Doing Time

Miranda Taylor - Freshman Year: Spring Semester - Part 2

"Here you go." I took the bottle of water hoping the quaking of my hands didn't show and drank. It was refreshing and I felt my body relaxing with each thirst-quenching swallow.  Using the opportunity I discreetly checked out my host. He was tall and lean, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, muscular but not in the way that Will was but nicely built.



Sweeping my gaze away from him I noticed a pile of art supplies near a window along with an easel and some canvases. He didn't look like my idea of an artist so I figured maybe the supplies belonged to a girlfriend or a wife. Glancing at his left hand I didn't see a ring although that didn't mean much.

"Who is the artist? Is that your stuff over there?" Cocking my head toward the easel I set down the water bottle, leaned against the couch and smiled at him. His sofa was cool to the touch, rugged leather, and it smelled good. Somehow it reminded me of him although I don't know why I would think about that or him in such an intimate way. His eyes were an incredible deep green with flecks of brown just like the meadow where he rescued me.

"Did Gambit give you that scar across your nose?" He started to move toward me and my heart started racing. I was not attracted to this guy but there was something about him - I think if he tried to kiss me I wouldn't stop him.

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who just broke the law." His expression gave nothing away as his eyes raked over me. "What is this so-called class assignment that compelled you to trespass on my property?" He stared at me, long and hard stare and I suddenly felt like a child being chastised. I didn't like it even if I did deserve it.

Knowing how foolish my answer was going to sound I stood as tall as I could and glared right back. "Fences, I was supposed to be taking pictures of fences." When he started laughing I admit I got pissed off. "For your information I took some incredibly wonderful pictures of fences before your horse smashed my camera to bits! Not that you would know anything about photography!"

He kept laughing - the man was infuriating - and all I wanted to do was get out of there. I would worry about replacing my camera once I got home. I started for the door mumbling a quick apology when he blocked my way.

"I hardly think Gambit could be confused for a fence by anyone. What is your name?"

Throwing an angry look up at him, I answered. "Miranda Taylor. Now let me pass." I wanted to wipe that amused look off his face.

Instead that insufferable grin persisted. "Ah, Miranda, like the Tempest, the name suits your fiery personality. I'm Ezra Baker."

"You're joking right? Ezra Baker the photographer? That's you?" I felt the heat of humiliation rise in my cheeks. So much for thinking this guy was some cowboy, he was anything but. Ezra Baker was renowned for his provocative black and white photos. I think my Aunt Camilla had even mentioned being photographed by him in passing when we had been shopping downtown. It takes quite a bit to embarrass me but the fact that I had no idea who he was, hadn't recognized him right off, did me in.

I looked around the place but I didn't see one photograph of his anywhere on the walls, at least none I could tell were his. Steering the conversation away from my faux pas I asked, "So who paints?"

He walked toward the easel and I followed like a school girl with a crush on her professor but I wanted to know more about him. "You really are an inquisitive young lady aren't you, intriguing as well as attractive. I paint for the sheer pleasure of it." He turned toward me again and this time his face was more intense and once again unreadable. He leaned in close enough for his voice to vibrate through me and for the first time I picked up a lazy drawl, "I find pleasure in many things beyond the lens." He paused and then took a quick breath. "There is still the matter of you trespassing. I really should call the authorities."

Shit, he was really going to be an arrogant prick. "Please don't do that! I really meant no harm. It was your horse; I couldn't help but want to photograph him. I've already lost an expensive camera and don't know how I am going to replace it. Isn't that punishment enough?" I seriously hoped he was bluffing, having a joke at my expense was far better than being arrested.

Then he did the strangest thing. Taking my chin in his hand Ezra turned my face toward the window before deliberately circling me, raking me up and down again. That smug expression returned when he finally answered. "You really are an exquisite creature, unusual and exotic. I might be willing to set aside your transgression if you agree to sit for me. I'd like to paint you, Miranda."

This could have gone all kinds of sideways but here I was facing an opportunity to work with a famous, if not infamous photographer. Was I going to pass up the opportunity to pick his brain? Hell no, I wasn't. If this was his idea of me doing time I could handle myself. I agreed.