Page 25 of Lochlan

I move about, evaluating her through the camera lens, taking in the nuance of her face and body as I try to capture that one moment when she reveals herself to me. My instinct to create comes back like an old memory, reminding me who I was in Scotland even though that seems lifetimes ago. With my dark disposition, Granda should have banished me somewhere cold and bleak like eastern Europe, where we have interests. Instead, in a move that shows his true deviousness, I was sent to serve time in a land of sunny days and people who don't sound or think like me.

Kenzie is losing focus; she's relaxing her body to rest from the poses I've asked her to hold. “Drop your shoulder,” I say, keeping my voice low to relax her. Most people don't know how to move their body. Posing someone who is not a professional can be difficult. It takes a longer time for them to forget the camera is watching. Kenzie doesn't appear to have that problem. With a little encouragement, she gives me what I want. Although you can see she's still pissed, but that only makes it more interesting.

I pause when I need her in another position, and all the while I imagine tasting her lips, but it soon becomes more deviant and I imagine her body intertwined with mine, my cock taking pleasure in entering her wet pussy. It's at that moment that I need to turn away before the images overtake me. “Let's take a break for a few minutes,” I say.

Kenzie perches on the corner of the bed, facing away from me, while I walk back into the living room area to find my glass. I finish what's left in my glass and pour more in and down that. I should enjoy what I'm drinking, but I want a quick buzz. What I really want is the smooth taste of MacTavish whiskey. I sigh and knock back the last of the wine I poured, then glance at the bottle on my bedside table. There will be time for whiskey later when the night grows long and I can't sleep.

We've been at it for about forty-five minutes. I'm not sure if I've captured my vision. I won't know what this session has yielded until later, when I'm alone.

There's one more shot I need to capture before it's time to end this and send her on her way. “Take a break,” I call to her while I cap the lens of my camera. “Give me a minute while I set up for the final shot.” I place my camera down and rummage back in the closet. The 20” x 20” white cardboard I use when I teach my classes is just inside a cabinet. I uncap a black marker and write. When I'm satisfied, I walk back to Kenzie. She turns, folding her arms over her chest. “Here,” I say, presenting her with the cardboard. “Hold this up while I take a shot.” She takes the card from me and glances at the writing.

Her features harden into contained fury. “Are you serious?”

“I am. Those photos I took aren't enough to make you comply with my proposal, but this will, and it gives me assurance that you're not from the tabloids.”

I think she said “asshole” under her breath, but I can't be certain. No matter; if she wants to win that challenge, she needs to comply. “If you decide to renege on our deal, this will go up on social media. I'll label the photo with an appropriate caption. You can explain it any way you want, but remember one day you'll be after sponsorship, if you're not already pursuing that route. Companies don't like rogue athletes.”

I swipe my phone off the table for this session and adjust the settings. I think about turning on more light, but I decide I want this to look as gritty as possible. She's still staring at the card as I watch her through the viewfinder of the camera. “Do we still have a deal? If we do, then move back into position.” I point to a spot where she'll be partially in shadow. It's the exact image I want.

She holds the card up over her chest. “Oh no, lass, we need to see your bonnie face and those stunning tits.”

The card creeps down until it's just under her breasts. I take the shot, but at the last minute, she flips me off. I keep my frown tight, so no hint of the smile I want to give escapes. “Shall we try that again without a finger commentary?”

This time, I only get a defiant look, which is fine. It goes perfectly with the cardboard sign that reads: “I tried to use sex with Lochlan MacTavish to get an Olympic gold medal.”

“You can dress now. I'm done.” I move to switch off the tall lights, and some of the brightness in the room dims.

I walk to the other part of the space and sprawl on the couch, giving her privacy to dress, and place my phone next to me.

When she appears back in her uniform, she's clutching the envelope to her chest. “I assume I can take this to help me create the presentation?”

“No, that stays here. I'll send you a link to the information. Then I can see your progress.” I hand her my phone. “Here, put your contact information in. I'll send you all the research later tonight.”

She eyes me. “I thought you didn't use software.”

“I do. I scan all the paper and keep it in the cloud. I'm not a Neanderthal.”

She pulls the phone away from me and jabs at it like it's offended her, then hands it back in a huff.

I feel a twinge of remorse that I bested her, so I offer a crumb of encouragement. “I know I was heavy-handed, but you have to see it from my point of view, what this looked like when I walked in on you. Even though this was a rough beginning, I think we can help each other out. We don't have to be enemies,” I say, and extend my hand to her. She glances down at it, her lips tight with disgust. I don't blame her, but I needed to do that neat bit of blackmailing. I need her for at least a couple of weeks or I'll lose control to Fiona.

I lower my hand, not bothered by the rejection. “I'll walk you to your car, then?”

“I'll walk myself out,” she says, the defiance flashing in her eyes. She's a gorgeous, fiery demon, but I can't allow her to walk through the grounds alone at night.

“I will walk you to your vehicle.” I say it in my rougher Scots voice. “We're out in the country after dark; there could be creatures outside waiting for you.”

Instead of raising another objection, she chews her lower lip and cuts her eyes at the door.

“Here, take this.” I pull a shawl off the couch. “Wrap this around you until you get into your car.”

She's hurrying her pace, trying to reach the parking lot in record time. “Kenzie, you don't need to run to your vehicle. I'll protect you from any unwanted attention from wild beasts we might encounter. It's not wise to jog; it makes you look like prey. She slows her pace without comment and the only sound is the crunch of my boots on the earth.

The frosty night creates plumes of our breath that blossom out before us. When we leave the buildings behind, it gives us a clear view of a large orange-yellow moon hanging low in the sky. It seems I could catch it in my palms, if I stretched out far enough. I've taken night strolls through the vineyards when I couldn't sleep at night. Sometimes when the smell of wet earth and the vines hit you, it relaxes you enough to sleep. I've seen no evidence of wild creatures here, but she doesn't know that.

“Have you ever seen a more beautiful moon?” I ask.

She lets the question linger between us, but eventually she mutters, “They call it a harvest or hunter's moon.”

---