Off Kilter Read Online Free PDF

time of need. She was objective enough about herself to know that while Kira might love her despite her faults, she had probably also known that Tessa hadn’t been the one to turn to for help or comfort.
    It made her deeply question what kind of person she’d become—because Kira would have been right. Keeping herself from feeling … well, anything, was the only way Tessa had managed to do her job.
    Fortunately, Kira had had a real home to return to. The only home Tessa had wasn’t a place she could go. Frankly, and possibly quite pathetically, the only home she had was wherever Kira was.
    She’d been blessed by the open-armed welcome she’d received when she’d shown up on her oldest and only friend’s doorstep—duffel bag and camera gear in tow—and a haunted, ravaged look on her face.
    Kira busied herself cutting up pieces of tiffin and digging out plates, while Tessa slid mercifully into the autopilot zone of work. They weren’t challenging images. And that was fine with her at the moment.
    Kira slid the plate of freshly baked heaven onto the table, and topped off Tessa’s mug with hot water. “Stop worrying.”
    Tessa looked up and frowned, truly nonplussed. “About what? The calendar guys? I’m not worried. We’ve got some decentshots. It was good light out there yesterday. And the subjects were willing enough.”
Most of them, anyway.
Her thoughts veered to Roan and his affable grin and his big … sword, and she veered them right back. “You’ll have as good a chance of winning this thing as anybody else.”
    Kira smiled. “I’ve always admired your ability to own your talent.”
    Tessa shrugged. “It’s not ego, it’s—”
    “Honesty. I know. That’s why I like it. Your confidence will go a long way to making everyone here feel better about our chances.”
    “I’m not giving any guarantees,” she warned, even as her thoughts drifted to the shots presently drying in the pantry. “But if they don’t pick at least one of your island heathens for their pretty boy collection, then they’re either blind, or lack a pulse.”
    Kira laughed. “They’re not all heathens, ye ken.” Then she pretended to think about that. “Wait, yes they are.” She sat down again and nibbled some chocolate crunch while she watched Tessa click open her editing software and begin working on a select few shots. “What I meant, earlier,” she went on, her voice a soft comfort as the silence stretched companionably, “was you don’t have to worry that I’m going to pry.”
    Tessa sent her a sharp sideways glance, feeling a little caught off guard. She’d let her defenses down and had no immediate response that wouldn’t either be a flat-out lie or simply confirm what Kira was already suspecting. “What do you think of this one?” she asked instead, and shifted her laptop monitor to cut the glare.
    She held Kira’s gaze as steadily as she could, and felt like a jerk for not finding a better way to acknowledge her friend’s support. But she simply couldn’t go there. Not yet.
    Kira held Tessa’s gaze only a beat longer, long enough to confirm that she knew something wasn’t right with her friend, then mercifully turned her attention to the monitor. “Ranald?” She glanced at Tessa, then back to the screen. “Really?”
    Tessa frowned and switched instinctively back into professional mode. Lately that had been a special hell all its own, but, at the moment, it felt like the haven it had always been for her in the past. She narrowed her gaze and critically studied the photograph. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “It? I’m not talking about the composition. I’m talking about Ranald. He’s …” She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    “‘Tis simply no’ right, Tessa, for a man to have that much hair.” She shuddered. “Everywhere.”
    Nonplussed, Tessa looked at the picture once again. “This is the sexiest Highlanders calendar. Highlanders aren’t