Free His Dark Obsession by Zoe Blake Page A

sat exposing her bosom for a painter doing a classical theme. Victoria was the model for a risqué perfume advertisement showing her breasts and one nude limb which appeared in a gentleman’s periodical.
    Her mind decided, Sarah quickly undid the small pearl buttons of her blouse.
    ~*~
    Pierce turned at the sound of the door opening and once again found himself amused by the antics of his little minx. She obviously had found the wardrobe. She was dressed in a burgundy and green brocade robe with a silver fox fur trim. The luxurious colors highlighted the golden tones of her skin and the jade in her eyes. Her hair, always a pleasing point for him, was down and brushed to a high sheen. By the peak of her toes from under the hem, he could at least surmise she had undressed to the point of removing her stockings. Intriguing.
    “Should I…” Sarah cleared her throat, “should I just sit there?” She finished by pointing to the blue upholstered bench.
    “If you would,” he responded, still admiring the view she presented, already thinking of multiple poses he would like to see her in.
    Sarah sat gingerly on the edge of the bench, very quickly losing her nerve.
    Staring down at her exposed toes, she decided to break the silence. “What is that you are holding?”
    Moving to stand over her so she could better see the black box he had in his hand, Pierce answered, “It’s a camera, little one.”
    “It doesn’t look like a camera. It’s far too small!”
    “That is the point, a rather ingenious chap named George Eastman, from your country as a matter of fact, is trying to create smaller cameras that can more easily be transported about. This is a very early model. Do you want to know the rather silly name he has for it?”
    “Yes, please.” Focusing on the camera and not her state of undress before him was helping her ease a bit.
    “Brownie,” he laughed.
    “Be serious!”
    Laying his hand over his heart, he teased, “I assure you I am. He thinks it is a novel name.”
    “But it is not even brown! It’s black!”
    “Apparently it is the name for Scottish fairies or some such nonsense. You Americans are an odd lot at times, I must say.”
    Ignoring the small jibe at her countrymen, Sarah asked, “I see the lens but how do you slide the film in?”
    “That is the ingenious part. Eastman has managed to create film on a roll of paper of all things. The film is inside. This little box actually has twelve exposures. I can take one photo after another just holding it in my hand without having to change plates.”
    “Are you going to take my photo with it?”
    “If you are a very good girl,” he said, touching the tip of her nose with his finger. “Now let’s get started, we are wasting light.”
    Sarah was pleased. He did not seem angry at her borrowing the dressing gown or her tardiness in fact. She settled in for a pleasant afternoon session in his enigmatic presence.
    Pierce put down the camera and approached the bench once more. Sarah could feel the palatable change in the atmosphere. It was as if lightening had just struck, leaving a lingering burst of energy and sparks in its wake. She held her breath focusing on the tops of his boots, afraid to raise her eyes.
    Pierce reached down to cup her chin, forcing her head back. Looking into her wide, slightly wary eyes, he felt a tightening in his groin with what he had planned for her later. The poor little minx actually thought she had escaped punishment for being late after he explicitly warned her not to be. It will be interesting to capture the transition in expressions across her beautiful gamine face on film; from serene to one of pain-filled desire.
    “I want you to lie back. Drape your hair about you,” he instructed. The lowering of his voice to a husky murmur adding to the charged atmosphere.
    Sarah stayed seated but gingerly leaned back, allowing the mass of tangle locks to fall about her.
    “Let me help you.”
    Leaning down on one knee, Pierce