Her Photographer Phoenix_A Paranormal Romance Read online

  “For the firebirds, of course,” said Ellis. She smiled up at him. “I love all birds, but firebirds are my absolute favorites.”

  “Are they now?” inquired Benton, straightening. He almost sounded… offended. “Why them? There are so many other birds in the world! Better birds!”

  “But no other birds like them,” retorted Ellis, rising to the occasion.

  “They have one party trick, and it isn’t that great!”

  “Party trick? They burn!”

  Benton scoffed. “So do phoenixes. It’s not that hard.”

  “Have you seen a phoenix?” demanded Ellis, straightening. All of her attention was sudden and entirely focused on Benton.

  “Maybe once or twice,” said Benton nonchalantly.

  “Where was it? What happened? Can I go there?”

  Benton laughed.

  “I thought the firebird was your favorite,” he teased, and Ellis narrowed her eyes at him.

  “That doesn’t mean that I can’t be curious!”

  “I’m curious about how long you’re going to be in there,” said Benton. “It’s late, and I think most of the others have already retired.”

  Tipping her head to the side, Ellis listened hard. She heard the cries of the native wildlife, but not the murmur or laughter of other people. He was right. It was probably time to get out and go to bed. Rising, Ellis moved to the edge of the pool, saying, “Can you pass me my shoes?”

  Gallantly, Benton tapped out her shoes then passed them to her one by one, giving Ellis the opportunity to jam one shoe on, step out of the pool, and then jam the other one on. She didn’t bother with a towel. Dripping with spring water, Ellis led the way back to their tent.

  The tent that she slept in now was nothing like the one that Ellis had erected in her bedroom when she was seven. Aside from anything else, it was tall enough that she could stand upright inside of it. It was much, much bigger too.

  Back then, her tent had enclosed a single, small living space. Now, it had two chambers: a tiny front area and a larger living area. They were separated from each other and the outside world by round openings that zipped shut. The double zippers on the doors were supposed to keep scorpions out of the main sleeping area.

  Remembering her unfortunate start to the day, Ellis took extra care with the zippers that night, ignoring her new roommate’s inquisitive gaze.

  When that was done, Ellis turned back to Benton, who was so big that he seemed to fill up all the space, both between them and in her small sleeping area. At a loss for words, she stared at him. Benton stared right back at her.

  “So,” said Ellis finally – and awkwardly. “Maybe we could turn our backs on each other? And that’s how we’ll get ready for bed?”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Benton quickly. “And no peeking?”

  “Of course, no peeking!” agreed Ellis, scandalized. Because it was scandalous! She would never peek!

  Except for the part where Ellis totally peeked.

  She couldn’t help it!

  The first time was an accident – well, sort of. In the sense that she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and automatically turned to look at it, and then was so grateful that he wasn’t a giant, poisonous snake that she stared a heartbeat too long before turning away again, her face hot.

  The other times were… less accidental. But it wasn’t her fault! She just had to check that he was really as hot as she remembered him being.

  He nearly always was. Sometimes, he was hotter.

  It’s just not fair, Ellis thought as she remembered the smooth lines of Benton’s back, his muscles pulling into sharp relief as he shrugged his shirt off. He didn’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on him, and his back looked fantastic for it.

  She had quite a few ounces of fat – a lot in her breasts, some in her butt, and maybe a few around her hips and belly. It made her curvy! And sometimes even jiggly. And she was healthy, that was the important thing. But there was no way that she was going to look as good to him as he looked to her if he peeked.

  Not that he should be peeking on her!

  He’d better not be peeking at her!

  She wasn’t even at her best right now!

  And by the looks of him, he’s always at his best, thought Ellis gloomily, as she yanked her sports bra on. If she needed to run for her life in the middle of the night, she wanted to be comfortable. And it could only help her boobs.

  Not that she wanted Benton to be looking at her boobs.

  Benton finished getting ready for bed before she did. He watched Ellis finished her nightly rituals, his frank gaze making her clumsy. When she was finished, Ellis turned to face him.

  Guh! Ellis thought, higher brain functions once again beyond her. Just… guh!

  It wasn’t her fault! He was even hotter from the front!

  There was his face of course: hair like flames, shockingly blue eyes, and a strong jaw. And then there was the rest of him: lots and lots of tanned skin, smooth pecs and rippling abs that Ellis longed to lick, and a narrow treasure trail disappearing into pajama pants slung low around his sharp hips.

  How was she supposed to share a blow up mattress with all of that? And keep her hands to herself?

  Benton smirked, a wicked curl of his lips that broke Ellis’ brain. Again.

  And then he flexed, curling his arms first down on either side of his torso and then up on either side of his head.

  Ellis shrieked, a small cry of mingled mortification and outrage. Laughing, she grabbed a pillow and whacked him with it. He just kept posing though, and so she kept smacking him with her pillow.

  Ellis walloped Benton with it again and again and again, laughing harder than she had in ages. He was laughing too, though, his large hands coming up to fend off her blows.

  “You’re terrible!” accused Ellis, delighted. “Absolutely awful!”

  “You love it!”

  Benton’s hands found her sides, and he got his own back, tickling her mercilessly.

  Ellis yelped again – she was already laughing. Ellis was horribly ticklish – and whacked Benton more with her pillow.

  But even with all of her whacking, it still felt like Benton was winning, and Ellis threw herself at him. He caught her around the middle and pulled her close, both of them still laughing and silly.

  “You win, you win,” conceded Benton. His hot skin was smooth against Ellis’ cheek, his hands gentle against her back.

  “Good,” said Ellis happily. “Which side do you sleep on? The left or the right?”

  “Whichever side you don’t,” said Benton. “Winner gets to pick her side of the bed.”

  “What if I sleep in the middle?” asked Ellis archly.

  “I could work with that,” said Benton, and even though she couldn’t see his face, something about his tone made Ellis’ belly clench with anticipation.

  Pulling herself away from Benton, Ellis scrambled onto the right side of the bed, leaving the left side – and the other pillow – for him.

  The main sleeping area of her tent was barely big enough to hold her full sized inflatable mattress, both of their packs, and both of them, but it didn’t feel small anymore. Now, it just felt… cozy.

  Benton joined her. The mattress shifted and slanted beneath his added weight, rolling Ellis towards him.

  “Sorry!”

  Before Ellis could try to scramble back to her side of the bed, Benton’s arm found its way around her waist. Ellis froze, automatically sucking it in.

  “It’s fine,” said Benton. His arm flexed around her middle. “It gets so cold here at night. I’m going to need you to keep me warm.”

  Ellis laughed.

  Even the nights were hot during Keris Island’s dry season.

  “You won’t like having me so close in a few minutes,” said Ellis. Even though she wanted to stay where she was, Ellis squirmed away from him.

  “So cruel,” sighed Benton theatrically. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

&n
bsp; “Yes. Good night, Benton.”

  “Night, Ellis.”

  Chapter 06 – Benton

  The next morning, Benton woke before Ellis did. He couldn’t help it. Going to bed next to Ellis Hale was like going to bed next to his best present ever on Christmas Eve. He was too excited to sleep!

  Ellis very obviously did not share his nervous excitement. She was sleeping soundly, her dark hair loose around her tanned face. She was curvy, this woman, with her luscious breasts and the roundness of her hips. Sometime during the night, her t-shirt had rucked up on one side, exposing an expanse of her of pale belly as well as the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip.

  Benton didn’t know if his hand had found hers during the night or hers had found his, but they were holding hands. Her hand was small and soft against his, calloused where she held her pen. Her hand was also cooler than his with practical, unpolished nails, though perhaps they were only unpolished because she was currently living in the middle of the wilderness on a tin can island. Maybe when she was at home, her nails were sillier – although maybe they weren’t.

  Looking at her smaller hand where it rested in his, Benton imagined that he could see their red ribbon tangled all along the length of their hands, around their fingers, and between their wrists. It was a nice thought.

  There was only so long that Benton could bring himself to lay still, be good, and watch Ellis sleep, however. Then he quietly eased away from Ellis, pulled on his clothes, and went outside to see a man about a horse, so to speak.

  When that was done, he wandered back into camp, heading for the mess tent where he found Talman making breakfast. Talman was maybe eighteen or nineteen, and he seemed nice enough, but Benton wasn’t sure about the mess that he was stirring. It looked like a big pot of gritty glue more than anything else. In another world, it might have been cream of wheat or maybe even oatmeal.

  Two days of crap food in a row, thought Benton unhappily.

  When the conversation eventually petered out, Benton excused himself and wandered over to where the camp and chore schedules had been posted. He saw that he and Marc had already been added to them – Ellis worked quickly – but without really knowing the other people on schedules, Benton couldn’t figure out how long it would be until he next got to eat entirely edible food.

  Remembering how interested Ellis had been in his and Marc’s cooking abilities, however, it didn’t look good. Not counting today, it was three days until it was his turn to cook. Three days until he could impress Ellis with his amazing cooking ability.

  Too bad he wasn’t an amazing cook.

  But as long as whoever went before him was as bad at cooking as Talman or Donovan, he was going to look like a star.

  Although that’s a pretty big if, thought Benton, frowning at the cooking schedule.

  Ellis’ research assistants began filing into the tent around then, most of them looking sleepy, resigned, or both, and then the woman herself.

  She hadn’t bothered with makeup – and didn’t need it in Benton’s opinion. She was pretty enough without it – but she had scrubbed her face, scraped her hair back into a ponytail, and brushed her teeth. Today a tawny brown t-shirt stretched across Ellis’ magnificent breasts, although she was wearing the same khakis and boots as yesterday.

  Benton wanted to kiss her good morning.

  He settled for a smile instead, one that widened when Ellis smiled back at him. Straightening, Benton offered Ellis his arm.

  “Breakfast for two?” he asked.

  “Does it look like breakfast?” asked Ellis in an undertone, thus confirming all of Benton’s worst suspicions.

  “More like glue,” murmured Benton, and felt it when Ellis shuddered.

  “At least I’m hungry,” said Ellis, resigned, and Benton nodded, because he was hungry. Last night’s dinner had been terrible. Tonight’s wasn’t looking too promising either.

  Together, they went to claim their bowls of gritty glop. At least the juice in the carafe was from a carton.

  After breakfast – and Benton used that word very loosely – he and Marc went down to the lake with Ellis and the morning team, taking with them a cooler filled with chilled drinks and sandwiches. Benton had high hopes for those sandwiches.

  They spent the morning on the lake, either observing or photographing the firebirds, and the group was just settling down to their packed lunches, when a dull thwack sound and a jab to the top of his boot drew Benton’s gaze down to the firebird standing next to his foot.

  He could have sworn that she hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. As Benton watched, the firebird shuffled through a couple of steps – dance steps.

  Benton blinked.

  When he failed to respond, the firebird pecked his foot again. She stepped back, then to one side, and then forward again. She peered up at Benton expectantly.

  “Is she inviting him to court her?” asked Parker. She sounded equal parts delighted and amused.

  “Yes, I think so,” said Ellis slowly. To Benton’s mingled disappointment and satisfaction, she sounded interested rather than concerned or jealous.

  On the one hand, she had nothing to feel disappointed in him for or jealous about. Phoenixes were as faithful as firebirds to their chosen mates, and he had already chosen her – not that she knew it yet. But they were courting, and that meant something.

  On the other and far pettier hand, a man liked to be appreciated by his woman.

  Pointedly, Benton turned away from the firebird.

  She pecked him in the ankle once, sharply, and then waddled off to dance with someone else.

  Ellis passed him a sandwich and a deliciously cold drink. The drink was heaven, and the sandwich was everything that Benton had hoped it might be: edible.

  After lunch, the research teams switched places, and Benton returned to camp with Ellis and the morning team. Marc chose to stay out with the afternoon team, which was made up of Marissa, Cameron, and Landon.

  Benton didn’t miss him.

  Two was company, but three would have been a crowd in Ellis’ spring. The water, which had been unpleasantly chilly the night before, felt refreshingly cool during the heat of the day. Wading into it was a pleasure.

  Sitting on the smoothed top of a submerged boulder, Benton watched the tiny, brightly colored fish that populated the spring dart about in their mighty fish battles for survival.

  “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” asked Ellis from her place beside him.

  “They are.”

  “I told you this spring was the best!”

  “When the sun is shining,” said Benton. “It’s really cold after dark.”

  “That’s what makes it the best!”

  Benton snorted.

  “I prefer to be a bit warmer,” he said, and Ellis nodded.

  “I noticed,” she said. “You looked as comfortable in the heat as Everett did.”

  “And you looked like you were melting.”

  “I might,” said Ellis cheerfully.

  Benton snorted.

  “Did you not know how hot the dry season on this island got before you guys got here?”

  “No, I knew. This is my fourth year observing the firebirds on Lake Keris. I’m just not going to let a little physical discomfort stop me from pursuing my dreams.”

  It looked like more than a little physical discomfort to Benton, but he didn’t point that out. Instead, he said, “The world is full of birds. So why study firebirds?”

  “Because I told you: there’s nothing else like them!” said Ellis. “They’re tiny, fiery dinosaurs! That might have come from phoenixes! Or fire dragons! Or phoenixes and fire dragons! And nobody else has really made a study of them. I’m learning new things all the time. It’s fun to be the cutting edge of research in an area. Plus, there’s the paper material. In academia, you publish or die.”

  “You still do academics when you aren’t spying on unsuspecting firebirds?”

  “Yeah, I’m a university professor,” said E
llis. She made a face. “I like teaching graduate and doctoral students, but undergrad classes are the worst. Every year, there’s at least a couple of students in my introductory classes that insist that hummingbirds are insects. It’s right there in the name: hummingbird! Not bug!”

  By the end there, Ellis was talking with her hands as much as her mouth, and Benton grinned, enjoying her passion.

  “Have they ever seen a hummingbird?” he inquired idly.

  “It’s not as definitive an argument as you might think,” said Ellis, her tone dire, and Benton laughed.

  “So what about you?” she asked, changing tracks. “What do you do when you’re not photographing unsuspecting firebirds?”

  “I photograph other unsuspecting things and people,” said Benton cheerfully. “I’m an independent photographer. I do one or two big jobs like this for clients every year, and the rest of my time is my own. Sometimes I take other jobs if they interest me, sometimes I just travel and exchange a couple of photographs for room or board or safaris.”

  “Do you travel a lot?”

  “I do! It’s one of my favorite things to do. I’m glad that I got a job that let me do something I love, while I looked for y – for the person that I’ve always wanted to meet.”

  Benton bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say that, but it was miles better than what he had been going to say, which was, ‘I’m glad that I got a job that let me do something I love, while I looked for you.’

  Although what I actually said wasn’t much better, Benton thought despairingly.

  “Oh?” asked Ellis. She sounded curious. “Who’s that? The person that you’ve always wanted to meet, I mean.”

  “Maybe it’s you,” said Benton, leaning closer to Ellis.

  Ellis laughed, casually crushing Benton’s brief attempt at seduction into smithereens.

  “It’s never me,” said Ellis.

  Benton wanted to argue – she was absolutely, positively the one that he had been looking for – but as far as he knew, humans didn’t really believe in soul mates or Red Strings of Fate. To them, those were just nice ideas.

  So instead of saying any of the passionate, ill-advised things that he wanted to say, Benton said, “I’ve read your papers.” Off of Ellis’ look, he added, “Not all of them, but some of them. I wanted to get an idea of moments I should be looking to capture.”