Chapter 9

42.4K 1.5K 166
                                    

The room I'm standing in is actually a studio. A photo studio. It's got everything you'd need for a photoshoot, but Victoria could tell more about this than I can.

It's a room with a lot of light and different cameras lie on the table by the wall. The room is also almost bare, only a minimal of furniture in it.

There's a big white linen coming down from the ceiling to the floor. "So you are actually taking pictures in your free time," I choose to comment.

"I am," Damien agrees with a nod, standing with his feet apart and with his hands in his pockets, not hiding that he's proud of this.

He leads me to another room, which should be a bathroom, but he's transformed it into a room for creating pictures - a darkroom. This room is completely dark without any natural light in it and with a red light illuminating the room.

I walk inside, looking at the pictures that are hanging from the string. It's the same woman on all of them in elegant poses, some of them even sexy. In some, she's dressed in a dress, there are some she's in jeans and a simple shirt, and then there are the ones she's only ... in her lingerie.

I raise my eyebrows at Damien. "You photograph women only?"

He looks at where I'm looking. "Yeah. Mostly."

"Models?" I ask.

That explains all the women parading out of his flat, too. But it doesn't explain him making out with them.

Damien nods. "Yes. Or trying to be. Some of them are already well-known or have a potential of becoming famous."

I look back at the pictures. I know close to nothing about the models. I only know Victoria and she's ... on another level. I don't think all models are like her, of course not, but she's really ruining their image of them for me in my head.

"And you sleep with all of them?" I decide on asking next, hoping I'm not over-stepping my boundaries. But I've seen him with them. And they don't only have a professional relationship.

I definitely don't make out with my co-workers, or even worse, my bosses.

"Come, Brooke, let's go out of this room," Damien avoids my question.

I purse my lips and go after him, my heels clicking.

"You're not going to answer my question? Don't worry, I won't judge." I wink at him, crossing my arms when chills suddenly run down my body at the look he gives me.

He gives me an indescribable look, a mixture of annoyance and discomfort. And I think that maybe I really did get too far with my question.

But Damien answers me, anyway. "With some of them I do, yes," he answers, avoiding my eyes now.

I process what he tells me. I already knew this, at least I suspected it and even expected this to be his answer. It's still a weird feeling, hearing him confirm my thoughts. "Thank you for showing me this. I think it's great, what you do, I mean. And even though I don't have much clue about photography or modelling, I suspect you're doing a good job."

Damien puts his hands in his pockets again, looking at me with an intense look and a wonder in his eyes. "I showed you this room with a purpose, actually."

He continues looking at me as I silently wait for him to elaborate. "I want to photograph you."

I almost choke on air. But I can't stop the laugh coming out of my mouth that bubbled in my throat. Have I actually heard correctly? "Me?" I ask. "But I'm not a model. Nor do I want to be one."

The thought alone is absurd to me. Me? A model? Please. I love food too much. And camera hates my face. And body for that matter.

Damien shakes his head as he steps closer to me, a dark look in his eyes now. "No, moro. I didn't mean it like that. I want to take pictures of you for my pleasure. And my eyes only, of course," he surprises me once again with his words.

His to Love (His #3)Where stories live. Discover now