The Long Road Home (15 page)

“She seems very taken with you,” she ventured. Then some imp made her add, “And what you can offer her.”

Mockery glittered in his eyes. “What would that be? My expertise in the bed—”

“No,” Clarisse quickly cut in. “I think she hopes you’ll shoot some photos for her portfolio.” When he appeared indifferent at the news, she asked in puzzlement, “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Why would it? I’ve always known where I’ve stood with her. Granted, sometimes she can be a little self-centered, but at the same time, Vivian can be a lot of fun.” He laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. You’ve seen Vivian at her worse. Get her with a crowd, and she shines.”

Her mood plummeted. She could well imagine how well Vivian shone for John—particularly in bed. Hadn’t he already told her how the redhead rated in that area? And of course, he liked those beautiful, long legs.

His smile widened and turned smug. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

She nearly snorted at his conceit. Jealous? Her? “Of course not!”
Liar
.

“Hmm.”

She stiffened and looked out over the canyon in an attempt to ignore his obvious amusement. He didn’t believe her and the thought rankled. For once, she would love to see him drowning in jealousy and uncertain of his sexual appeal. Maybe then he wouldn’t smile so shamelessly. But she doubted that would happen. He didn’t need to worry about where he stood with the opposite sex. Women adored him, and he knew it. The last thing he needed was her stoking his already inflated ego.

Turning at the sound of a camera’s shutter, she inhaled sharply. John was stretched over the fence at the waist, balancing precariously against the metal railing. Her eyes widened in alarm. He could tip over so easily and plummet head first into the air.

“John.” Her voice rose. “John!”

He rolled back on his heels and pulled the camera from his face, confusion furrowing his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” Now she felt completely stupid for overreacting.

Understanding glittered in his eyes. “You thought I was about to fall, didn’t you?”

She snorted. He didn’t have to look so pleased with himself. “Hardly.”

“Yes, you did.” He smiled.

She wanted to hit him, say or do something to wipe that smug expression off his face.

“Does that mean you care?”

She swallowed, disturbed at the hint of seriousness beneath his casual banter. Please no. He couldn’t suspect how she felt. “Of course I care. Having you drop off the side and die on me would be highly inconvenient. Not to mention the mess.”

His mouth curved at one corner, yet the pleasure in his eyes faded. “Cute.”

“Not if you’re smashed on the rocks,” she retorted, then confessed grudgingly. “All right. I was a bit concerned. But you have to admit, you can get carried away with that camera of yours. You get so focused on that perfect shot that you forget everything around you.”

“I don’t do that,” he argued just as something caught his eye.

She followed his gaze. A hawk flew from its rocky perch. Silent and seemingly weightless, it soared through the air. Quickly focusing the lens, John snapped several shots of the bird’s elegant descent.

It was just as well his attention was diverted. Whenever she had a conversation with him—however brief—it left her confused and disoriented.

A cool breeze, scented with pine, played with her hair, sending tendrils across her cheek. She pulled them behind an ear. The sun didn’t seem so warm now. She wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting late, nearing dinnertime if she could judge by her stomach’s rumbling.

She leaned against the railing and pulled an apple from her purse. Taking a large bit, she glanced over at John. She swallowed quickly, almost choking on the pieces. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Oh great! Taking pictures of me with my mouth full. That’ll look real good.”

“Clarisse, why don’t you stand over there? You can’t beat the pine and the canyon as a backdrop.” He lowered the camera and smiled encouragingly. “The sun’s starting to set and it will change your skin to a golden hue. You’ll look great.”

Oh, no. She recognized that gleam in his eyes. It would take at least four rolls to get it out of his system.

“John please,” she protested in exasperation. “I’m not a model anymore. I gave it up, remember?”

“Which was a damn shame. You’d still be one of the top models out there now. In a bathing suit, you wiped out all the competition. And your bone structure. Fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” She cringed at the description. If he saw her in a bathing suit now, he would hardly call her
fantastic
.

“You know what I mean.” He walked over to her. “But first. You have a bit of apple on your lip.”

She flushed beneath his teasing gaze, and licked her mouth. She didn’t feel so fantastic now. Gluttonous was a more apt description.

He frowned and shook his head. “No, you missed it. Here. Let me.”

Just as he reached over and brushed his thumb across her upper lip, she touched the pad of his finger with her tongue. Eyes widening in shock, she regarded him wordlessly. She caught his stunned expression before he drew away and fiddled with the camera slung over his shoulder.

Hands clasped into fists, she dragged in a ragged breath. Would it ever end? This attraction was eating away at her insides and accelerating with each minute in his company.

“Ah...yes. Well, how about a couple of those shots?” He smiled, but the effort seemed forced.

“And what do you propose I do with the dog?” She nodded at the animal as a way of an excuse. She didn’t want John dissecting her with that camera of his. She would feel exposed, almost as if the lens were a magnifying glass and she the specimen.

“That’s easy.” He tucked the animal under an arm. “I’ll just put him in the Explorer. He shouldn’t have a problem if I crack a window. The weather’s cool.”

“I don’t know,” she hedged, unable to find another plausible excuse.

“What can it hurt? Make me happy. After all, I am driving you to San Diego.”

“That’s blackmail!”

He gave her a devilish smile. “Depends on your point of view.”

“Oh, all right, but only a couple of shots.”

“Thanks!”

As he left, she brushed the corner of her mouth and tried to forget the feel of his finger against her tongue. Had he felt the same disturbing attraction? Or was it all one-sided? No. She had seen the sexual awareness in his eyes, sensed it from the tension in his body. She wasn’t that inexperienced.

She tossed the remains of her apple in a nearby trash can. Moments later, John returned and hunkered down by his camera bag. He changed lenses, and before she knew it, or had the forethought to protest, he had his hands around her waist and was picking her up and placing her on the fence’s rock beam. Floundering for balance, she grasped his shoulders, brushing a cheek inadvertently against his sable locks and inhaling the clean, woodsy scent of his aftershave. Desire fluttered low in her belly. Disconcerted, she edged farther back along the rocky beam and glanced away, only to stare into the canyon’s yawning chasm.

“Here. Why don’t you put your hands behind you and lean back? And try not to look so tense.”

Clarisse frowned. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not sitting up here with nothing behind you. If I fall backward, I’m a gonner.”

His lips twitched. “I’m not about to let you dive into the canyon.”

He brushed the slope of her neck, urging her chin at an angle. Her breathing turned shallow, and her tongue lost all function. They could be reactions caused by the canyon’s dizzying drop or John’s close proximity. She didn’t quite know which.

He eyed her quizzically. “Are you all right?”

Swallowing hard, she met his concerned expression and forced a smile. “Of course.”

He nodded, seeming to believe her. “All right. Just turn your head a little that way.”

His fingers, warm and smooth against her skin, caressed her jaw. She tilted her head, trying not to flinch. All this touching. It was getting to her.

He stepped back and focused his camera. “Looking good.” He snapped a couple of shots. “Now, how about you show us what you’ve got? That’s right. Lick your lips. Go ahead move your head a little to the side and flick your hair back. Give me that look. That’s right. You’ve got it.”

As John snapped photo after photo, she lost all sense of time. She found herself getting turned on by the excitement in his words. Her leg, the past—she forgot everything but the moment and the deep throb of his voice flowing over her.

“Absolutely fantastic.” John trotted over, and in his excitement, he kissed her.

It might have been a kiss of gratitude, a show of affection if it had ended as quickly as it started. But Clarisse, blind to anything but her sensitized feelings, arched upward and clung to his shoulders, deepening the kiss. His lips softened, brushing back and forth over her parted mouth. Then they turned seductive, drawing her into a world of sexual desire.

She sighed with pure pleasure. John’s hands slid up her arms, briefly massaged her shoulders and cupped her head with his palms. A low growl of pleasure rumbled deep in his throat.

It wasn’t the voices in the distance that forced them apart, but rather the squeal of a child. Dazed, Clarisse looked around and caught sight of two boys running along the pavement, one chasing the other. Dragging in a breath of air, she glanced at John and sobered. Her wayward fingers had mussed the sides of his raven hair, even sending a few short strands on end, while a dull flush stained his cheeks. His breathing wasn’t quite so steady.

Even knowing she hadn’t been the only one aroused, she closed her eyes in mortification. She’d been kissing him like some sex-starved woman with a double dose of hormones. Oh, why wouldn’t she learn? Didn’t she already know how dangerous it was to get within two feet of him? Pure stupidity on her part. Stupid. Absolutely stupid.

“What did you say?”

She opened her eyes in dismay, never realizing she might have spoken aloud. “Nothing.”

“Then we better get going. It’s getting late.” He regarded her with eyes that looked suddenly weary. Squeezing her knee, he walked over to his equipment, missing her flinch with pain.

While watching him pack up his equipment, she tried not to think of the power he still had over her. A couple more minutes in his arms and she would have promised him anything.

What if the sexual tension splintered between them again? She shivered. Next time, they might not be in public. Oh, hell. She didn’t like where her thoughts were turning. If only Vivian were back. No. She wasn’t that desperate. Or was she?

“Ready?”

Nodding, she slipped from her rocky perch and landed on her good leg. She glanced up at sky and the fading sunlight. Too soon, she would be trapped inside the car with John, cloaked by the intimacy of darkness.

They drove south on 160 toward Flagstaff. From the map, Clarisse guessed they had an hour before reaching the city. She couldn’t see beyond the road. Darkness had since fallen, touching the windows and headlights perimeter with a thick, black mantle.

Faint shuffling had her glancing back. Toto, clearly agitated, circled the seats, sniffing the fabric, trotting from window to window with quick, jerky movements. She sighed in resignation. It looked like they would have to stop for the dog. Great. Another delay.

“John.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you pull off on the side of the road?”

“Why?” Suspicion dripped from the one word.

“It’s the dog.”

“He’s not getting sick, is he?”

The dread in his voice forced a smile to her lips. “No. But I think he needs to go.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding relieved. “There’s bound to be a place I can pull over.”

John slowed and turned onto a dirt road. The Explorer bumped and jostled, then halted in the middle of nowhere. She peered out the window. Beyond the headlights, an impenetrable, black wall greeted her. She sat there for a second. “It looks awfully dark out there.”

“Do you want me to take care of the dog?”

“No,” she said quickly, even though the idea was tempting. She had been the cause of too many problems and delays as it was. “That’s okay. I can manage.” She opened the door. “You wouldn’t happen to have a flashlight, would you?”

“No, but I’ll leave the headlights on, so you won’t get disoriented.”

“Thanks.”

Clarisse closed the door. Although she walked cautiously through the underbrush with the dog, she still managed to stumble over rocks and exposed roots. Pausing, she looked back and identified John’s silhouette inside the vehicle. Yet, even seeing that he was within calling distance, she could not halt the apprehension inching up her spine. But she ignored the feeling and moved on.

Suddenly Toto lunged forward, nearly ripping the leash from her hand. She held tight as the dog jerked repeatedly on the tether with surprising strength. “What is it, boy? Is something out there?”

Uneasily, she scanned the darkness as a low growl vibrated through Toto’s tiny body. Nothing was out there. No sound. No movement...strange.