Page 32 of The Survivor
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” she teased when she heard the exasperation in his tone.
He thought about it for a moment. “You’re right. It wasn’t as bad as I make it out to be.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “Mark, my brother, would force us to play Monopoly, and he’d go around the board buying every property until he ran out of money in the first ten minutes. My sister Jess cheated up a storm, stealing hundreds from the bank when she thought we weren’t looking.”
“And your parents?”
Blake laughed. “Dad would fall asleep before he reached Go for the first time, and Mom pretended to like the game when really she just liked spending time with us. And me, well, I’d always win, of course.”
“Of course.” She didn’t miss the fondness in his tone when he spoke of his family, and a pang of longing tugged at her belly. She averted her eyes before he could see the sadness in them.
Apparently she didn’t break the eye contact fast enough. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he murmured.
She sighed. “I’m just envious, that’s all. Beau and I never had any family gatherings like that growing up.”
“Your file said your parents died when you were sixteen. That should have been plenty of time for family togetherness.”
“Not really. My parents were both lawyers. They owned their own firm, and they spent seven days a week in the office. Beau and I had a nanny.” She laughed softly. “Her name was Hilda, and she was an absolute nightmare. Her idea of fun was making us help her wash the windows. But she spent time with us at least, which is more than I can say for our parents.”
Blake reached out and took her hand. She glanced at it for a moment but said nothing. It seemed like a subconscious moveon his part, and she liked the feel of his warm fingers against her palm too much to draw attention to it and risk him taking his hand away.
“That must have been tough,” he said.
“It was.” She shot him a sideways glance. “But I had my brother. He’s five years older, so he thought I was a pain in the ass most of the time, but he was always there for me when I needed him. After our parents died he even put off going to college so he could live at home with me until I finished high school.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He’s an artist. A painter. And argue with him all you want, but he’ll never consider any of the photographs I’ve posed for as art. He always hated my career.”
“Did you like it, though? Modeling?” He rubbed the inside of her palm with his thumb. She took a sharp intake of breath. Oh, God. His touch felt like heaven against her cold hands. She wanted so badly to lace her fingers through his, but held back, afraid if she did he’d become rigid and professional again.
“I liked it a lot, actually. I started out doing catalogue work, seasonal stuff for department stores, that kind of thing. Then my agent got me a go-see for a swimsuit magazine, and my career took off.” She grinned. “I was lucky enough to travel to some incredible places. Gosh, I can’t even begin to describe it. I remember this one shoot in Bora Bora, a rock-climbing spread—wearing a bikini, mind you—and it was unbelievable.”
He looked surprised. “Wait, that was an actual mountain you were on? In that picture with the yellow bikini?”
Pleasure suffused her entire body. “You saw the spread?”
He actually blushed, which made her heart do a couple of jumping jacks. There was nothing sexier than a man who was man enough to blush.
“I may have come across it,” he said grudgingly.
“Admit it,” she teased. “You were a fan.” Her eyes twinkled. “I could sign an autograph for you, if you’d like.”
He let out a laugh and held his palm over his heart. “An autograph from a real-life swimsuit model? I’d be honored.”
“Now you’re making fun of me,” she grumbled. She gave him a wry look. “You probably think what I did was sleazy, huh? Putting myself on display like that.”
“Sleazy? No. Sexy? Yes, ma’am.”
Her stomach did a happy little flip. “What if I told you I only started modeling to stick it to my parents?”
“Was that the case?”
She nodded. “They were already gone by the time a modeling agent discovered me, but it didn’t matter. All my life I wanted them to notice me, and they never did. When I told them I had no interest in going to law school, it got even worse. Beau had already disappointed them by deciding to be an artist, so I guess my decision not to go into law was the final straw. That’s when I became completely invisible.”
“I can’t even fathom how you could be invisible to anyone.”
“Well, I was.” She shrugged. “And then I started modeling and suddenly everyone noticed me. I loved the attention, loved the sense of importance that came with it, even if I was only important to a few designers and some drooling men.” Her voice hardened. “Until the wrong person noticed me.”
She stalked past him, nearly slipping on the frost-covered grass. Blake hurried after her and pressed both hands on her shoulders to keep her steady.
