Body of Work (29 page)

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Authors: Karla Doyle

Tags: #erotica

BOOK: Body of Work
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“Answer two questions before you go.”

“If I c—” She squeezed her eyes shut along with her lips, then forced herself to meet his probing stare. “Okay.”

“What did your asshole ex do to burn you so badly?”

Answering this skated very close to things she hadn’t told him, couldn’t. The open door waited. Nothing prevented her from walking away right now. Nothing tangible, anyway.

“That’s not an easy question.”

“I already told you what I think about easy.”

Leather squeaked from her death grip on the purse strap. “I found out he was cheating, so I ended it. Then he used things I’d told him and blackmailed me out of my house and studio. If I hadn’t signed it over, people who trusted me would’ve been hurt.” God help her, bring on the next question. At least he could only ask one.

“I understand.”

About taking responsibility for your actions even though it meant sacrificing your future—he’d certainly proven that. Multiple times. Exactly
what
and
who
she’d paid to protect, though, he couldn’t possibly imagine. She shuffled on the spot while they stared at each other. Each second that ticked by seemed to soften his tense body language. Hers only ratcheted tighter.

“I should go,” she whispered, putting one foot in front of the other.

“Do you love me?”

The four words froze her, mid-step. “What?”

“That’s my second question. Should be an easy one—yes or no.”

* * * * *

 

“Thanks for doing this, I owe you.”

Ian grinned from his sprawled position on the couch. “Adding it to the ledger. Don’t think I won’t collect.”

Total bullshit and they both knew it. Brian and his brother had managed to sidestep the sibling-drama thing since they were kids. They had each other’s backs, period. Neither worried about keeping the scale even. Good thing, because Ian’s tray would be on the ground right now. Today’s favor didn’t have monetary value like the other recent deeds, but it was sure as hell as important.

A little Ford pulled in, snagging his eye. “She’s here. Get off your lazy ass.”

“That’s the thanks I get after my selflessness…I’m crushed.” Nothing but lighthearted trash-talk—Ian’s feet had hit the floor by Brian’s second word.

Side by side, they watched Cassie through a strip Brian had cleared on the warehouse’s front door. It’d been a week since she’d run from his apartment. Forever and too fucking long. He’d have resorted to stalking her if he hadn’t been so damn busy working. Now that she was here, fifty feet away, he couldn’t drag his eyes from her.

She gave the building a thorough once-over. Checked the address against a piece of paper, then shoved it in her bag. She obviously had no clue who’d been behind the call to get her over here. Good news so far.

She set a shoulder bag on the asphalt, leaned into the backseat of her car to retrieve her portfolio case. What a great ass. And legs. Her skirt and blouse were all business, but on Cassie, they still looked sexy. When she closed the car, collected her bags and turned toward the building, it took everything in him not to throw open the door, charge out there and sweep her into his arms.

“Man, you’ve got it in spades.”

Another time, he would’ve given Ian a shot to his grinning mug, or at least a sarcastic comeback. He shrugged, letting his gaze drift back to the adorable woman heading across the pavement. “Wouldn’t you, if she were yours?”

Ian clapped him on the shoulder. “I hope this works.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Ian ducked behind a leg press machine about twenty feet back and rattled tools as if the thing weren’t already fully assembled. Brian joined in the farce on a nearby piece of equipment. Good thing he wasn’t actually putting it together, because his hands were actually shaking.

“Come on in,” Ian called at Cassie’s knock on the glass.

She hadn’t recognized Ian’s voice when he’d called to set up this meeting—and why would she, it’d been two years since she took his picture—so they’d used it again to get her into the building. If she’d heard Brian’s voice, he bet she’d already be back at the car. No more running. This had to work.

“Hello?” Tentatively, she stepped through the door. “I’m Cassie Johnson, the photographer. We have an appointment to talk about…” Her eyes widened as he straightened, directly in her line of sight. “Brian,” she whispered. “What is this?”

Yeah, she wanted to know why he’d lured her here. He’d tell her everything soon enough. Meanwhile, he answered her question literally. “Right now it’s a warehouse with some gym equipment. What it
will
be, after a shitload of renos, is Focus Fitness, my personal training studio.”

“You didn’t go back to Iron Works?”

“No. But I appreciate you tuning the old man into Trevor’s bullshit.”

The shrug she gave was loaded with tension. “The least I could do after…everything.”

“It was huge. It meant a lot.” The senior Ritchie had called two days after Cassie had shown Brian the check. She’d put her neck and the Iron Works gig on the block by telling Trevor’s father what’d gone down between the three of them. The result, for him, had been an offer to be the
official
general manager of Iron Works—with Trevor as his underling. Brian had almost said yes for the enjoyment that would have provided.

He set aside the wrench he’d squeezed so hard it’d left an imprint on his palm and stepped around the vertical press machine, closing the distance separating them to a couple of feet. One small move and he’d be touching her. Even without direct contact, their connection crackled. The softness in her eyes stole his ability to speak. Yeah, this was going to work. Had to.

He edged a half step closer. “So, what do you think?”

“About what?”

Her scent filled his head. Citrus and roses and
Cassie
. “About this.” He motioned, his fingers making a small oval between them. “The future.” He let that sit a few seconds. “I’ve got enough room here for lots of equipment and I’ll still have a large, open space. I’ll be able to run the boot camp classes year-round.”

“The gym, right. It’s great, people will be beating the door down to get to you.”

Damn, he wanted to touch her. Not yet. He smiled instead, coaxing a small one from her in return. “Including you?”

“If you hire me to do promo shots, yes. Otherwise, I think your services will be outside my budget.”

He relieved her of the bag and case, setting them on the floor. The simple brushing of fingers and he was done. All-in and going for it. He caught her hands and brought them—and her—to his chest. “My services will always be complimentary for you.”

“Brian, don’t.”

“You said yes.” Right before tearing from his apartment, not to be heard from since.

“Love doesn’t solve problems.”

“It’s one hell of a motivator, though.”

“Brian…” Everything shook. Her head in a side-to-side motion, her body in a fit of trembling.

“Hear me out.” He leaned in, mouth grazing her ear as he spoke. “Or I could
make
you listen. Look at all these shiny pieces of equipment I could tie you to while I…talk.” Playing on their physical chemistry hadn’t necessarily worked out for him the other times he’d done it, but at least it kept her from bolting. Her shallow breathing and pink cheeks told him he had her attention, at least for the next few minutes.

“I won’t be able to work with you if you insist on doing this.”

“You mean this?” He caught her earlobe between his teeth for a firm nip. “What about this?” The sweet spot at the base of her neck received similar treatment. “I’d show you all the other things I insist on doing if my brother wasn’t here.”

Every muscle in her body stiffened. “I-I have to go.”

Like hell. He tightened his grip on her wrists, knowing she had to be freaking out and hating himself for causing it. Had to be done. “This is Ian’s building. He’s my not-so-silent partner, so he’ll be around sometimes. And we’ll use him in the promo pictures, since he’ll work for free and cameras seem to like him, even though I think he’s an ugly little runt.”

“Hey, I heard that.” Ian’s good-natured laugh followed. Then he was on his feet, picking his way around equipment to join them.

Pure panic filled the eyes flitting between the men. “Brian, please—let me go.”

“Not letting you run again. We agreed to deal with the bumps, remember? You asked me to never let you go and I promised you I wouldn’t.”

Her face had a deep flush, tears welled in the corners of her eyes. But he didn’t release her. If this little intervention he’d staged didn’t pan out as he hoped, she would truly never speak to him again, of that much he was sure. The other possibility totally justified the risk.

Only when Ian was a stride away did he free her hands. Amazingly, she didn’t use them to smack him in the face or twist his balls into knots.

“Cassie, you remember Ian?”

She stared up at him as things clicked into place. “He’s the one who called to set this up…”

Brian wouldn’t apologize, that’d be a lie. “Did what I had to do to get you here.”

“Hey, Cassie.” Ian offered a smile. “It’s been awhile. And I’m a schmuck for not keeping in touch. I always meant to email you and thank you for the fantastic shots you took for my portfolio. Got me my first big magazine spread.”

“And he does mean
spread
,” Brian threw in.

“Asshole,” Ian said, driving a fist into Brian’s unmoving shoulder.

“That too,” Brian ducked a second jab, “though I don’t think it was Cassie who took
those
pictures. If so,” he grinned at her, “I hope you charged him double.”

 

She stood, though barely, bottom lip in the vicinity of her knees, while Brian ribbed his brother about various nude shots and Ian halfheartedly threw punches in return. This couldn’t be happening.

“You
knew
?” The giant space spun around her. Exactly what—how much—did he know?

“Whoa, cutie, easy. I have you.” Brian’s arms curled around her as the floor buckled. “Still not letting you go.”

Somewhere between the pulse drumming in her temples and the steady thump of Brian’s heart beneath her ear, a door clicked closed.

“Ian left, we’re alone now. Hang on, going up.”

She didn’t resist as he scooped her into his arms. Or when he kept her there, on his lap, while seated on a long leather couch. The fight to keep her secret was over. All that remained was tallying the damage.

“How—when?”

“From Ian, after everything that went down at Barolo. He recognized your name when I showed him your website. He tried to bring up your
other
website, but it was gone.”

“I’d already pulled it down by then. I quit doing those shoots the day I realized I was helplessly in love with you. I thought I could bury it and move on, with you. Then I saw Ian’s picture at your parents’ and knew it’d always be there, haunting me, even if I never took another erotic photo in my life.”

The arms around her tightened and he pressed his lips to her head. “Baby, I don’t care what—or who, or how—you take pictures of. Don’t change a thing for me, I love every part of you.”

Baby
—an endearment normally reserved for their most intimate moments. Only a fool would push a man like this away. Still, she had to ask. “At your apartment…why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

“At the time, I thought if you loved me, you’d trust me enough to tell me yourself.”

She shifted to a straddle, facing him. His close-clipped beard tickled her fingers as she cupped his jaw. “I
do
love you.” Those words had never felt more right. And god, the instant smile on his face—it lit the whole, huge building. Probably would’ve lit the entire city. It definitely lit her world. “I love you, but there will always be things I can’t share with you. Not because I don’t trust you—”

“Because they’re not yours to share. I get that now, and I respect it. Always will.” His strong hands kneaded her butt through the hiked-up skirt, pulled the fitted blouse from the waistband and slid underneath it, skimming up her back to her nape. He guided her forward, his eyes sparkling with a sizzling combination of love and raw lust. “Taking what I want.”

“A kiss?” she whispered against his mouth.

“Your heart.”

“Too late…you’ve already got it.”

The squeak of leather masked her shriek as he flipped them. He stroked her face, tucked that one stubborn wave of hair behind her ear. Snug between her thighs, he rocked, pressing a hard ridge right where she needed.

“What’s that wicked little smile about?”

“Thinking of all the money I’m going to save on batteries in the future.”

“Glad I can help with your budget.”
His
lips were downright sinful. “I know another way you can save money…quit wearing these.” A quick, singlehanded jerk relieved her of her red thong.

“Hey,” she said when he tossed the torn silk to the floor. “Those were my lucky panties.”

He raised one ginger eyebrow. “You came to a business appointment with a stranger hoping to get lucky?”

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