“Get what?” He cocked a brow, feigning ignorance.
“Nothing,” she replied quickly, a blush tinting her cheeks. “I won’t keep you long if you have another…er…engagement.” She glanced in Steffi’s direction.
“No engagements beyond my exhibition…unless you’re free?” The words slipped out thoughtlessly.
Surprise flickered in her gray eyes. “Free for what?”
“Whatever you like.” He gave her the slow, sexy smile that never failed him.
She stared back at him. “You’re joking, right?”
“Am I laughing?”
Her eyes met his for only a millisecond before she looked away. Her face colored even deeper than before. Odd. California women didn’t blush. She seemed so different from all the others he’d met here. Refreshingly different. He found her natural look and direct manner appealing after a steady diet of women like Steffi.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“So do I, but we all need downtime now and then.” He flashed a grin. “Just ask Picasso.”
“You have quite a way with horses,” she said. “It’s an impressive talent.”
“I have a number of other talents I’d like to impress you with,” he quipped back.
Her brows came together in a puzzled look. “Are you flirting with me? You’re wasting your time,” she said.
She was rebuffing him? When was the last time that had happened? He couldn’t even remember. It was a novel experience, and not one he particularly cared for.
She was gazing at him steadily. “Can we please talk about the cameras now?”
“Sure thing.” Her rejection stung, but Keith shrugged it off. If he wanted company, there were hundreds of women coming to his clinic. He could take his pick.
*
“Keith, you had us all entranced,” Bibi gushed after his performance. “You’re such a natural. I know you came out here only to do your clinic, but have you thought about staying in Southern California?”
“Staying? For how long?” he asked.
“Indefinitely,” she replied. “I’m talking about relocation.”
“I really hadn’t considered it before.” It was a half-truth.
He’d thought for some time about making some changes and finally setting down roots somewhere. He’d accepted the invitation to come to Rancho Santa Fe, hoping to explore the opportunities here, but he already knew California wasn’t for him.
“You really should,” Bibi continued. “The camera absolutely loves you. I think we could get you into films. There are so few indigenous actors in L.A. The field is wide-open. All you need to do is enroll in some classes.”
He’d been around long enough to know nothing came for free. It didn’t make sense that someone with her reputation would want to make a promo video for him. He’d wondered from the start what strings were attached.
“You know, I think your looks are exotic enough to carry off several ethnicities.” Her gaze swept slowly over him in a way that answered any lingering doubts about what she wanted. Her lips curved into that suggestive half smile he’d seen countless times. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight and talk about it?”
The thought made him shudder. He wondered how many times her face had been lifted. Bibi was sixty if a day, but fighting the years tooth and nail. He forced a smile. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have plans tonight.” Not exactly true. He’d only hoped to have plans with the camerawoman he’d met a few hours ago, but it was the first excuse that had come to mind.
“Tomorrow then,” Bibi said. “I’ll drive you to my beach house, and we’ll review your tape together.” Her smile tightened. “I won’t take no for an answer. If you have other plans, change them.”
Her message was clear. He wouldn’t get another shot.
Chapter 3
Wind River Valley, Wyoming
Stab, squeeze, lift, release. Another clod of earth displaced. Ignoring his burning muscles and blistered hands, Keith continued the mindless mechanical rhythm under the burning sun, his body on autopilot while his mind raced. He just wished he could manage the direction of those thoughts, but they were as out of his control as the chinook winds. Scowling at the dirt, he raised his arms, jabbing the ground with another grunt.
Stab, squeeze, lift, release. He’d felt like king of the world only a year ago. Was this all he had to look forward to for the next thirty—digging holes, pulling barbwire, and shoveling horse shit? He could only guess that when he’d sold his soul to the devil spirits, it must have been insufficient payment.