He likes to play the
field. She's content to wear her goody two shoes.
Piero Carter packs light and travels often. He loves adventure and manages to keep his life simple by sticking to a two-dates-only rule. The longest relationship he's had -- aside from family -- is with his camera. As a photographer who works primarily with fashion, he's used to having his pick of beautiful women who want to be seen by his side.
Felicity von Wolff is a makeup artist whose job takes her around the world. That's all the adventure she craves. She has little use for Piero the Playboy. Being seen on his arm means getting tied to his reputation, and that's the last thing she wants. Yet, somehow, they keep getting thrown together. What's a girl to do?
Piero finally meets a woman who makes him want more than two dates, but does that mean he's ready for one of life's greatest adventures -- falling in love? When Felicity peeks over the wall she's built, she discovers there's more to the people around her than she ever realized. What will it take for Piero and Felicity to stop hiding from life and open their eyes to the rich beauty God has in store for them?
Piero Carter packs light and travels often. He loves adventure and manages to keep his life simple by sticking to a two-dates-only rule. The longest relationship he's had -- aside from family -- is with his camera. As a photographer who works primarily with fashion, he's used to having his pick of beautiful women who want to be seen by his side.
Felicity von Wolff is a makeup artist whose job takes her around the world. That's all the adventure she craves. She has little use for Piero the Playboy. Being seen on his arm means getting tied to his reputation, and that's the last thing she wants. Yet, somehow, they keep getting thrown together. What's a girl to do?
Piero finally meets a woman who makes him want more than two dates, but does that mean he's ready for one of life's greatest adventures -- falling in love? When Felicity peeks over the wall she's built, she discovers there's more to the people around her than she ever realized. What will it take for Piero and Felicity to stop hiding from life and open their eyes to the rich beauty God has in store for them?
PIERO
CARTER RAN AS IF his life depended on it.
Between the idiosyncrasies of German
traffic and his cabās flat tire, he was late.
Beyond late.
He was the photographer, and the photo
shoot couldnāt very well start without him. No worries there. He prided himself
on a level of professionalism, even if it had deserted him at the moment.
Ha.
It hadnāt deserted him. It had ground
him under its heels and left him like a pile of dust.
His destination was in sight through the
next doorway, and Piero sprinted for it.
He didnāt plan for the slippery rug,
though. Or the curvy blonde who stepped into his path.
He went down hard, and he took the woman
with him.
At least he managed to land under her.
That had to count for something.
The rug they were on ā acting more like
a flying carpet than a proper historic replica ā carried them through the
entryway before it skidded to a stop at the foot of the famed English Stairway,
one of the gems of the Dresden Royal Palace and the site of that dayās photo
shoot.
āUh-hem.ā
Marty, the assistant assigned him for
this shoot, stood by with arms crossed and eyebrows raised. āSo nice of you to
join us, Mr. Carter. We might actually be able to start this shoot before the
lighting is completely ruined.ā
Good olā Marty. He made obnoxious people
look like sweet-tempered, little old ladies.
The blonde, who hadnāt screamed even
once as theyād careened across centuries-old wooden floors, jumped from his lap
as though sheād been given a good jolt of electricity. Her face flamed red as
she sent him a glare before she scuttled across the room and behind the
temporary curtains set up to create a pseudo-dressing room for the models.
Not that models tended to be
particularly modest. But it was generally bad form to wander around historic
landmarks in a foreign land when wearing nothing but skivvies. Or less.
Piero shook off the shock of his grand
entrance and made his way over to the camera table. Heād set it up the day
before, double-checked all his settings, and arranged each camera the way he
liked it. Not that he was fanaticalā¦ After all, heād only requested one
security guard to keep an eye on the shoot site overnight.
He ran his fingers along the cameras as
he contemplated the stairway and the light filtering through the windows. His
eyes flitted over to the curtained-off area.
Just who had that woman been?
Piero shook the thought away and picked
up the camera he wanted. A quick turn on his heel had him facing the waiting
crowd. āAlright ladies! If you donāt already know what youāre doing, see
Charise. Sheāll tell you when youāre up.ā
The woman in question shook her
silver-topped head, a smile dancing in her eyes. Then she clapped her hands,
drawing the modelsā attention. āAnalise, youāre up first. Next is Patrice. Then
Genevieve. You do not step in front of that camera until Iāve approved your
outfit and makeup. Understood?ā
The models all nodded but remained more
or less motionless, except for Analise. A nod from Charise, and the young model
was climbing the steps. She turned to face Piero as Chariseās assistants worked
to drape her dress just so. A whistle from their boss told the assistants when
their work was done. They flitted to and fro to get out of the way. Some went
up the stairs, and some went down. Better to separate than to risk tripping
over a dressās fabric and undoing the work theyād already put into creating the
perfect image.
Piero paced back and forth at the foot
of the stairs as he looked at the model, the empty space, and the shadows.
He took a couple of test shots before
calling for a shift in two of the reflective umbrellas.
It was going to be a long day.
His head wasnāt in the game. He couldnāt
rid himself of the feel of the blonde in his arms. As soon as heād gone down
and taken her with him, heād wrapped his arms around her. Instinct had taken
over, and heād wanted to protect her from further harm.
Instinct didnāt explain the jolt heād
felt. Or the way sheād fit into his arms as if sheād been made just for that
purpose. Or the way her softness had felt perfect against the sharp angles of
his body.
He would have to seek her out later and
apologize. Maybe he could get her name, offer to buy her dinner.
She was only half of his distraction
today, though.
Italy.
His family.
Nonna.
Nothing was ever going to be the same.
He had a cousin heād never heard of, and something was afoot at Villa Rossi.
Nope. Nothing was ever going to be the
same.
Chariseās clap brought Piero back to the
present.
The model now climbing the stairs wasā¦
Who was she? That wasnāt Patrice or Genevieve. Had they already gone through
the first three models?
āMakeup!ā Chariseās voice boomed in the
marbled space.
The blonde shot out from behind the
curtain, a bag over her shoulder. She stopped by Charise, listened, and then
climbed the stairs with purpose in each step. She had to squeeze up tight
against the banister and rise up on her tiptoes to move around the dressās
fabric, but she did so with agility. One arm looped around the banister, she
used her free hand to pull something out of her bag, and then leaned
precariously over the dressās extravagant train to dab something on the modelās
face.
When Charise whistled, the blonde pulled
herself back to the relative security of the banister and tip-toed her way back
down the steps.
Not before Pieroās finger slipped on the
shutter button and captured her image. A couple of times.
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