Fatal Exposure (11 page)

But for once in his life, he didn’t care.

* * *

Brynn sank into the kiss, the glorious feel of Parker’s mouth on hers making it impossible to think. His kiss was hot, insistent, arousing, his stark urgency igniting hers, eroding any vestiges of her self-control.

She knew she should resist him.
He’s a cop.
The warning flitted through her mind, then disappeared like dust in a swirling wind. The hard feel of him thrilled her. His rough, whiskered jaw, his iron muscles flexing under her hands, the magic of his mouth on hers made everything inside her go wild.

She ran her hands through his thick, short hair, over the tendons bunching his neck. He growled deep in his throat, the feral sound torching something primitive inside her, making her want to climb right into his skin.

She’d never expected this frantic hunger. This overwhelming desire to breathe him in. The longing to take refuge in his strong arms, to let him battle the world on her behalf.
To trust.

He slid his hand under her shirt and up her back, the warm, calloused feel of his skin sending frissons of excitement dancing along her nerves. Then he cupped her breast, and she gasped, her heart kicking like mad, her nipples pebbling into tight little peaks of need.

The hunger was relentless, insistent, insane. She had a gang hunting her down. Her stepfather wanted her dead. And Parker was a cop, dedicated to his badge.

But logic no longer mattered. Pleasure and instinct took charge. Everything inside her narrowed to her overwhelming hunger for this man.

She wanted to forget the past, forget the danger and fear. Forget the repercussions she’d suffer when reality came roaring back. She wanted to lose herself in the oblivion he offered, just glory in the moment and live.

He ended the kiss, and a moan escaped her throat. Then he rained kisses along her neck, the erotic rasp of his whiskers sending shivers cascading like fireworks over her skin. She ran her hands over his shoulders and back, thrilling at the shudders racking his taut body, his intensity inflaming hers.

Then suddenly, he hauled her into his arms. She gasped, then locked her legs around his waist, admiring his impressive power as he strode with her down the hall. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, and after a few short strides, deposited her on the king-size bed. He followed her down to the mattress, settling his weight over her.

But then he stopped. Propping himself up on his forearms, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, his voice husky.

Does he know about the abuse?
The sudden worry skittered through her, but she brushed her concerns aside. How could he possibly know about that?

“More than okay,” she answered truthfully, running her hands down his arms and back. It had taken years of therapy and hard work, but she’d finally freed herself from the sordid past.

And she’d never been more glad.

His lips grazed her neck. She let out a breathy sigh. She needed to feel his hands stroking her body, his naked skin on hers. He slid his hands beneath her shirt, and she arched with pleasure. His wicked mouth was driving her beyond control. Unable to stand the torture, she squirmed and thrashed against him, suddenly desperate for more.

As if reading her mind, he rose to his knees, ripped off his T-shirt one-handed and tossed it aside. “I need to see you,” he said, the roughness of his voice causing an answering spasm of heat in her blood. She peeled off her jeans and shirt, then flung her underwear onto the pile while Parker grabbed protection from the bedside table and made short work of his remaining clothes.

She paused, admiring his magnificent body, his beautifully roped tendons and sculpted muscles drying her throat. But it was his absolute focus on her, the stark hunger blazing in his eyes that threatened to do her in.

“You’re beautiful,” he growled. He moved over her again, his masterful mouth devouring hers. Then he kissed his way down her body, worshipping her, arousing every inch of her, drowning her in sensations so intense she wanted to sob.

She fisted her hands in his hair, lost to sensations. She tried to hurry him up, her frustration unbearable, and he chuckled against her skin.

Then his humor abruptly ended. He spread her legs with his knees and bracketed her face with his hands, his eyes fixed on hers. And suddenly she had the oddest sensation, as if he could see straight through to her soul.

As if he saw
her.

The world fell away. She stayed trapped in his heated gaze, a riot of emotions thickening her throat. Because beyond the rampaging hunger, beyond the need erupting like a wildfire between them, was something else. Something deeper. A sense of connection. A feeling that she’d finally found a man she could depend on. A man who would guard and protect her. A man she could trust with her heart—a thought that both thrilled and terrified her.

Then his body drove into hers, the pleasure so exquisite that she cried out. And then she stopped thinking altogether, giving herself over completely, and surrendered to the shocking bliss.

Chapter 10

B
rynn regained consciousness with a start, feeling disoriented and strange. She jerked open her eyes and searched the shadows, her gaze stalling on Parker lying facedown beside her in the bed. His thick black hair was mussed. Heat simmered from his powerful frame. His head was turned her way, his harsh face slack in sleep, the morning stubble on his jaw pronounced. The sheet rode low on his hips, exposing the breadth of his muscled back, the mesmerizing play of shadows on his shoulders and arms, and her heart made a crazy lurch.

God, but he was gorgeous with that steel-hard body and scruffy face. She curled her hands, fighting the urge to stroke her palms down his heated skin and relive the ecstasy she’d experienced in his arms. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to him breathe, the sound slow and steady and strong. She felt relaxed and thoroughly sated, hardly a surprise given the incredible night they’d had.

But beyond the lingering pleasure, there was something different about the morning, a niggling feeling she couldn’t quite shake, as if something were missing or wrong. She frowned, trying to figure out what it was.

And then it struck her.
The fear was gone.
She didn’t feel that usual hum of panic, that wariness that buzzed through her nerves. For the first time that she could remember, she felt safe.

Safe?
Horrified by the thought, she sat up. Safety was an illusion. She hadn’t been safe in decades, not since her father had died.

And the only way she’d survived since then was by constantly staying alert—watching her back, keeping her identity secret, monitoring who she met and what she said.

But Parker had snuck through those defenses almost from the start, burrowing straight to her most vulnerable part—tempting her to forget the past, forget the enemies who wanted her dead and let him shelter her from harm.

Spooked now, she clutched the sheet to her bare breasts and stared at Parker, aghast. He opened his eyes, his gaze arrowing straight to hers, and the blast of carnal hunger knocked her heart off course. Her breasts began to throb. Her groin moistened and ached. She skimmed the sexy grooves bracketing his mouth, the hollows of his whiskered cheeks. And he looked so incredibly appealing, so much like everything she’d ever dreamed of that she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his arms, succumb to the fierce need coiling inside her and lose herself in the excruciating wonder of this man’s embrace.

But that was insane. She couldn’t afford to let down her guard again. Not now. Not with her enemies circling close. Not ever—because Parker was still a cop. A cop with the power to turn her over to her stepfather. And no matter how sexy he was, no matter how protected he made her feel, she couldn’t forget that fact.

The silence yawned between them. Parker’s eyes narrowed a fraction, a sudden stillness banking the heat.

“Regrets?” he asked in a carefully neutral voice.

She shifted her gaze to the window, where a glimmer of daylight seeped through a crack in the blinds. “No.” It was impossible to regret the most glorious night of her life. “Last night...was wonderful. Amazing.” A blush heated her cheeks.

“But?” His voice took on an edge.

“But I don’t... I can’t....” She inhaled deeply, then released the words in a rush. “We can’t do this anymore.”

Parker didn’t move. His eyes never veered from hers. But a muscle in his square jaw bunched, and her heart made a sudden swerve. She’d offended him—the last thing she’d wanted to do.

“And why is that?” he finally asked.

Her belly doing gymnastics, she tugged the sheet higher against her breasts. “We just can’t. Last night was...fun. But we have to focus on the case.”

“Fun.” His voice went flat. His eyes turned flintier yet. And the tension between them mounted, shattering any remnants of the intimacy they’d shared.

He tossed off the sheet and rose from the bed, his arousal obvious as he stalked naked across the room. “There are extra towels in the bathroom closet,” he said, yanking open his dresser drawer.

Oh, God.
She’d totally mucked this up. Feeling miserable and confused, she tried again. “Parker, I—”

“Help yourself to a shower. I’ll put the coffee on. After breakfast we can head to the library and find that film.” Not bothering to glance her way, he pulled on his faded jeans, grabbed a T-shirt from the drawer and left the room. Several seconds later, a cupboard in the kitchen slammed.

Her belly churning, feeling as if she’d just made a huge mistake, Brynn stared at the empty hall. She wanted to call him back. She wanted to forget the world, forget the killers dogging her steps and hold on to this precious thing growing between them before she lost it for good.

But she couldn’t chance it. The fear was too ingrained, the price of betrayal too high.

Buffeted by regrets, she climbed from the bed and gathered her scattered clothes. She’d healed physically from her stepfather’s attacks long ago. And while it had taken years in counseling, years working to put the victimization behind her, she’d also recovered enough to finally find pleasure in sex. Casual sex. As long as she stayed detached, as long as she stayed in control and distanced herself emotionally from the encounters, she could enjoy her body’s demands.

But trusting someone was different. It made her far too vulnerable. And having a relationship with a cop...

She dragged herself into the bathroom, then sagged back against the door. It was impossible. She’d had to end the affair. She couldn’t let her desires blind her to danger with so many lives at stake.

Feeling thoroughly weary, she set the showerhead to its strongest setting and turned it on. Then she stepped beneath the spray, counting on the pummeling water to banish her doubts. She’d done the right thing. She hadn’t made a mistake. She’d had to cool things with Parker before he got too close and she did something she’d regret.

So why did she want to cry?

* * *

The problem with reality, Parker decided as he set two coffee mugs on the kitchen counter, was that every time he tried to ignore it, it came back to bite him in his sorry ass.

He never should have let last night happen. Making love to Brynn had been foolhardy at best, morally wrong at worst, given that he’d concealed the truth from her. She still didn’t know that her stepfather had ordered Parker to bring her in, a revelation that would destroy her trust.

Thank God she’d wanted to end it, even if her rejection had stung his pride. Bad enough that he’d let down his guard last night. He didn’t need to compound the problem by prolonging the affair.

Even if it had been the best sex of his life.

She strolled into the kitchen a second later, grabbed her camera from her backpack and started fiddling with the lens. Parker dumped silverware beside the mugs, vowing to keep his distance and let reason dictate his actions for once. But her fresh, soapy scent flooded the room, bombarding him with erotic memories—the tempting texture of her skin, the ripe fullness of her naked breasts, the soft moans she’d made as he’d filled her, her nipples pebbling and pouting for his touch.

His blood rushed south. A sweat broke out on his brow. And despite his vow to resist her, it took every ounce of effort he possessed not to haul her into his arms and plunge so deeply and thoroughly inside her that he’d brand her as forever his.

He tried to clear the gravel from his voice. “Coffee?”

“Thanks.” Still clutching the camera, she inched closer to his side. “Listen, Parker, about last night...”

“Forget it.” He didn’t want to do a detailed postmortem, not in his current state. Struggling to appear unaffected, he made himself meet her gaze. But the uncertainty in her eyes did him in. Right or wrong, stupid or wise, Brynn affected him in ways he’d never expected. This wasn’t just sex anymore; it wasn’t just a release of physical needs. She meant something to him now, something important.

Something he sure as hell didn’t want to name.

Needing to reassure her, he moved in close. Then he reached out and cupped her face, gazing into those gorgeous eyes. “You were right to cool things off. We need to concentrate on solving this case.”

“It’s just...I don’t want you to be angry.”

“I’m not.” He tucked her silky hair behind her ear, felt her quiver beneath his touch. “Let’s focus on finding those negatives, all right? We can sort out the other stuff later on.”

She searched his eyes. “All right.” Her mouth wobbled into a smile.

He curved his hand, giving her neck a gentle squeeze, then made himself step away. But he realized he was doomed. Brynn had gotten to him. He couldn’t bear to hurt her, couldn’t bring himself to tell her about her stepfather and put that disillusionment back into her eyes.

But deception always came at a cost. And someday soon he’d have to pay the price.

* * *

The central branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library was in a massive, three-story building in downtown Baltimore, just blocks from the Inner Harbor. Still trying to corral his feelings, Parker left his pickup truck in an hourly garage a block away and followed Brynn down the stairwell to the street. Then he walked with her toward the library, trying not to notice how the cold breeze tousled her shiny hair, the way her snug jeans molded her thighs.

Or how right she felt by his side.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he stopped at the crosswalk at Cathedral Street and waited for the light to change. “Why did you hide the negatives here?” he asked, determined to exert some mental discipline and keep his mind on task.

She didn’t answer at first. A trash truck barreled past. The flags atop the library snapped in the gusting wind. Several homeless men loitered near the book drop, smoking cigarettes while they waited for the library to unlock its doors.

“I used to hang out near here,” she said when the light changed and they started across the street. “One day I was walking past the library and noticed a display they had.” She nodded toward the tall, rectangular windows gracing the building’s facade. “They were showcasing the work of A. Aubrey Bodine, the famous photojournalist. Those pictures blew me away. The way he used texture and light...” A note of awe filled her voice. “I
had
to go inside. I came here all the time after that to study his work. I read all the photography books I could, trying to improve my craft. I didn’t have much money, so I couldn’t afford to waste film. I figured the more I learned, the fewer mistakes I’d make.”

Parker watched her speak, mesmerized by the passion in her voice, the way her eyes lit up as she discussed her work.

He’d never met anyone so intriguing in his life.

As if realizing she’d gone off on a tangent, she shot him a rueful smile. “Anyhow, I spent a lot of time here, back in the stacks.”

“Did you always want to be a photographer?”

She nodded. “It was a way to stay connected to my father at first. Taking photos helped keep him alive in my mind. And then...it consumed me. It became part of who I was, something I had to do. And when I started winning contests and showing my work...”

“How did that happen? It couldn’t have been easy on the run.”

“My friends showed my work to a gallery owner in San Francisco. That’s where we were living at the time. He suggested I get an agent, so I did.” She shrugged. “My agent helped me a lot after that.”

Mulling that over, Parker walked with her to the entrance just as people started filing inside. He hung back, letting her precede him through the turnstiles, then stopped in the central hall.

The place was impressive, he had to admit. A huge glass ceiling soared several stories above him. Spotless terrazzo floors gleamed in the brilliant light. Rectangular marble columns formed a loggia around the periphery, while in the center sat a large information desk flanked by potted trees.

“It’s changed,” Brynn said with a frown. She motioned toward a glassed-off section to one side. “That used to be the newspaper room. I just hope they haven’t remodeled upstairs.

“I didn’t dare hide the negatives outside,” she continued, leading the way around the elevators to the stairs. “The weather would have ruined them. This was the only place I could think of where they might be safe.”

Parker slid her a glance as they started up the staircase, curious about how she’d gotten by. “Where did you get your film? You couldn’t have had much money.”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean.” Her voice turned defensive now. “There was a photography store on Charles Street, not far from here. I used to search their trash at night to see if they’d thrown away any supplies. One night the owner caught me. Mr. Fowler. He was a crotchety old guy and scared me half to death, but he was a marshmallow inside.” A smile ghosted across her face and warmed her eyes.

“He took pity on me when he realized how badly I wanted to learn. He let me sweep floors and do odd jobs in return for film and darkroom supplies. And he taught me what he knew.”

Parker gazed at her face, attuned to the quirk of her brow, the way she scrunched her nose when she thought, the mesmerizing fullness of her soft lips.

He was doomed, all right. Last night had demolished any impartiality he’d had. Even more alarming, he didn’t seem to care.

“That’s where I developed the pictures I took at the warehouse,” she added, heading up another flight of stairs. “I’d watched him open the store and knew the code for his alarm, so I snuck inside that night and developed the film. The next morning, as soon as the library opened, I hid the negatives here. Then I mailed the prints to the police and left town.”

They reached the top of the stairs. She paused, a shadow flickering through her eyes. “I’ve always felt bad about that, that I left without saying goodbye after all he’d done for me. But I couldn’t drag him into my mess.”

Parker’s heart rolled, impressed like hell that she’d tried to protect her friends while her life was on the line. “You ever talk to him again?”

She shook her head. “He’s retired now. His nephew took over the shop. But I stopped by a few years ago and left him a package with some of my original prints.” Another smile crinkled her eyes. “I’m sure he already knew who I was, though. He would have recognized my technique.”