“You’re actually my first model. I’ve never paid someone to sit for me before.” Abruptly, he turned away. “It’s not about the clothes, if those are what make you uncomfortable. That’s why I suggested you be nude. The clothes are just fabric. It’s aboutyou.Nothing else. You don’t need fancy clothing or makeup in order to be beautiful.”
Easy for him to say. The man was walking perfection.
He’d gone back to his easel. Picked up a brush. Once more, his eyes were on her, but this time, he wasn’t seeing through her. Jacqueline had the uncomfortable feeling he was seeing every single bit of her.
“Why hide?” Remy asked simply.
Her tongue swiped over her lower lip. “Because hiding is safe.”
“You’re safe with me. You can show me the real you.”
Exposing her real self would be too risky.You don’t know him.A cautious whisper from within.
She remembered that Remy had said he would give her references who could vouch for him. People she could call so that they could tell her what a great guy he was. “Who are the references?”
His brush slid over the canvas. “What references?” Now he seemed distracted. Just that quickly.
She held her body still. Kept herself turned toward the light, just as he’d instructed when she first hopped onto the stool. “You said you had references. People I could talk to about you. Who are they?” A question she should have asked before.
“Oh, you know, the usual. The head of the FBI. A few well-placed members of the CIA. And Eric Wilde. You ever heard of him?” More light brush strokes on the canvas. “He runs—”
“Wilde,” Jacqueline said as every single bit of moisture dried from her mouth. Of course, she’d heard of Eric Wilde. The man was stupid rich, and his security and protection firm was in the news every other week.
Trouble. I’m in big, serious trouble.
“What’s wrong?”
Jacqueline focused on keeping her breathing nice and steady. Well, she hoped it was nice and steady, anyway. But absolute fear and panic had just flooded her, andclearlyRemy had picked up on her change of expression. “Why would the head of the FBI be able to give you a reference?” Except she suspected, and this wasbad.
The FBI big boss would give him a reference because…
Remy works for him.
“Your flush is going darker,” he noted.
She leapt off the stool. “I need some fresh air.” What she needed was an escape plan, stat. “Can we take a quick break?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Jacqueline?”
“Just need to stretch. Five minutes, tops.” With an effort, she tossed him a quick, broad grin. Then, before he could argue, she double-timed it to the door.
She could feel his stare on her, but he didn’t stop her. Her shaking fingers curled over the knob, she yanked it open, and then she…
Practically ran through the cabin. Went straight for the front door. She hauled it open and bounded down the porch steps.
Get away. Run.Her frantic gaze swept the area. She hadzeromemory of arriving at his cabin the night before, and when she looked around, Jacqueline could see pine trees stretching for what looked like miles and sweeping arches of mountains in the distance. No other cabins. Just a graveled drive. She could follow that drive and probably get to the main road, but if she stuck to the drive, she’d be easier to spot if Remy decided to give chase.
So she flew toward the woods, knowing they were her best option as—
“Really? Going to take your chances with the bears and wolves instead of staying with me? Do I frighten you that much?”
He was behind her. Very, very close behind her. Too close. She spun around and found Remy about a foot—a foot—behind her. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” One eyebrow lifted.
“Get…here.Behind me. Without me hearing you.”
“You were running—stomping very loudly—so I doubt you would’ve heard anyone.” He didn’t touch her. He could have. He could have reached out and grabbed her. His hands remained at his sides. “Why did I scare you?”