Comfortable in her role, she let the pull of the camera take over. For a while, all thoughts shut off and she was captivated by the moment. She’d always been happier behind the lens than in front of it, as if the voyeur inside of her burst free and got permission to invade another person’s privacy while remaining safely distant. She liked to push barriers and comfort zones in order to get the perfect shot, and she never quit until she hit pay dirt.

Sweating under the hot lights, she called for a break and guzzled a bottle of water. Her makeup artist had whisked Carina away to transform her. Maggie still laughed at the expression on the young girl’s face when she got a glimpse of the half-naked men onstage—like a female set loose on a designer clearance sale. Hopefully, she’d gain a bit of confidence, have some fun, and Maggie could safely return her to Michael in a better mood.

The image of Michael pushing her against the wall, ripping open her top, and sucking on her breasts shuddered through her. Heat rushed and settled between her legs. What was going on with her? She’d never had such a strong reaction to a man. Attraction, yes. Raw, naked, crazy lust to jump his bones? No.

She’d been stupid, though. Hadn’t seen that move coming. The man distracted her with his comforting embrace. Men believed she hated cuddling, which she normally did, but when had a man even tried to hold her without sex getting in the picture?

The kiss last night was worse. Sweet, tender, and full of promise.

Maybe if she slept with him, this wanting would go away. It always did. Maybe one hot, sweaty night would flush him out of her system, and she could go on with the rest of the week without teenage hormones.

She finished her water and studied the lineup of three models. All bodily perfect. Oiled up. Ready to go. What was she missing?

The underwear was edgy and screamed designer. But if she didn’t do her job, it would look just like Calvin Klein and the rest of them and wouldn’t stand out. Damned if she’d have her work rated second class. Frustrated, she nibbled at her lower lip.

The expression on all three men’s faces suddenly changed. Maggie paused, then peeked behind her shoulder.

Wowza.

Carina stood before her. The makeup artist preened and Maggie took in the vision of a girl turned into a young woman. Her skin glowed as if lit from beneath, with light foundation and a hint of peach in her cheeks, and she had a touch of a smoky eye. Her pouty lips held a glossy sheen, both virginal and tempting. Her once frizzy hair now lay in neat, shiny ringlets surrounding her face, giving her a pop that forced people to pay attention. She still wore her jeans, but had traded her plain T-shirt for a red camisole over a gauzy shirt that emphasized the ripe swell of her breasts but still kept her modesty.

Sheer pleasure rushed through her as Carina walked over with confidence. And by the reaction of all three men on the stage, well, she’d hit her mark perfectly.

“You look gorgeous,” Maggie said. She touched the girl’s springy black curls. “Do you like it?”

Carina nodded furiously. “I can’t believe I look like this.”

Maggie smiled. “I do. And I think my men agree.”

Carina blushed and shifted her feet, then snuck a glance at the models. The men looked suddenly enchanted with the girl who had practically been ignored before her transformation. Maggie suspected the look of lusty innocence was a rare combination, and her confidence being ratcheted up was like a siren call to men. Nothing more attractive than a woman who liked herself. But something else in their current expression pulled at her, an emotion she rarely caught on a male’s face, and—

Lightbulb.

Maggie ignored her galloping heart as a rush of adrenaline took hold. The perfect shot. Right there in front of her. “Come with me.” She grabbed Carina’s hand and dragged her up to the set. With quick movements, she rearranged the set, moved her camera, and adjusted the lighting. “Decklan, Roberto, Paolo, this is Carina. She’s now in the shoot with you.”

“What?” Carina squeaked.

She positioned Carina to the edge of the stage and cast her in shadow. “Cross your arms like this.” Maggie adjusted Carina’s pose to lean against the wall in a casual stance. “Now, look out the window as if you’re dreaming of something. Something that makes you happy. Don’t worry, your features will be blurred and your figure in shadow. Okay?”

“But I can’t—”

“Please?”

Carina shook a bit, then slowly nodded. Her features tense, she tried to give Maggie what she wanted. Maggie whirled back to the models and lined them up in a jagged line. The slight bulges in their underwear didn’t embarrass her—in fact, it was exactly what had been missing in the shot. “Listen up. Your target is her.” She pointed to Carina, who looked stiff and uncomfortable. “Imagine what it would be like to approach her, to give her her first kiss, to make her feel like a woman. That’s what I want. Now.”

She grabbed her camera and pressed the shutter release. Calling out instructions, she moved like a madwoman to capture the element of the elusive . . . of innocence . . . wanting . . . temptation. It was more than a shot about pretty-looking underwear. This was about buying an emotion.

As the time ticked, her surroundings faded away. Finally, something flickered across Carina’s face. A small smile rested on her face. The men shifted, studied her, and then—

Click.

Got it.

Satisfaction surged and her body loosened with relief. “We’re done. That’s a wrap.”

A combined shout of approval rose from the models and staff. Maggie grinned with pleasure, turned on her heel, and came face-to-face with her husband.

Uh-oh.

He stood before her in a black Armani suit, a crisp royal-blue shirt, and bright red tie. His perfectly controlled posture contradicted the seething emotions in those dark eyes. His gaze deliberately raked over her, then swept back to the stage. Carina’s chuckle drifted in the air and Maggie didn’t have to turn to know she was probably talking and flirting with Decklan. A supermodel in tiny briefs.

She was so screwed.

Fear rushed through her and caused her back to straighten in pure rebellion of the messy emotion. “I can explain.”

His voice came out whisper-soft and rattled her nerve endings. “I’m sure you can.”

Why did he seem rough around the edges? As if he called for a woman to dive beneath the polish and discover all that primitive maleness beneath? He grew up with money, a good family, and relatively few problems. She didn’t resent it, but most men she met with staid backgrounds left her cold and a bit flat. Not Michael. It would take ages to discover all his layers, and she’d bet he’d still keep surprising her. Fortunately, she had no intention of getting to know anything about his Italian temper.

Her mouth worked to spit the words out. “Well, I decided to treat Carina to a makeover while I worked so she wouldn’t have to see the models in their underwear, because I knew you wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

He snapped his voice like a whip. “And that is why I saw her on the stage with the same naked models. Because of your protection.”

She winced. This wasn’t coming out the way she’d planned. “You didn’t let me finish. And they’re not naked. So I was having a terrible time getting the shot I needed. Then Carina came out, and she was so happy about her appearance, and so much more confident . . . the men got this look on their faces, it was quite incredible, really—I’ve never seen anything so pure in this business, and I knew I had to capture the expression in order to get something fresh.”

“Pure?” His brow hiked up and fury sparked from his eyes. “You put my baby sister in your shot to be gawked at by strange naked men in order to capture purity? Is this your defense, Maggie? Would you sacrifice anything just to sell a few ads?”

Whoa. Her fear melted away. How dare he? She sneered and threw her head back. “They. Are. Not. Naked. You’re twisting my words, Count. As for sacrifice, it seems I’m willing to do a lot of that in the name of true love. Even have a fake marriage with you.”

He pushed his face toward hers and hissed under his breath. “You didn’t do it for true love, cara. Don’t ever forget you got your pound of flesh for this bargain.”

“Oh, yeah, so sorry I won’t let you pant all over my sister-in-law and make moony eyes at her from across the room.”

His mouth fell open. “You are crazy. I told you over and over I am not in love with Alexa. It is your delusions and need to control everything around you. And what does this have to do with Carina and your bit of exhibitionism?”

“I cast her in shadow; no one will really see her face. I would never expose her to anything inappropriate.”

His body shook with hot male frustration. “You already did!”

“Michael?” Carina flew between them and gave her brother a big hug. The affection and worry in his gaze clearly showed Maggie he did not know how to deal with his youngest sister growing up. “Did you see me up there, Michael?” she squealed. “I was a real model.”

“You were wonderful, cara.” His hand gently touched her springy curls. “Who did this?”

“I got a makeover. You should have seen Maggie work, I’ve never been at a shoot before and it was ultracool. Now I may be in the real ad, and the models are supernice. Decklan invited me to dinner with some of the other models and—”

“Absolutely not.” His brows came together in a fierce frown. “I’m glad you had fun, but the shoot is now over. You will not be going out with some strange men you don’t know. Besides, you’re babysitting for Uncle Brian tonight.”