She closed the picture window, her heart racing. Unfortunately, her imagination picked up where the photos left off. The sound of running water conjured a slick, soapy fantasy of lathered chest hair and hot skin.
While she sat there with a glazed-over expression, trying to gather her wits, he finished showering and came out in record time. He was wearing his jeans and the sweater she’d cut down the middle, along with a white V-neck T-shirt of hers. It was loose on her but snug on him. He looked kind of like a hipster in it. A hipster professor.
“How did they turn out?”
She glanced at the thumbnail proofs. “Good.”
He came up beside her chair and braced his hand on the corner of the desk. Although he didn’t crowd her, she could smell him, all clean and fresh. Swallowing hard, she clicked the slide-show option so he could study each one.
The photos, like the shoot, started off innocent and became increasingly sexualized. By the time they reached the end of the roll, he radiated embarrassment.
“Which is your favorite?” she asked, going back to the thumbnails.
His mouth twisted with distaste, as if he didn’t like any. That didn’t surprise her. Subjects weren’t always a fair judge of their own images. “This one,” he said, pointing to the least revealing kitchen shot.
Paige clicked on one from the other end of the spectrum. She’d caught him looking over his shoulder at her. The angle made his back appear broader, almost warrior-like. The oil wasn’t as apparent on film. It merely helped to define his muscles and emphasize the sweaty gleam. “This is the best.”
He rubbed a hand down his face, doubtful.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I look like I want to rip your clothes off.”
Thrilled by this description, she examined it again. The raw sensuality in his gaze made her shiver. Portraits weren’t her strong suit, so she was pleased to have taken such a compelling shot. When she photographed athletes, she usually focused on capturing the physical feat, not their facial expressions. “Hmm.”
“Compare it to the one of you in the pool. Can you do that?”
With a few clicks of the mouse, she put them side by side.
“Yours is beautiful and sexy but elegant. Understated. Mine is about as subtle as that brick I was lifting.”
While she agreed that the photos had different sensibilities, she liked the earthiness of his. “Maybe you’re having trouble seeing yourself, or any man, as a sex object.”
He mulled that over, conceding her point.
“Would you raise any protests if the photo of me was dirty and inelegant?”
“Protests? No. That’s not what I’d raise.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Professor or not, he reminded her of the naughty boy at the back of the class. “I’ll email the proofs to you when my internet is working.”
“I thought you were going to keep them for ‘personal use.’”
She flushed, knowing she’d be tempted. The shots were already burning up her hard drive and giving her hot flashes. Better to get rid of them—and him—before she did something she regretted. Closing the screen abruptly, she rose from her desk. “I guess I’ll take a shower, too,” she said, skirting by him.
In her bedroom, she grabbed a soft blue tunic and slouchy gray sweatpants. Selecting underwear was more difficult. If she wore cute panties, she might as well throw them at him. Roomy cotton briefs would be more sensible. Feeling rebellious, she snatched up a frilly pair anyway. She wasn’t so weak willed that she’d let a scrap of lace rule her libido.
Holding the clothes to her chest, she headed toward the bathroom, pausing when he approached her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“Saying...inappropriate things. I joke around when I’m nervous. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
His apology was sweet. And totally uncalled for. His sense of humor didn’t bother her. The sexy photo shoot had been her idea. Maybe she should be apologizing. “Your jokes don’t make me uncomfortable.”
He frowned with confusion. “I also didn’t mean to get...uh...”
“It’s okay,” she said, holding up a palm. “I rubbed you with oil. My bad.”
“I hope you’re not worried that I’m going to grab your ass or anything. I’m really not that type of guy.”
“I believe you.”
He fell silent, seeming unsatisfied with the exchange. If she admitted that she was rattled by the chemistry between them, not wary of him as a person, he’d feel better. But why borrow trouble? It was easier to let him think she wasn’t interested.
She ducked into the bathroom, her pulse pounding. God, she was so stirred up! Her heart was racing, her body tingling. Ignoring her passion-flushed face in the mirror, she set her clothes on the edge of the sink.
His voice sounded outside the door. “You dropped something.”
She opened it and found her underwear on the floor. Oops. He’d already walked away, so maybe he hadn’t gotten a good look at the sheer white fabric with blue polka dots and dainty ruffled edges. Muttering “Thanks,” she picked them up and shut the door. So much for not letting her panties set the mood.
The quick shower didn’t relax her. As she rinsed away the soap bubbles, her nipples were still tight, her sex swollen. If she hadn’t been so inhibited by his presence, she might have considered stroking herself to orgasm.
When she came out of the bathroom, well scrubbed but sexually frustrated, he was studying her DVD collection.
“You can watch one of those if you’d like,” she said.
He turned to watch her walk into the kitchen. “What are you going to do?”
She had one craft activity planned for the weekend, and now seemed as good a time as any to get started. “I thought I’d make candles.”
“Candles?”
“I give them away as Christmas gifts.”
“Can I help?”
Nodding, she removed the necessary items from the pantry. With his help, she could knock out a double batch. She half filled two pots with water and set them on the stove. Then she put the soy wax chips in metal mixing bowls and placed them on top. “Here,” she said, handing him a wooden spoon.
“What do I do?”
“Just let it melt. When it reaches the right temperature, you can stir in the coloring. I’ll add scented oil and pour it into jars.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Where did you learn this?”
“From my mom. She made them every year during the first snow.”
“What did she do for a living?”
“She was a nurse.”
He touched the bandage at his temple, smiling a little. “I guess I’m lucky she passed some of her skills on to you.”
“What about your mom?”
“She’s a teacher. High school English.”
The pride in his voice made her throat close up with emotion. She couldn’t resist a man who loved his mother. Her brother was a teacher, too. Blinking rapidly, she busied herself by putting a set of jars on a baking sheet to warm in the oven.
“Why heat the jars?”
“Hot wax will shatter cold glass.”
They made cinnamon-scented candles first. Paige added a red color chip and fragrant oil, enjoying the task. When the wax had cooled slightly, she poured it into the little jars. She let Colin mix the green wax and pine oil for the second batch. Soon the kitchen smelled like Christmas.
Some festive music would fit the ambience, but it was too early in the season. She turned up the radio anyway, listening to the latest weather report.
“Twin Lakes residents are experiencing power outages and downed tree limbs. The
Jeffrey pines have been more prone to weather damage lately. Many local trees are dead or dying from poor soil conditions and an unusually dry summer.”
That wasn’t news to Paige. High levels of carbon dioxide had been found in the soil around the lake. She wouldn’t be surprised to find more fallen limbs on her property, maybe even entire trees, before the storm let up.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. She did some laundry while Colin read the newspaper she’d used as a scene prop. Before long it was time for dinner. She made grilled-cheese sandwiches and a garden salad. He insisted on helping her with the dishes when they were done.
“Have you always wanted to be a photographer?”
“No,” she said, handing him a bowl to dry. “I studied a lot of different subjects in college. Art, film. I even took cultural anthropology.”
“Yeah?”
“It was one of my favorite lower-division classes.”
He smiled with genuine pleasure. “Where at?”
“Northridge.”
“That’s in L.A.”
“Yes.”
“So...why photography?”
She shrugged, unsure how to explain a gut feeling. “I’ve always enjoyed taking photos. When I started learning about the process and evaluating photographs as pieces of art, I just fell in love with it.”
“Did you like L.A.?”
“Yes.”
His hands paused on the last dish. “Ever thought of going back?”
Although he was probably just making small talk, his question unsettled her. “I didn’t even attend my graduation ceremony,” she said, shaking her head. “They mailed me the diploma. I left after my last final.”
“Why?”
“My parents died that year, and I had a bad breakup with my boyfriend. I was overwhelmed.”
“What happened with your boyfriend?”
She stepped away from the sink, troubled by the memory. “On the day of the earthquake, I had a morning class. My parents were scheduled to fly from San Diego to Hawaii that morning, so I knew they were near the airport. My brother called, frantic. We couldn’t reach them. I went back to my apartment to watch the news.”
He waited for the rest of the story, his attention rapt.
Paige was reluctant to continue. She never talked about this. The only person she’d ever told was her brother. “My boyfriend was there with another woman.”
His brow furrowed with concern.
“He was a photographer, like me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We met in class and shared the same passion. He was a natural behind the lens. By the end of college, he’d made a name for himself in freelance glamour.”
“What does that mean?”
“Beauty and body shots. Sexy stuff for men’s magazines.” She paused for a moment. “You know how you said you weren’t ready to settle down right after graduation?”
He nodded.
“Neither was he, I guess. We were both pretty immature. He met a lot of models and actresses, so he always had girls’ phone numbers. I’d get jealous and accuse him of cheating. With success, he became distant and arrogant.”
“Was he cheating?”
“Definitely. I caught them in bed together.”
“What did he say?”
“That I’d pushed him away, and he thought we were separated. The second part was true. We broke up and got back together every other week. I’d stayed at a girlfriend’s house the night before.”
“He didn’t waste any time.”
She let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through her hair. “I think he regretted the way things ended, considering the circumstances. He came to the funeral and tried to apologize. My brother punched him in the face.”
When he smiled in approval, she felt some of her heartache slip away. She was still pained by her parents’ deaths, and she might never trust easily, but she didn’t have to let an angst-filled college relationship haunt her. Everyone had a few skeletons in the closet.
She moved into the living room and added wood to the fire. The snow had picked up again, swirling outside the front window. They’d be lucky if the power stayed on. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure,” he said, sounding eager.
“You’re a Hitchcock fan, I take it?”
“How did you know?”
“I saw your keychain.”
“Ah. That’s a real movie prop. I was Norman Bates for Halloween one year.”
“As Mother?”
“Of course.”
She grinned, picturing him in the severe-looking wig and dress. Clean shaven, he might resemble a young Anthony Perkins. He had similar coloring and a tall, lean physique.
“You like horror?” he asked, gesturing at her collection.
“My dad was the horror buff, actually. These are all his.”
“My dad, also. It’s one of the few things I remember about him.”
“You haven’t stayed in touch?”
“No. He sent birthday cards for the first few years. Then nothing.”
“What do you think happened to him?”
He shrugged. “I know he was born in L.A. and that he dreamed of being an actor. It’s one of the reasons I came out here. I tried to track him down.”
“No luck?”
“None.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I might have found him and reacted the same way your brother did at the funeral.”
“With angry fists?”
“Yes.” He changed the subject, removing a DVD from the shelf. “How about The Descent?”
“Perfect. I haven’t seen that one.”
Paige made hot cocoa and they settled in for a cozy evening on the couch. She tugged the sleeping bag over her lap, shivering as she watched a group of adventurous young women descend into an unexplored cave system.
It was a chilling film, relying on mood and imagination rather than special effects. When a creepy cave inhabitant appeared in the shadows, she almost jumped out of her skin. Colin laughed at her skittish reaction. She caught him watching her again after the next big scare. He’d drifted closer in case she required comforting. Suddenly her heart was racing with desire and anticipation, not fear.
Would he put his arm around her?
He found her hand under the sleeping bag and held it. She couldn’t concentrate on the plot after that. His palm felt warm and broad against hers, his fingers long. She remembered the way he’d responded to her touch during the photo shoot and the way his eyes had feasted on her naked body this morning.
Maybe he was aroused right now.
Flushing at the thought, she hazarded a glance at him. He returned the perusal, his half-lidded gaze caressing her mouth. She moistened her lips on reflex as he leaned toward her. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, she moved in to meet him.
His lips felt soft on the first pass, brushing over hers to test her compliance. Her little moan must have encouraged him to go for it. He threaded his left hand in her hair and covered her mouth with his, seeking entrance. When her lips parted, he plunged inside, tasting her in silky strokes.
This was not a getting-to-know-you kiss. It was a blatant facsimile of sex. His tongue penetrated her mouth while his hand held her still. She imagined him using her body like this, thrusting deep, taking his pleasure.
She made another eager sound in the back of her throat, reveling in the possession. She wanted to suck his tongue and lick his skin. She wanted to slide her palm up his thigh and feel the exciting length of erection.
A woman screamed on film, startling a gasp from her lips.
He broke the kiss, panting. His eyes burned into hers. She didn’t have to touch him to know he was hard. This was no
ordinary make-out session, stemming from an ordinary attraction. It was a full-on erotic explosion. If she didn’t call a halt to the encounter, he’d be buried inside her in minutes.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she blurted.
“Why not?”
She picked up the remote and pressed Pause. “I don’t even know you.”
“I feel like I know you.”
“You live in L.A.”
He couldn’t deny it. “I can come back.”
She didn’t think she was ready for a long-term relationship, let alone a long-distance one. If and when she decided to take another chance on love, it wouldn’t be with a man guaranteed to break her heart.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” he said. “I wanted you the first moment I saw you. Every time you speak or move or look at me, I want you more. I’m shaking right now, aching with the need to touch you.”
“That’s what scares me,” she said. “It’s too much.”
“What do you mean?”
“If it was just sex, I might say yes.”
“You’re serious,” he said in a flat tone. “You’d have sex with me if there were no feelings involved.”
“Probably.”
He let go of her hand, swearing under his breath.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to get hurt again.”
It took him a minute to process her refusal. He might be a gentleman, but he was also a physical guy, primed for action. When the blood started pumping back to his brain, he relaxed. “We can do other things.”
“Like what?”
“Touching and kissing?”
She smiled at his hopeful expression. “I don’t think so.”
“Can we finish the movie, at least?”
“That we can do.”
Chapter Six
AFTER THE MOVIE, Paige went to bed.
Alone.
Colin stayed up late, his thoughts racing and his body taut with desire. He second-guessed everything he’d said and done to her. It was clear that she didn’t trust him. Maybe he’d been too aggressive, too suggestive. He probably should have asked her out before he tried to put his hands on her. Keeping his author identity a secret hadn’t been the best choice, either. Lust had clouded his perspective. He needed to show her that he respected her boundaries and cared about getting to know her.
Passion and Peril: Scenes of PassionScenes of Peril Page 22