“I just know.”
“How? Wait. You got a massage?”
He felt himself redden.
“Shit. You should look a hell of a lot happier than you do right now, West. What a racket.”
“What’s up?” Rocky Marston called over to them.
“West here. Getting massages. Taking pictures of buck-naked hookers.”
“How do you rate?” Marston asked him. “My last undercover was pizza deliveries on 110-degree summer nights.”
“Rick deserves it,” Jessie said, looking up from her file. “Unlike some cops I know who take advantage of people’s good nature and drag ringers into a friendly game of ball.” Jessie and Rocky played basketball with a coed league.
“I can’t help it those guys went to college.”
“On basketball scholarships?”
The pair settled into bickering, ceasing their harassment of Rick, thank God.
“What’s happening with the upstairs space?” Mark asked him.
“Still building out. Counters and cupboards this week. I check in with the crew every day. What about the Sylvestri horse property? Anything unusual there?”
“Retired racehorses and manure. Nothing out of place in the barns. Not even a small plane. We’re keeping an eye on the store in Scottsdale, too.”
“Bianca’s knit shop. I can’t imagine Sylvestri’d do anything there. He’s pretty devoted to his wife.”
“The only thing Darien Sylvestri’s devoted to is lining his pockets.” Mark stopped, studying him. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing. Bianca’s at the studio a lot. Raves about all Darien does for her.” He shrugged. Was he getting sucked into sympathy for the suspects he’d grown to like? When the shit hit the fan, what would happen to everyone at Mirror, Mirror?
He didn’t want anyone to get hurt—Valerie with her G-strings and genital lollipops and Blythe who wanted to bleach his hair, plus Mona, who’d done something to his spine that made it easier to breathe. Would they be forced out of business by all this?
He shouldn’t care so much. Which was exactly why cops weren’t supposed to get involved with suspects. Innocence could twist into guilt in a heartbeat. He knew that to his soul.
He was suffering from the confusion of living two lives. He had to focus on the case. Get that bastard Sylvestri behind bars and leave Samantha the hell alone.
9
“NEED ANY HELP?” Rick’s words were weighted with meaning. He stood in the doorway of studio two looking in at Samantha, where she crouched, trying to snag a velvet pillow from beneath the chaise. She was instantly transported to the previous afternoon when he’d stripped her naked and kissed her there on this spot.
“Just trying to grab a pillow that fell.” The blue one you chose to match my eyes. She ached at the sight of him. He looked as desolate and lost as she felt.
But that was only natural. Everyone longed for what they’d denied themselves, right?
He came to crouch beside her, dropping the lab envelope he carried onto the chaise between them. “The proofs,” he said, running his palm across the striped surface until his fingers connected with hers. I remember, too.
“Thanks.” She couldn’t hold his gaze, couldn’t stand the heat swelling between them, so much swifter after what had happened.
He’d seen her naked, heard her wild cries, kissed her breasts and her sex. She’d felt him behind his zipper, the hard length of him, proof of his desire for her.
“I can’t quite reach,” she said, bending again.
“Let me.” He leaned down, the tendons in his neck rippling beneath the clean line of his crisp haircut. The animal power of him made her feel faint. She was like a young girl with her first crush. Grow up. You had your fantasy. Be content.
Rick nabbed the pillow and when he put it in place, she could see that he’d gotten himself under control again. Rick seemed to be able to turn his lust on and off like a light switch.
She could do that, too, dammit. She grabbed the envelope and plopped onto the chaise, turning it into a seat, not a spot to make love. “Let’s see how they came out.”
Rick sat beside her, while she scanned the pages, mentally noting her favorites. She’d take the loupe to them under better light, but it was fun to get a preview. The Trudy Norton shots were especially great….
There it was. The picture Rick had taken of her. Sitting right here just after her shattering climax.
She looked…wonderful. Satisfied and still eager and as sexy as hell. The light was golden even without the tungsten, as if the warmth of the moment had colored the air around her.
She felt Rick waiting, so she lifted her eyes to his. “This is a great photograph.”