Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set (17 page)

'They're great,' he said
, grinning at her.

She stared at him
. 'Really?'

'Really.'

‘Well, thanks,’ she said slowly, a soft blush of pleasure coloring her cheeks. ‘I didn’t really have much of a camera. The Corona AutoFocus is a nice little thing, but...’

The photographer nodded. ‘Exactly. No filters, no exotic lenses—that’s what I told my buddy over at Co
rona.'

'Corona?
The camera company, you mean?’

‘I’ve got an old friend in their advertising department. He liked your pictures, Jessica. Call him—he’ll tell you so himself.’ He pointed a finger at the piece
of paper on her desk. ‘That’s his name and number.’

‘Thanks,’ she said slowly, looking down at the scrawled name and number, ‘but I don’t understand...’

Hans smiled. ‘Corona’s been working up a big campaign built around the fact that this camera will deliver quality prints in places other cameras won’t. Didn’t you tell me you carried that little number with you through a plane crash and up a mountain and God only knows what else? Do you have any idea what kind of publicity that is?’

‘You
mean...’ She swallowed hard. It was too much to hope for. ‘You mean they might want to buy some of my pictures?’

‘Jessica, you’re not listening. They want to make you and your photos the springboard for their whole campaign.
They want to send you and that camera everywhere. Who knows where it all ends? Maybe with you and your Corona on the moon.’ He grinned and unwound his legs. ‘Listen,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘call this guy, OK?’

She stared at him blankly. ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘The public already knows your name, Jessica. The plane crash was one thing, but surviving it and coming back to life two weeks later is another. Not everybody does that, and not everybody shows up clutching rolls of film taken on a brand new little camera. And, without question, not everybody has the talent to take shots that make people gasp.’ Hans walked to the door and tapped it lightly. ‘Hear that?’ he said with a wink. ‘It’s opportunity knocking, kid. You’d better grab it before it gets away.’

‘I...
I don’t know how to thank you,’ Jessica stammered, rising to her feet.

A grudging smile lit the photographer’s dour features. ‘Look, kid, somebody gave me a helping hand years ago when I got started. I’m just returning the
favor. You can do the same for somebody else someday.’

‘They really want to buy my pictures?’ she repeated. ‘Corona?’

‘You got it, kid. . By the way, do you have a release from that guy?’

‘Release?
'

‘You’ll need a signed release from that pilot. You’ve got some terrific shots of him they’re sure to want.
'

‘I can’t,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t even know where he is, and ...’

‘Trace him through the airline he worked for
. No problem, right?’

Jessica swallowed drily. ‘Right,’ she said evenly. ‘No problem.’

Jessica turned up the collar of her corduroy jacket and tucked her hands deep into her pockets.

A cool wind, blowing unchecked through the skeletal trees, swept the hair back from her face.

The last scarlet and gold leaves of autumn had turned the winding path into a carpet of color that crunched under her booted feet.

She looked up as a harsh cry reverberated through the late afternoon silence. There were always peacocks wandering free on the grounds of the Bronx Zoo; she’d photographed them often enough, but she never got used to their calls.

It seemed a joke of nature that such beautiful creatures should have such raucous voices.

The Zoo was all but deserted. It was the sort of raw, late October day that made New Yorkers remember the heat and humidity of the summer past with kindness, the sort of day Jessica loved because she knew she and her camera would have the Zoo to themselves.

But there was no camera dangling from her neck today and no bulging equipment bag on her shoulder. She wasn’t here to take pictures; she was here to meet Chad O’Bryan.

She pushed back her sleeve and glanced at her watch. Chad had said he’d be at the wolf enclosure at half past three and it was almost that now.

He probably wouldn’t wait if she were late, she thought, and her footsteps quickened.

It had taken some fast talking to get him to agree to meet her at all. But she’d been determined, especially after the trouble she’d had tracking him down. Wind River Charters had given her a phone number in Denver. She’d
dialed it with trembling fingers only to hear a flat, computer-generated voice tell her the number had been disconnected.

NYU had
been her next try; she’d started with the Biology Department and then talked her way from one office to the next without finding anyone who knew Chad’s current address or phone number.

‘Look,’ she’d said to the people at Corona Camera, ‘there are lots of pictures without
Mr. O’Bryan in them. Can’t you just use those?’

‘The shots of him have a certain quality, Miss Howard. Surely you can see that.’

Yes, she could, indeed.

Chad looked as if he belonged in those mountains and in that cabin. They were good pictures and she was proud of them, although there were others that were even better, others she would never show anyone or sell at any price. She’d looked at them again last night and then tucked them away, wishing she had either the courage to throw them out or hang them on the wall.

‘Anyway, I doubt if he’s going to sign a release,’ she’d said finally. ‘You don’t know how stubborn he can be.’

‘You let us worry about that,’ the Corona Camera executives replied pleasantly. ‘We think
Dr. O’Bryan will be pleased to hear that we’re interested in making a considerable contribution to his work.’

Doctor O’Bryan
.

She’d teased him about his title often enough but, in the expensively decorated offices of the Corona Camera Company, the title had a different ring. But it helped put things in perspective. It wasn’t Chad she was seeking, it was a man who had a doctorate in biology, a man with whom she had business to con
duct.

She
'd finally located him in the most unexpected way, seated in her dentist’s waiting room, reading a current issue of International Geography magazine.

There, buried in a column about recent award winners, was the name
Charles O’Bryan, BS, MS, PhD, and the news that he’d just been awarded a grant to continue his studies of Alaskan wolf pack structure.

Apparently, becoming an instant celebrity hadn’t hurt his career, either.

She’d phoned International Geography that same afternoon and wheedled a Manhattan phone number out of them, half expecting it to lead to another dead end. But she'd dialed it dutifully, waited while it rang and rang and then, at the last second, she heard Chad’s voice for the first time in almost a month.

He sounded snappish and irritable, as if the ring of the telephone had taken him from something important.

‘O'Bryan here,' he'd barked. 'Who is it?’

Jessica
had swallowed drily. ‘Hello, Chad. It’s Jessica. How have you been?’

‘Busy,’
he’d said after a lengthy silence. ‘And you?’

‘Fine, just fine.’ She
'd closed her eyes and tangled the telephone cord in her fingers. Why had she ever agreed to do this? Ten times all the Corona contracts in the world weren’t worth it. ‘I have some business to discuss with you.’ The flat silence added to her discomfort. ‘I—I took some pictures, remember? And I’ve had an offer for them.’

‘I’m glad to hear you made a sale,’ he
'd said politely. ‘But I don’t see how that involves me.’

‘You’re in some of the
photos and—and ' I’d like you to sign a release.'

'That's why you called me?'

'Yes.'

‘Forget it
.’

‘It’s the
Corona Camera Company. They want to—'

‘I don’t care what they want.’

‘They want to make a contribution to that field study you’re going to do.'

‘I don’t want their money
. I have legitimate financing.’

She'd felt her hackles rise.
‘Are you saying Corona’s money isn’t legitimate?’

‘
They want to sell cameras. They’re not interested in anything but dollars and cents.’

God, she
'd thought, pacing as far as the telephone cord would permit, how self-righteous he sounded. As always, the purist knew everything.

How could she ever have forgotten that
?

‘Everybody’s interested in dollars and cents,’
she’d said patiently. ‘Even you, Chad. Your wolf study couldn’t be done without money, could it?’

‘That’s different
. My study isn’t commercial.’

‘For heaven’s sake, all Corona wants to do is sell cameras, not used cars.’ She
'd drawn a steadying breath. ‘Look, they want to buy my pictures. Do you have any idea what that means to me? They want to make my photographs the center of their advertising campaign.’

‘You mean they want to use my mountains and my ghost town and my face.’

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You don’t own Coleman’s Creek or the Wind River Range.’

‘I sure as hell own this face,’ he
'd growled.

‘If you’d just meet with them
...’

‘I’m busy, Jessica. I haven’t got time to waste talking to Madison Avenue phonies. I’m only going to be in town for another couple of days ...’

‘They can see you whenever you like,’ she
'd interrupted. ‘Tomorrow, if you like.'

‘I’ll be at the Zoo tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I have to finish some observations I started a few months back.
'

'The wolf cubs,' she'd said slowly, and all the memories she'd tried to deny had come rushing back.

Maybe the same thing had happened to him because, after a minute's silence, he’d said okay, he'd meet her.

'T
hree- thirty. At the wolf enclosure.’

‘Thank you,’ she’d begun, and then she’d heard the metallic click of the line being disconnected.

There it was now. The wolf enclosure. Her footsteps slowed as she approached the well-wooded area. No one was there, which was no great surprise. The enclosure was meant to resemble a forest as much as possible and the pack was free to roam within it. You couldn’t always see the wolves; you had to be patient and quiet, and most people were neither.

She looked at her watch again. It was just past three-thirty— had Chad changed his mind? Perhaps he’d already been here and gone.

‘Hello, Jessica.’

The sound of his voice touched her like a familiar caress. She turned slowly—yes, there he was, exactly the way she remembered, tall and lean and still dressed as if he were going out to
ride the range.

Her heart started
racing and she knew what a mistake she'd made, arranging this appointment, because she had missed him, missed him, missed him…

‘Hello, Chad.’ She swallowed and then managed a forced smile. ‘I wish I knew how you do that. I never heard you coming.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said, walking slowly towards her. His eyes swept over her and he smiled. ‘You look great.’

‘So do you,’
she said, returning his smile, and then she thought,
What is wrong with you, Jessica

She was here for a purpose.

She had to remember that.

‘Thanks for meeting me,’ she said. ‘I brought the pictures.’

‘I told you, I had some work here anyway. I got lucky with a grant and I’m leaving New York in a couple of days. I’m going back to Alaska.’

Jessica nodded. ‘I read about it. You must be very pleased.’

He shrugged his
shoulders. ‘Sure.’

If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought there was less enthusiasm in that 'sure' than she'd have expected.

Not that that was her problem.

'Well,' she said brightly, 'I won't keep you
long.’ She pulled a large envelope out of her shoulder-bag and held it out to him. ‘The release is in there. So are the photos, if you want to see them. I know you’re afraid publishing them will be an invasion of your privacy, but...’

‘Of course it will,’ he said, taking the envelope from her. ‘But I know it means a lot to you, Jess
. I thought about it last night and ...’ He opened the clasp and pulled out the photographs. ‘There can’t be too many of me, anyway. I don’t recall you pointing the camera in my direction all that much.’ His voice drifted away as he began to sift through the photos.

‘Well,’ he said after a while, ‘I’ve got to admit you’re good.’ He looked up and smiled politely. ‘You’ve captured the feeling of the mountains and the town.’ He glanced down at the pictures again and fanned through the last few. ‘I didn’t know you’d taken so many of me. This one on the trail’s pretty good
...’

He was going to sign the release. She was sure of it. Thank you, she thought
—but suddenly, the expression on his face changed.

He stared at the last photograph and when he looked up again, his eyes were cold and flat.

‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘I’m not signing anything.’ She gasped as he crumpled the photo and let it tumble to the ground. ‘That’s what I think of your picture.’

‘Who do you think you are?’ she demanded. ‘That’s my property.’ She picked up the photo and glared at him. 'It's mine. You have no right to destroy it.’

‘It’s better to destroy it cleanly than to sell it,’ he growled.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘This picture ...’ She looked down at the creased photograph in her hand and then back at Chad. ‘This picture...’

The
color drained from her face.

It was a candid shot of Chad, one she had almost destroyed a dozen times because just looking at it made her remember things it was best to forget.

He was squatting before the fire without his shirt ... She had taken the picture one snowy afternoon after long hours spent in his arms.

The look on his face was so filled with passion, with the intimacy they'd shared…

She looked up blindly. ‘This isn’t for sale,’ she said. ‘It shouldn’t have been in the envelope.’

‘Why not, Jessica? Didn’t Corona offer enough?’

‘Chad, please, you have to know that I wouldn’t... I couldn’t... ’

‘Why not?’ he asked coldly. ‘After all, it’s only a photograph of a guy you knew in another
lifetime.’

‘You know better than that
.’

‘What? What do I know, Jessie?’ He reached out and grasped her shoulders, his fingers biting through her corduroy jacket and into her flesh. ‘The only thing I know is that I was a fool to meet you today.’

‘I would never sell that photo.’

'
All it is is a souvenir of a time when you played house with a dumb cowboy.’

Tears shone in her eyes. ‘You know it wasn’t like that.’

‘What I know is that only a dumb cowboy would have let himself believe we had something special.’

She shook her head. ‘We did
.’

‘Don’t lie to me, damn it. What we had was fine as long as the real world was far away. But you couldn’t wait to get back to New York, once you had the chance.’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘that’s not true!’

‘Or was it that you couldn’t wait to get away from me
?’ His grip on her tightened. 'Did I scare you that last day in the cabin, when I was falling all over myself trying to tell you that I knew a way we could be together for the rest of our lives?'

‘
That's not true! All you talked about that day was how impossible it would be for you to make room in your life for me.’

‘Are you
crazy?’