by Nora Roberts
“I’m an expert on water games,” she warned him as she began to tread again.
“Water suits you.” When had he relaxed? He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when the tension began to ease from him. There was something about her—laziness? No, that wasn’t true. She worked every bit as hard as he, though in her own fashion. Easiness was a better word, he decided. She was an easy woman, comfortable with herself and whatever surroundings she found herself in.
“It looks pretty good on you, too.” Narrowing her eyes, Bryan focused on him—something she’d avoided for several days. If she didn’t allow herself a clear look it helped bank down on the feelings he brought out in her. Many of them weren’t comfortable, and Shade had been right. She was a woman who liked to be comfortable. But now, with the water lapping cool around her and the only sound that of boats putting in the distance, she wanted to enjoy him.
His hair was damp and tangled around his face, which was as relaxed as she’d ever seen it There didn’t seem to be any secrets in his eyes just now. He was nearly too lean, but there were muscles in his forearms, in his back. She already knew just how strong his hands were. She smiled at him because she wasn’t sure just how many quiet moments they’d share.
“You don’t let up on yourself enough, Shade.”
“No?”
“No. You know…” She floated again because treading took too much effort. “I think deep down, really deep down, there’s a nice person in you.”
“No, there isn’t.”
But she heard the humor in his voice. “Oh, it’s buried in there somewhere. If you let me do your portrait, I’d find it.”
He liked the way she floated in the water; there was absolutely no energy expended. She lay there, trusting buoyancy. He was nearly certain that if she lay quietly for five minutes, she’d be asleep. “Would you?” he murmured. “I think we can both do without that.”
She opened her eyes again, but had to squint against the sun to see him. It was at his back, glaring. “Maybe you can, but I’ve already decided to do it—once I know you better.”
He circled her ankle with his finger, lightly. “You have to have my cooperation to do both.”
“I’ll get it.” The contact was more potent than she could handle. She’d tensed before she could stop it. And so, she realized after a long ten seconds, had he. Casually, she let her legs drop. “The water’s getting cold.” She swam toward the boat with smooth strokes and a racing heart.
Shade waited a moment. No matter what direction he took with her, he always ended up in the same place. He wanted her, but wasn’t certain he could handle the consequences of acting on that desire. Worse now, she was perilously close to becoming his friend. That wouldn’t make things any easier on either of them.
Slowly, he swam out of the cove and toward the boat, but she wasn’t there. Puzzled, he looked around and started to call, when he saw her perched high on the rock.
She’d unbraided her hair and was brushing it dry in the sun. Her legs were folded under her, her face tilted up. The thin summer clothes she wore were drenched and clung to every curve. She obviously didn’t care. It was the sun she sought, the heat, just as she’d sought the cool water only moments before.
Shade reached in his camera bag and attached his long lens. He wanted her to fill the viewfinder. He focused and framed her. For the second time her careless sexuality gave him a staggering roundhouse punch. He was a professional, Shade reminded himself as he set the depth of field. He was shooting a subject, that was all.
But when she turned her head and her eyes met his through the lens, he felt the passion sizzle—from himself and from her. They held each other there a moment, separated, yet irrevocably joined. He took the picture, and as he did, Shade knew he was recording a great deal more than a subject.
A bit steadier, Bryan rose and worked her way down the curve of the rock. She had to remind herself to play it lightly—something that had always come easily to her. “You didn’t get a release form, Colby,” she reminded him as she dropped her brush into her oversize bag.
Reaching out, he touched her hair. It was damp, hanging rich and heavy to her waist. His fingers curled into it, his eyes locked on hers. “I want you.”
She felt her legs liquefy, and heat started somewhere in the pit of her stomach and spread out to her fingertips. He was a hard man, Bryan reminded herself. He wouldn’t give, but take. In the end, she’d need him to do both.
“That’s not good enough for me,” she said steadily. “People want all the time—a new car, a color TV. I have to have more than that.”
She stepped around him and into the boat. Without a word, Shade joined her and they drifted away from the cove. As the boat picked up speed, both of them wondered if Shade could give any more than what he’d offered.
Chapter 5
Bryan had romanticized Oak Creek Canyon over the years since she’d been there. When she saw it again, she wasn’t disappointed. It had all the rich strength, all the colors she’d remembered.
Campers would be pocketed through it, she knew. They’d be worth some time and some film. Amateur and serious fishermen by the creek, she mused, with their intense expressions and colorful lures. Evening campfires with roasting marshmallows. Coffee in tin cups. Yes, it would be well worth the stop.
They planned to stay for three days, working, developing and printing. Bryan was itching to begin. But before they drove into town to handle the details, they’d agreed to stop in the canyon where Bryan could see Lee and her family.
“According to the directions, there should be a little dirt road leading off to the right just beyond a trading post.”
Shade watched for it. He, too, was anxious to begin. Some of the shots he’d taken were pulling at him to bring them to life. He needed the concentration and quiet of the darkroom, the solitude of it. He needed to let his creativity flow, and hold in his hands the results.
The picture of Bryan sitting on the island of rock. He didn’t like to dwell on that one, but he knew it would be the first roll he developed.
The important thing was that he’d have the time and the distance he’d promised himself. Once he dropped her at her friends’—and he was certain they’d want her to stay with them—he could go into Sedona, rent the darkroom and a motel room for himself. After living with her for twenty-four hours a day, he was counting on a few days apart to steady his system.
They’d each work on whatever they chose—the town, the canyon, the landscape. That gave him room. He’d work out a schedule for the darkroom. With luck, they wouldn’t so much as see each other for the next three days.
“There it is,” Bryan told him, though he’d already seen the narrow road and slowed for it. She looked at the steep tree-lined road and shook her head. “God, I’d never have pictured Lee here. It’s so wild and rough and she’s… well, elegant.”
He’d known a few elegant women in his life. He’d lived with one. Shade glanced at the terrain. “What’s she doing here, then?”
“She fell in love,” Bryan said simply and leaned forward. “There’s the house. Fabulous.”
Glass and style. That’s what she thought of it. It wasn’t the distinguished town house she would have imagined for Lee, but Bryan could see how it would suit her friend. There were flowers blooming, bright red-orange blossoms she couldn’t identify. The grass was thick, the trees leafy.
In the driveway were two vehicles, a dusty late-model Jeep and a shiny cream-colored sedan. As they pulled up behind the Jeep, a huge silver-gray form bounded around the side of the house. Shade swore in sheer astonishment.
“That must be Santanas.” Bryan laughed but gave the dog a wary going-over with her door firmly closed.
Fascinated, Shade watched the muscles bunch as the dog moved. But the tail was wagging, the tongue lolling. Some pet, he decided. “It looks like a wolf.”
“Yeah.” She continued to look out the window as the dog paced up and down the side of the van. “Lee tells me he’
s friendly.”
“Fine. You go first.”
Bryan shot him a look that he returned with a casual smile. Letting out a deep breath, Bryan opened the door. “Nice dog,” she told him as she stepped out, keeping one hand on the handle of the door. “Nice Santanas.”
“I read somewhere that Brown raised wolves,” Shade said carelessly as he stepped out of the opposite side.
“Cute,” Bryan mumbled and cautiously offered her hand for the dog to sniff.
He did so, and obviously liked her because he knocked her to the ground in one bounding leap. Shade was around the van before Bryan had a chance to draw a breath. Fear and fury had carried him, but whatever he might’ve done was stopped by the sound of a high whistle.
“Santanas!” A young girl darted around the house, braids flying. “Cut it out right now. You’re not supposed to knock people down.”
Caught in the act, the huge dog plopped down on his belly and somehow managed to look innocent. “He’s sorry.” The girl looked at the tense man looming over the dog and the breathless woman sprawled beside him. “He just gets excited when company comes. Are you Bryan?”
Bryan managed a nod as the dog dropped his head on her arm and looked up at her.
“It’s a funny name. I thought you’d look funny too, but you don’t. I’m Sarah.”
“Hello, Sarah.” Catching her wind, Bryan looked up at Shade. “This is Shade Colby.”
“Is that a real name?” Sarah demanded.
“Yeah.” Shade looked down as the girl frowned up at him. He wanted to scold her for not handling her dog, but found he couldn’t. She had dark, serious eyes that made him want to crouch down and look into them from her level. A heartbreaker, he decided. Give her ten years and she’ll break them all.
“Sounds like something from one of my dad’s books. I guess it’s okay.” She grinned down at Bryan and shuffled her sneakers in the dirt. Both she and her dog looked embarrassed. “I’m really sorry Santanas knocked you down. You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”
Since it was the first time anyone had bothered to ask, Bryan thought about it. “No.”
“Well, maybe you won’t say anything to my dad.” Sarah flashed a quick smile and showed her braces. “He gets mad when Santanas forgets his manners.”
Santanas swiped an enormous pink tongue over Bryan’s shoulder.
“No harm done,” she decided.
“Great. We’ll go tell them you’re here.” She was off in a bound. The dog clambered up and raced after her without giving Bryan a backward look.
“Well, it doesn’t look like Lee’s settled for a dull life,” Bryan commented.
Shade reached down and hauled her to her feet. He’d been frightened, he realized. Seriously frightened for the first time in years, and all because a little girl’s pet had knocked down his partner.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” With quick swipes she began to brush the dirt off her jeans. Shade ran his hands up her arms, stopping her cold.
“Sure?”
“Yes, I…” She trailed off as her thoughts twisted into something incoherent. He wasn’t supposed to look at her like that, she thought. As though he really cared. She wished he’d look at her like that again, and again. His fingers were barely touching her arms. She wished he’d touch her like this again. And again.
“I’m fine,” she managed finally. But it was hardly more than a whisper, and her eyes never left his.
He kept his hands on her arms. “That dog had to weigh a hundred and twenty.”
“He didn’t mean any harm.” Why, she wondered vaguely, were they talking about a dog when there really wasn’t anything important but him and her?
“I’m sorry.” His thumb skimmed over the inside of her elbow where the skin was as soft as he’d once imagined. Her pulse beat like an engine. “I should’ve gotten out first instead of playing around.” If she’d been hurt… He wanted to kiss her now, right now, when he was thinking only of her and not the reasons that he shouldn’t.
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured and found that her hands were resting on his shoulders. Their bodies were close, just brushing. Who had moved? “It doesn’t matter,” she said again, half to herself as she leaned closer. Their lips hovered, hesitated, then barely touched. From the house came the deep, frantic sound of barking. They drew back from each other with something close to a jerk.
“Bryan!” Lee let the door slam behind her as she came onto the porch. It wasn’t until she’d already called out that she noticed how intent the two people in her driveway were on each other.
With a quick shudder, Bryan took another step back before she turned. Too many feelings, was all she could think. Too many feelings too quickly.
“Lee.” She ran over—or ran away—she wasn’t certain. All she knew was at that moment she needed someone. Grateful, she felt herself closed in Lee’s arms. “Oh God, it’s so good to see you.”
The greeting was just a little desperate. Lee took a long look over Bryan’s shoulder at the man who remained several paces back. Her first impression was that he wanted to stay that way. Separate. What had Bryan gotten herself into? she wondered and gave her friend a fierce hug.
“I’ve got to look at you,” Bryan insisted, laughing now as the tension drained. The elegant face, the carefully styled hair—they were the same. But the woman wasn’t. Bryan could feel it before she glanced down to the rounded swell beneath Lee’s crisp summer dress.
“You’re happy.” Bryan gripped Lee’s hands. “It shows. No regrets?”
“No regrets.” Lee took a long, hard study. Bryan looked the same, she decided. Healthy, easy, lovely in a way that seemed exclusively her own. The same, she thought, but for the slightest hint of trouble in her eyes. “And you?”
“Things are good. I’ve missed you, but I feel better about it after seeing you here.”
With a laugh, Lee slipped her arm around Bryan’s waist. If there was trouble, she’d find the source. Bryan was hopeless at hiding anything for long. “Come inside. Sarah and Hunter are making iced tea.” She sent a significant look in Shade’s direction and felt Bryan tense. Just a little, but Lee felt it and knew she’d already found the source.
Bryan cleared her throat. “Shade.”
He moved forward, Lee thought, like a man who was used to testing the way.
“Lee Radcliffe—Lee Radcliffe Brown,” she corrected and relaxed a bit. “Shade Colby. You remember when I spent the money I’d saved for a new car on one of his prints.”
“Yes, I told you you were crazy.” Lee extended her hand and smiled, but her voice was cool. “It’s nice to meet you. Bryan’s always admired your work.”
“But you haven’t,” he returned with more interest and respect than he’d intended to feel.
“I often find it harsh, but always compelling,” Lee said simply. “Bryan’s the expert, not me.”
“Then she’d tell you that we don’t take pictures for experts.”
Lee nodded. His handshake had been firm—not gentle, but far from cruel. His eyes were precisely the same. She’d have to reserve judgment for now. “Come inside, Mr. Colby.”
He’d intended to simply drop Bryan off and move along, but he found himself accepting. It wouldn’t hurt, he rationalized, to cool off a bit before he drove into town. He followed the women inside.
“Dad, if you don’t put more sugar in it, it tastes terrible.”
As they walked into the kitchen, they saw Sarah with her hands on her hips watching her father mop up around a pitcher of tea.
“Not everyone wants to pour sugar into their system the way you do.”
“I do.” Bryan grinned when Hunter turned. She thought his work brilliant—often cursing him for it in the middle of the night when it kept her awake. She thought he looked like a man one of the Bronte sisters would have written about—strong, dark, brooding. But more, he was the man who loved her closest friend. Bryan opened her arms to him.
“It’s good to
see you again.” Hunter held her close, chuckling when he felt her reach behind him to the plate of cookies Sarah had set out. “Why don’t you gain weight?”
“I keep trying,” Bryan claimed and bit into the chocolate chip cookie. “Mmm, still warm. Hunter, this is Shade Colby.”
Hunter put down his dishcloth. “I’ve followed your work,” he told Shade as they shook hands. “It’s powerful.”
“That’s the word I’d use to describe yours.”
“Your latest had me too paranoid to go down to the basement laundry room for weeks,” Bryan accused Hunter. “I nearly ran out of clothes.”
Hunter grinned, pleased. “Thanks.”
She glanced around the sunlit kitchen. “I guess I expected your house to have cobwebs and creaking boards.”
“Disappointed?” Lee asked.
“Relieved.”
With a laugh, Lee settled at the kitchen table with Sarah on her left and Bryan across from her. “So how’s the project going?”
“Good.” But Lee noticed she didn’t look at Shade as she spoke. “Maybe terrific. We’ll know more once we develop the film. We’ve made arrangements with one of the local papers for the use of a darkroom. All we have to do is drive into Sedona, check in and get a couple of rooms. Tomorrow, we work.”
“Rooms?” Lee set down the glass Hunter handed her. “But you’re staying here.”
“Lee.” Bryan gave Hunter a quick smile as he offered the plate of cookies. “I wanted to see you, not drop in bag and baggage. I know both you and Hunter are working on new books. Shade and I’ll be up to our ears in developing fluid.”
“How are we supposed to visit if you’re in Sedona?” Lee countered. “Damn it, Bryan, I’ve missed you. You’re staying here.” She laid a hand on her rounded stomach. “Pregnant women have to be pampered.”
“You should stay,” Shade put in before Bryan could comment. “It might be the last chance for quite a while for a little free time.”
“We’ve a lot of work to do,” Bryan reminded him.
“It’s a short drive into town from here. That won’t make any difference. We’re going to need to rent a car, in any case, so we can both be mobile.”