead, here she was actually asking this super-male physique to do something he didn’t likely want to do.

  “It’s a stupid idea,” she said suddenly. “Forget it.”

  “No, I won’t forget it.” He motioned to her tea. “Settle down and drink your tea while I mull it over.”

  She picked up her cup and waited impatiently.

  *

  Kane studied the disgruntled lo
ok on Tania’s face. Tinkerbelle had a temper. Well, so did he. She’d seen him blow at Jenna earlier, but that had merely been a trickle of what it could be. Still, she hadn’t seemed phased by it. He’d half-expected her to have run from the room screaming, but instead, she’d sat there with a grin on her face.

  Someone around her had a temper for her to be so blasé. Interesting.

  Now, did he have a problem with her taking pictures while he lifted weights? He couldn’t think of a decent reason to stop her, especially when she’d lit up at the idea like she’d been covered in fairy dust. He hadn’t ever been photographed working out. It was hot, hard, and sweaty work. He didn’t go to the gym to look for girls. He went with a trainer for some serious, anger-releasing work until he was dead-tired from the workouts, and there was nothing pretty about that.

  He stared morosely into his empty mug. There was nothing pretty about any of this bullshit. As much as he couldn’t say he was comfortable with the concept, he’d had a few friends who had participated in similar photo shoots, so it was more his comfort level at question here.

  “As long as you don’t post these pictures online and they are only for the project, then I am good with it.” He looked up to stare into her eyes. “That goes for all the pictures you’re taking. I’m the model, but I’m not giving you the rights to the images beyond the scope of this class.”

  She smiled, and the relief in her eyes was obvious.

  She said, “I won’t. These pictures are just for the project, and if there are one or two I really like, I’ll ask you for permission if there is anything I want to use them for.” She laughed. “What am I talking about? I don’t do anything with my photography. I don’t post them online at all.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe it’s something I should consider.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t. You appear to be serious about it.”

  Her hand instinctively went to the camera around her neck. “It’s just a hobby, something to keep my mind and hands active.”

  He stood up. “Kind of like my workouts. Come on, let’s hit the gym at the hotel. You can take pictures, and I can work on some of this restlessness.”