Except, she couldn’t imagine him looking virginal.

“Not that you care, but I need the light that we’re losing with each passing second.” Without so much as a glance at her body-so much for the ego she hadn’t even realized she had-he took her wrist and tugged her out of the protective covering of the sheets.

He walked quickly and smoothly on the rough path, forcing her to jog to keep up with him. She ran alongside while simultaneously trying to keep the material around her and her thong in place. By the time he got her to the set, she was huffing and puffing.

She really had to find the time to exercise more thoroughly than the occasional yoga tape. But she knew she wouldn’t. If she wasn’t writing, she was sleeping and if she wasn’t sleeping, she was plotting.

Work ran her life.

Work was her life.

So how she’d ended up in paradise half-naked still boggled the mind, but here she was, determined to save Amber and have fun for once, with Rafe and his assistant staring at her, waiting for her to pull some model magic out of a hat she’d never worn before.

The rain still fell, big heavy drops sparse enough that they felt nice and cool landing on her hot, steaming skin. If she could have, she would have loved to take a long walk in it, alone, soaking it all in, getting drenched, cooling off-

The other man came forward as Rafe went to his camera. What had Amber told her the tall, gorgeous blonde’s name was? Stone. Stone didn’t like Amber, but her sister hadn’t cared and said Emma shouldn’t care, either. Now Emma wondered at that, sensing a long story behind the casually made statement, and wished she’d found out the reason for the animosity.

Stone’s light blue eyes were cool but kinder than Rafe’s as he pointed to the hammock. “There. Give us some good stuff quickly and we can all get out of here.”

Good stuff. Right. No problem. Her skin was damp, and her hair…God knows how bad it had gotten. A woman came close and introduced herself as Jen, the makeup and hair artist.

“I’ll just-” She started to play with Emma’s hair, but lowered her hands when Rafe called out to her.

“She’s perfect,” he said, holding three film canisters. “The skin’s got a fabulous glow and the hair is good. Leave it.”

Odd how just those words, spoken so impersonally and not even directly to her, caused a flutter in Emma’s belly.

He thought she was perfect.

Before today, it had never occurred to her to go into modeling. You’re too smart to waste your life that way, her mother had drilled into her at a young age.

And agreeing, Emma had always been the studious one. But there was something to be said for being told she was perfect by a stranger. She wondered what her mother would think of that, as she’d never imagined her daughters perfect at all.

Emma got onto the hammock-no easy feat in itself-and pulled the material tighter around her, keeping her arms crossed over her breasts.

Stone reached toward her and Emma tried not to wince. He was going to arrange her, touch her-and this would be the hardest part. Amber loved to be touched, craved it like everyone else craved air.

Emma, however, didn’t. She closed her eyes. Tried to breathe.

“Stone, where’s the white umbrella?” Rafe called out from behind the camera.

“The white…” Stone looked at the blue one they’d used earlier and swore. “In my room.” He looked over the setting, the rain misting down on their model, the lighting, and sighed in agreement. “Yeah. I need to go get it, it’s just what you need.” He started jogging up the path Emma had just been tugged down by Rafe.

Emma turned back to the camera, but suddenly Rafe was standing right in front of her-tall, big and wet. As a few errant drops hit him they practically steamed right off his body.

“Hold still,” he said.

She held still and looked into his dark eyes, watching to see if he watched her. Saw her.

“Relax.”

No, he didn’t really see her, at least not as a woman. She didn’t know if she was relieved or insulted.

Relieved, she decided a minute later, realizing she’d never felt so utterly naked. Living her life as she did, with work being all she ever thought about, she wasn’t used to this nude thing. She’d had the occasional relationship, but given her schedule, occasional was the key word. It had been a good long time since she’d had so much as a kiss and even then, since she remembered being on deadline at the time and completely distracted, it hadn’t been anything to write home about.

Casual nudity had never become a part of any of those occasional relationships. She always rushed through her day, preoccupied, rarely seeing herself naked, much less letting anyone else see her. Being so exposed right now was like one of those dreams where she found herself on the school bus, without clothes.

It was horrifying, terrifying, mortifying-

“Perfect,” Rafe said, looking through his camera at her.

Her tummy fluttered again. Her nipples tightened. And her thighs clenched. Yes, she was horrified, terrified, mortified…

And somehow excited at the same time.

“Hug your knees.” He came out from behind the camera, moved close.

Ohmigod. If she weren’t so bared to the cool raindrops, she might have broken out in a sweat-

Silent, brooding, he wrapped his fingers around her ankles, lifting until she bent her knees. Then he took her wrists, dragging her arms around her legs. “Bend your head down, just a little-” He sounded gruff, frustrated, so it confused her when he suddenly softened. “Oh yeah,” he breathed. “Just right.” He stroked her hair from her face, his fingers brushing her skin.

Her gaze jerked up to his as her nipples tightened even more, but he was completely lost in getting the pose he wanted.

She might have laughed at how impersonal it all was, except that she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t sound hysterical, so she kept it to herself.

“Set your chin on your knees,” he commanded, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “And look directly into the camera, as if you’re just a little nervous.”

A little nervous. Ha! If he only knew just how nervous she was. Her thighs were trembling now and she squeezed them tight.

“No, stay loose.”

She tried, but again he came out from behind the camera. This time he put a hand on her thigh.

Her body twitched.

“Loose,” he commanded.

Impossible. Despite the fear and embarrassment, that excitement was humming through her insides again. At the realization, she felt her face heat. How could this be? What kind of sick woman would be excited about being naked, in front of a stranger, having him touch her, toss demands at her? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t deny it. She was into this, and feeling so overwhelmingly sexy that she didn’t know how to handle herself.

Not paying any attention to her or her turmoil, Rafe pried the loose filmy material free of her hands and shook it out, leaving her completely bare except for the small triangle of her thong.

This was worse than the naked-in-the-bus nightmare, far worse, and at the same time somehow even more exciting, but she hunched over her knees, hugging them for all she was worth.

He handled the fabric like a pro, putting it back around her in a way that satisfied him, and left her feeling like she sat on a high wire without a net.

And still he just looked at her.

She squirmed, and as she always did when she was out of her element, she started talking-too much. “I know, I should have done sit-ups.” She crossed her arms tighter over her breasts, which were plain old B cups, but somehow in the forest, wet from the rain, they appeared closer to a C. “And a Thigh Master wouldn’t hurt, either, but-”

“You’re crazy.” He shook his head and stepped back, assessing her before pulling her arms free of her body to drape them over her knees again as he wanted, cocking his head to study her. “You know damn well you’ve got a body that brings grown men to their knees.”

Maybe Amber knew, but Emma rarely thought of herself that way. His praise made her nipples even happier, and her thighs were doing that funny clench and unclench thing again. She swallowed hard and stared at him, trying to get it together, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t. Amber hadn’t told her how incredible-looking he was, how masterful, how utterly confident. She hadn’t said his touch would bring goose bumps to the surface of her flesh or that his voice would make her want to shiver.

Amber hadn’t said any of those things and, as a result, Emma decided she needed to get out more.

“Hold that position,” he said.

Holding. Her bent legs covered her in the front, but then he walked around the hammock, slowly, taking her in, and she could only imagine the picture she created from behind with her thong riding high-

“Hmm.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked shakily, resisting the urge to reach around and yank at the satin dividing her butt in a most intimate way.

“That’s odd.”

“What’s odd?” Did she have a zit? What?

“I’ve never noticed that freckle before.”

“F-freckle?”

“Yeah, this one right here-”

She nearly leaped right out of her skin when she felt the blunt tip of his finger stroke her right buttock and the freckle.

He’d never noticed it before because her sister didn’t have one. “Oh. Well…it’s usually covered.”

“Not when I’ve seen you.”

That deflated some of her exhilaration, oddly enough. So he’d seen her sister in far less than this outfit. She should have figured as much. And having his finger touch her so intimately shouldn’t matter, either, but her entire body felt so…aware. The lightweight material brushing and teasing her breasts seemed too rough suddenly, and her over-sensitized nipples quivered at her every breath as they rubbed against the material. “M-maybe it’s a new one.”

“Uh-huh. From all your nude sunbathing?”

Sounded good. “Yes.”

“Funny then, how creamy and pale your skin is.” He came around the front again, looking over every inch of her with his photographer’s eagle eye, lingering on her legs, which were up in front of her.

Could he see between them? She didn’t want to know, she really didn’t.

Being aroused like this was not only painful but embarrassing. As a writer she’d put her characters in situations that she’d thought sexy, but she knew now she’d been tame, and that was because she hadn’t had any idea of what sexy really meant.

Now she knew.

Rafe was still looking at her, which made her want to squirm again. Then there was the matter of the thong, tight in front, brushing against a sensitive part of her in a shocking, tantalizing manner with every passing second until she could hardly breathe.

“Shouldn’t you take the picture now?” she asked.

“Shh.” He took the material again, draping the transparent length of it over her head, bringing the ends down to the hands holding her knees and slowly tucking it in. “Nice. Hold.” He backed to his camera. “Holding on to the material, lift your hands and toss your head back to the sky.”

“What?”

“Do it.”

“But…I’ll be uncovered.”

“Your knees will shield your breasts from the camera.”

But what about from him? Holding her breath, trying not to picture how hard her nipples were or how her belly rose and fell with her every erratic breath, she did what he’d asked, she lifted her arms and tossed back her head.

A little.

“More,” he commanded in that silky voice that was so utterly captivating and tyrannical at the same time. “Expose your throat. Thrust your breasts out. Sacrifice yourself, Amber. You know you love to do that.” He peered out from his camera and gave her a long, assessing look. “Unless there’s some reason why you wouldn’t.”

Oh boy. “Of course not.” Breathing as if she’d been running, she “sacrificed” herself, throwing out her arms, tossing back her head, thrusting out her breasts, and over the roar of the blood in her ears, she heard a hiss of breath. She had no idea if it was Rafe-who else-and wasn’t sure if she wanted to know because it sounded so…primal.

“Hold that,” he said.

She tried not to think about how much of her he could see while she held the pose. All around her was the scent of the forest and above her came the sound of the rain.

And the clicking of his shutter.

“A little bit more.” His voice was both low and husky, and utterly hypnotic. “Open your eyes wide. Like that. Now your mouth, pant a little, like you’re both petrified and aroused beyond belief-Yeah, just like that.”

If he only knew she was petrified and aroused beyond belief, despite the fact that Jen and the other techs were still watching and that Stone had come back down the path holding a white umbrella in his hand-