Until Sanzo injected her wound with Novocain. The sharp prick of the needle into her skin made her see black spots. Nausea welled in her belly and she felt the blood drain to her feet.
Reese’s strong hand gripped hers and he kneeled beside her. “It’s okay, Frankie, he’s done.” He smoothed her hair back from her face and gently pushed her head down between her shaky knees. “Take a deep breath.”
She felt clammy, and foolish, but she sucked air into her lungs and slowly exhaled. The trick worked. Almost instantly she felt better. Slowly he sat her back up. Their eyes caught and locked.
“Good girl,
cara,”
Sanzo crooned. “Now let me cleanse the area and three small stitches should do it.
Yo promiso,
no pain.”
Chapter Seven
F or the second time that night, Frankie settled back into Reese’s SUV. The throb in her arm dissipated thanks to the pill her uncle and Reese insisted she take. At first she’d been wary of Reese’s concern, sure he was out to take advantage of her, but she hurt, inside and out.
In less than nine hours, she’s been threatened by her brother, shot at, stitched up, and now she was going to spend the night with a man she’d only met a few hours ago. A girl had the right to some narcotically induced help.
If she wasn’t smack dab in the middle of the situation, she wouldn’t believe it.
As if her eyes were the lens of a camera, Frankie looked over at Reese’s classically honed profile. A shot of adrenaline in fused her system. Her artist’s eye could find no fault with the image before her. She’d definitely use the sexy shadowed angle. An idea sparked with that thought. What about a lead-up? A teaser to the reader in the months prior to the anniversary edition? Could she play it out, and segue into the centerfold issue? Did she have the time? It would be close, very close.
“What do you think of us keeping you in the shadows for an issue or two, each time showing just a little bit more? We’ll reveal you one scrumptious inch at a time.”
Reese looked at her as if she’d just grown a second head.
Ignoring his expression, she grew more excited. “I can do shadow body and face shots, we’ll let the ladies get a peek of you each month, whetting their appetite for more, until the February issue, when we’ll go full frontal and full face!”
A new round of adrenaline pumped through her as the ideas formed. The idea of stripping Reese stitch by stitch sent her pulse racing. “It’s genius! Why didn’t I think of this earlier?”
Immediately she regretted her outburst.
“Look, Reese, I need to know up front if we’re on the same page here.”
Reese shot her a puzzled look before focusing back on the highway. “Be specific.”
Frankie sucked the bottom corner of her lip between her teeth, then let go. If she told Reese she wanted complete secrecy, would he sell her out like Sean had, despite their contract?
“What?” Reese demanded. His harsh tone startled her.
“Per our contract, unless given specific written permission, you cannot disclose any information regarding this shoot or
Skin.”
“I see we trust each other.”
“The only trust we need is between model and camera.”
He nodded but kept silent, his eyes on the road. In a show of truce, she reached over and touched his bicep, his hard muscles bunching under her palm. He cast her a scowl, and she withdrew her hand.
“It won’t work,” he said. “I’m not going to be around for months.”
“You don’t need to be. I have severe time constraints right now. I can get all of the shots I need in two weeks. We’ll do location shots. A day in the life of Mr. Skin.”
Reese groaned. “No way. No location. Studio only.”
“Yes way. Your contract states very simply, you go where I want you to go and take off what I tell you to take off. Consider your ass mine for the next two weeks.”
At his continued silence and obvious rancor, Frankie filled him in on a few more facts. “First thing
Reese’s strong hand gripped hers and he kneeled beside her. “It’s okay, Frankie, he’s done.” He smoothed her hair back from her face and gently pushed her head down between her shaky knees. “Take a deep breath.”
She felt clammy, and foolish, but she sucked air into her lungs and slowly exhaled. The trick worked. Almost instantly she felt better. Slowly he sat her back up. Their eyes caught and locked.
“Good girl,
cara,”
Sanzo crooned. “Now let me cleanse the area and three small stitches should do it.
Yo promiso,
no pain.”
Chapter Seven
F or the second time that night, Frankie settled back into Reese’s SUV. The throb in her arm dissipated thanks to the pill her uncle and Reese insisted she take. At first she’d been wary of Reese’s concern, sure he was out to take advantage of her, but she hurt, inside and out.
In less than nine hours, she’s been threatened by her brother, shot at, stitched up, and now she was going to spend the night with a man she’d only met a few hours ago. A girl had the right to some narcotically induced help.
If she wasn’t smack dab in the middle of the situation, she wouldn’t believe it.
As if her eyes were the lens of a camera, Frankie looked over at Reese’s classically honed profile. A shot of adrenaline in fused her system. Her artist’s eye could find no fault with the image before her. She’d definitely use the sexy shadowed angle. An idea sparked with that thought. What about a lead-up? A teaser to the reader in the months prior to the anniversary edition? Could she play it out, and segue into the centerfold issue? Did she have the time? It would be close, very close.
“What do you think of us keeping you in the shadows for an issue or two, each time showing just a little bit more? We’ll reveal you one scrumptious inch at a time.”
Reese looked at her as if she’d just grown a second head.
Ignoring his expression, she grew more excited. “I can do shadow body and face shots, we’ll let the ladies get a peek of you each month, whetting their appetite for more, until the February issue, when we’ll go full frontal and full face!”
A new round of adrenaline pumped through her as the ideas formed. The idea of stripping Reese stitch by stitch sent her pulse racing. “It’s genius! Why didn’t I think of this earlier?”
Immediately she regretted her outburst.
“Look, Reese, I need to know up front if we’re on the same page here.”
Reese shot her a puzzled look before focusing back on the highway. “Be specific.”
Frankie sucked the bottom corner of her lip between her teeth, then let go. If she told Reese she wanted complete secrecy, would he sell her out like Sean had, despite their contract?
“What?” Reese demanded. His harsh tone startled her.
“Per our contract, unless given specific written permission, you cannot disclose any information regarding this shoot or
Skin.”
“I see we trust each other.”
“The only trust we need is between model and camera.”
He nodded but kept silent, his eyes on the road. In a show of truce, she reached over and touched his bicep, his hard muscles bunching under her palm. He cast her a scowl, and she withdrew her hand.
“It won’t work,” he said. “I’m not going to be around for months.”
“You don’t need to be. I have severe time constraints right now. I can get all of the shots I need in two weeks. We’ll do location shots. A day in the life of Mr. Skin.”
Reese groaned. “No way. No location. Studio only.”
“Yes way. Your contract states very simply, you go where I want you to go and take off what I tell you to take off. Consider your ass mine for the next two weeks.”
At his continued silence and obvious rancor, Frankie filled him in on a few more facts. “First thing
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