He turned away, breaking eye contact to lean down to pet the nearest husky. ‘I’d pick one person to be the face of your campaign. Find a way to feature everyone else in another capacity. Your cause might mean something to every one of your crew, but they don’t all need to be here to make it count. One person can represent a million.’
For some reason his sound argument made my mouth dry, my heart beat just a touch faster. ‘And who would you pick—again, if you were in charge?’
This time I saw a tangible reaction to my deliberate choice of words. His jaw clenched, his nostrils thinning. ‘You want to make an impact. Pick the person who has the biggest voice.’ He stared at me in that direct and pointed way that left me in no doubt who he meant.
‘Me.’
He shrugged. ‘You decide.’ Glacial eyes met mine. ‘I’m not in charge.’ You are.
It was a silent gauntlet thrown at my feet. A brief relinquishing of his control as his eyes deliberately dropped.
Was this a test? Would he dare?
Something heavy and profound unfurled inside me, threatening to unleash that forbidden yearning I’d kept in chains. Again, he turned away, this time to check the reins attached to his sled.
Look at me when I’m talking to you.
I bit back the words, took a steadying breath. ‘I’ve spent a considerable amount of time and money to make this shoot happen. Leaving empty-handed would make me very unhappy.’
He tensed for a moment, but he didn’t look up.
My heart beat faster. ‘Do you want me to be disappointed, Mr Scott?’
‘Jensen,’ he offered with a low but distinct rasp, still without looking at me. ‘Call me Jensen.’
A surge of blood roaring in my ears made me dizzy for a moment. Then a peculiar elation rushed through my veins. One I desperately wanted to deny but found I wasn’t quite ready to. Not just yet. Not until I was absolutely sure this man who effortlessly blended into this landscape as if born to it was what...who my instincts were screaming him to be.
A submissive.
‘Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to send everyone but the most essential crew away. And you’re going to stay and deliver the shoot you promised me.’
He stopped toying with the reins and turned around. When his gaze met mine, his face was carefully neutral, making me doubt my instinct. ‘You don’t have the right equipment to travel over long distances and different terrain. Your PM was very vague with my agent—now I know why. I came here to find out more about what you need from me...from this project before I started. Even with what you deem an essential crew, you’ll have to wait for more sleds to arrive from Utqiagvik. That’ll take the better part of half a day.’
I raised my eyebrows as, for whatever reason, my heart banged even harder against my ribs. ‘So you’re suggesting no crew at all?’
‘At the most, I can make room for one more on the sled. Any more means more weight on the sleds and more weight for huskies to pull.’
Just you and me... ‘You want me to stay here on my own. With you?’
His eyes glinted before they blinked back into careful neutrality. ‘Have you been keeping an eye on the weather reports?’
Someone on my crew had. ‘Of course.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Then you’ll know that in less than three days’ time the sun will set for the next couple of months. Today and tomorrow are your only chances to get the variety of photographs you want.’ He waited a couple of beats, no doubt for his words to sink in. Then he took a breath. ‘What’s it to be, Miss Mortimer?’
Call me Graciela.
It was an automatic invitation to new acquaintances and potential donors. Call me Graciela was so I wouldn’t be reminded that I was a Mortimer. That the blood of an unfeeling, dysfunctional dynasty ran through my veins. It reminded me of the many times I’d attempted to correct that dysfunction, when I thought I knew better, believed I was different. A misguided, cruelly awakening time I would wipe my brain clean of if I could.
The words hovered on my lips but never emerged.
Because I wanted clear, definitive boundaries between myself and this man.
Boundaries I was curious to see whether he would breach. Whether he would prove me wrong.
Or...right.
Dangerous, forbidden boundaries. The kind that had the power to wreck my sleep, turn my daydreams inside out with dark yearning.
‘Larry,’ I called out without taking my eyes off Jensen. His gaze stayed on my face, dropped to my mouth for a charged moment before returning to mine.
I heard Larry hurry over. ‘Gracie?’
‘Tell the crew to pack up.’
‘We’re leaving?’ The disappointment in Larry’s voice was distinct.
I gave a single shake of my head. ‘Everyone else is. I’m staying.’
‘Oh? For how long?’
‘As long as it takes. What will I need, Mr Scott?’
He didn’t correct me this time or invite me to use his given name. ‘I have a satellite phone, but if you wish to keep yours, two is better than one. A couple of changes of clothes, in case you get wet.’
‘Food? Water?’
He shook his head. ‘I have enough to get us through the day.’ A hint of hard smile tilted the corners of his lips. ‘Be warned, it’s more utilitarian than gourmet.’
I let the mild insult bounce off me. If my instinct was correct, he’d learn his lesson soon enough. ‘I can rough it for a day or two without expiring from the horror of it all.’ I looked past him to the covered trailer attached to his sled. ‘Speaking of roughing it, where will I be sleeping?’ Thoughts of my warm hotel suite back in Anchorage filled me with longing for a short moment before I pushed them away.
Did he just swallow? ‘I have a tent if we decide to stop for the night. Or my cabin is a couple of hours’ sled ride away.’
Larry cleared his throat.
