To the right of the kitchen was a wall of windows. Another seating area in a light brown suede style that looked perfect for lounging on and watching a TV, one of which I didn’t see. I’m not sure what the open space was for actually. Past all that there was another staircase that led to an open room. From where I stood, I could see there were doors at the top of that staircase that slid open and closed like shoji screens. That was where I believed I could see a king-sized bed against one wall. I’d need to climb the stairs in order to see the rest.
Under the bedroom section were where there were two other doors completely closed off. I could hear barking from one of them, and the other was the one Cameron exited from, which I’d already ascertained was the bathroom.
In the last corner I saw a huge white photo backdrop and lights with a series of what I knew to be props huddled all around it. Different seats, stools, blocks, two clothing racks that were already filled with bagged items, and a ton of unopened boxes. That must be where we were going to work. I also noted a space heater, giant lights all the professionals used, and some other pulley systems that hung from the open ceiling.
“This place is tits!” Cameron spun around, and I focused on him and his outburst. “I can’t believe we’re in the home of Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Killian Fitzpatrick! Isn’t it just so extra?” he gushed.
Pulitzer Prize-winning… Say what?
I frowned and looked at Blessing. Her eyes were as big as mine, conveying she hadn’t known that tidbit of information either. What the heck was he doing taking fashion photos?
Now I take pictures of things that are beautiful. Things that bring me joy, not pain.
His words ran through my mind. He’d spent a decade photographing war. That had to be tough, but perhaps there was more to it than that.
I spun around when I heard Mr. Holt’s and Killian’s footsteps coming from where I believed the bedroom was.
“All clear. I’ll be doing recon around the building, checking in with my team, and coming in and out. Will that be a problem?” he asked.
“Actually, it will,” Killian noted. “I can’t work with disruptions. Once Addy and I get in the zone, I’d rather not be bothered. She’ll be perfectly protected here with me, my dog, and this.” He pulled out a handgun he had tucked in the back of his jeans, then tucked it back at the small of his waist. “She’ll be wearing lingerie and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”
He sure didn’t know me. I was the least modest woman of all my sisters. Even Simone, and she let it all hang out. Me, I made my money based on my body and what it looked like clothed and unclothed. If people didn’t like it, they could cease looking at it. I didn’t go flaunting it out in my everyday personal life, but I wasn’t insecure in the least. A man or a woman for that matter liked my curves or they didn’t. Why should I try to fit in some box to make others happy? And clearly as proven by my success and the waiting list I still had from designers across the globe, there was a place in the fashion industry for a woman of my size. But I appreciated his concern for me.
I took in the man as he stood with arms crossed over one another staring Mr. Holt down. A scary thing I wouldn’t have recommended. Sylvester Holt looked like a defensive lineman. He had control of that massive frame and used it easily to intimidate. And yet, Killian was no slouch. He was definitely a force to be reckoned with. His size may have been more athletic than huge and beefy like my new security guy, but no less strong.
Killian wore an incredible pair of form-fitting jeans that hugged his body to perfection. His thick, muscular thighs strained against the denim deliciously, as did his rear end. I sucked in my bottom lip, appreciating the tight white T-shirt that left nothing to my imagination. The man was blessed with lean, tightly packed muscles that my fingers tingled with the desire to touch.
I swallowed down my nervous response to the gun and his need to ensure my comfort.
Mr. Holt stared at Killian for a long time. Then he must have seen what he wanted to see because he nodded. “I’ll do the rounds every thirty minutes and make the hallway outside my door home base.” He looked over at me. “Ms. Michaels-Kerrigan, I’d like to get your cell phone number. I’ve got yours, Mr. Fitzpatrick, and will text if I feel the need to pop in so you can get a hold of your dog. However, if I feel anything or have a bad feeling, I’m sitting inside.” He pointed to the teal couch that was the farthest away from the photographing setup. “I’ll sit over there if I need to be out of the way.”
Killian nodded. “That works.”
“All right.” He came over to me, we exchanged numbers, and he gave me a few more tips about my safety.
For the first time since Wayne Gilbert Black died, I actually felt safe and comfortable.
“Thank you.” I reached out my hand and Mr. Holt took it.
“My pleasure. I’ll be right outside or very close at all times. You need me, call, text, or just scream and I’ll be there.” His eyes rose toward where Killian was standing. “Though I’m thinking Mr. Fitzpatrick has you covered. Still, I’m here.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
I hugged Blessing and the three of them exited the loft. Killian followed right behind and locked the door.
“I’m going to finish setting up in the bathroom. It’s huge. Totally big enough to do my magic on you. Not that you need it, you freak of nature.” Cameron huffed, then turned toward Killian. “Woman waltzes in with no makeup and poorly brushed hair with zero product and looks like a goddess.” He shook his head. “It isn’t fair. You ever see a more beautiful face than that?” Cameron hooked a thumb at me, and I could feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
Killian stared straight into my eyes when he spoke. “No, I haven’t. She’s a one-of-a-kind beauty.”
“Don’t I know it.” Cameron prattled on as he made his way toward the bathroom.
I stared at Killian, feeling a little out of sorts standing alone in a room with him for the first time. “Hey,” I said shyly.
Killian came over to me and stopped a couple feet away. “You doin’ okay?”
I nodded and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear suddenly feeling shy. “Everything is a little awkward but I’m rolling with it. Thank you for sharing your space and willingly shooting in your home. This can’t be fun for you.”
He smiled softly. “Why wouldn’t having something unearthly beautiful to photograph in my home not be fun for me?”
I bit down on my bottom lip and looked at the floor, trying to hide how much his compliment lifted my confidence.
“I’m still scared.”
“Of the guy who hurt that girl?” He clarified.
I shook my head. “No…actually, yeah, that too. It’s just… This is my first shoot back after the other thing and now it’s blowing up again. I just want to apologize in advance if I randomly I stare off into space or have one of my moments.”
He stepped so close I could almost feel the heat of his larger frame cocooning mine, reminding me that there was someone perfectly capable of protecting me. Him.
“Last time when you paused during the shoot, you went somewhere. What happened then?” he asked.
“I…uh, went back to that horrible place where I was kept. The guy, he took pictures and video of me. Sometimes the sound of the flash or a picture being taken can send me back there.”