Exposure (23 page)

Just as she was about to close the laptop, a
Skype invitation popped on the screen from Aubrey. Grinning, she
opened it and waved.

"You're using Noah's computer?"

She laughed. "Just doing some internet
surfing. How are you? I had a blast visiting. Maybe I can come up
again in a couple weeks?"

Her grin was just as infectious as Noah's.
"Awesome! There's tons we didn't get to do last time, like swimming
and stuff."

"You're on. I'll talk to your uncle to see
what we can arrange." She got up to refill her coffee, taking the
laptop with her. "Check this out." Raven turned the screen around
to show Aubrey the picture they'd colored on Noah's fridge. "Best
spot in the house."

They chatted for thirty minutes about hair
and clothes when Aubrey was called away by Frances for lunch. "Can
we Skype again? When are you coming back to visit?"

The mix of excitement and loneliness in her
voice broke Raven's heart. Her throat tight, she smiled. "We can't
come this weekend, but let's shoot for the next. And you can call
me anytime." She bit her lip, not knowing how much Aubrey knew
about the trial. She and Noah never discussed Aubrey's knowledge of
her past. "To play it safe, why don't we just plan to Skype on your
uncle's laptop here?"

After saying goodbye, Raven dropped her
elbows on the counter and grinned. She hadn't known Noah's niece
very long, but she was a darn great kid who made it easy to like
her. Just like her uncle. For a moment, she wondered what it would
be like to have normal. The three of them sitting around the dinner
table, talking about their day. Planning what to do for the
weekend. Tucking Aubrey in for the night or checking out a grade on
her math test.

The images didn't make her heart pound or
her lungs collapse. A warm sensation filled her chest instead,
possibilities blooming. Noah had said no pressure. He just wanted
her to stay, to keep going as they were in the hope that she'd feel
the same. Less than two months ago, she'd have laughed if someone
told her what she'd be doing right now.

Before Noah, sex was a swift release and
nothing more. Often, it was more hassle than it was worth. Heading
to the club, watching the members from the shadows, picking the
right man who had sub tendencies. Exhausting. Her day had been
programmed to the minute, even Friday dinners with Noah. She went
to work and she came home. There had been no excitement, no spark
to break up the monotony.

How had she not known what else was out
there, how good it could be?

Her gaze landed on a binder between the
microwave and a seasoning rack. Rising, she slid it out and opened
it. Index cards and scraps of paper were pressed neatly into page
protectors, all with the same similar handwriting. Some of the
pages were yellow and worn, some a bit newer, but all contained
recipes. Casseroles, cookies, soups, bread.

She leaned on the counter and scrolled
through the binder. They were definitely his mother's recipes he'd
told her about their first night together. She'd offered to cook a
few of her dishes for Noah, but was shocked she found herself
thinking she wanted to make them all. Maybe not right away, but
slowly, night after night, working her way through Noah's
memories.

The last page's entry said "Noah's
Favorite." Italian meatloaf. Straightening, she headed for the door
to see if the guards were outside.

Max nodded in greeting. "Miss Crowne."

"Can you take me to the store?"

In answer, he pulled his cell out and
thumbed a text. "Ready when you are, Miss Crowne."

When they returned, Noah's housekeeper,
Mildred, was at the condo and dusting the living room. She met them
in the kitchen, where Max set the grocery bags he'd insisted on
carrying down on the counter.

"Mr. Caldwell is sleeping," Mildred said in
her thick Russian accent. "Is it alright if I change the sheets and
vacuum on Monday? Yes?"

Raven had met Mildred months back, but the
housekeeper never directly asked her for orders. Unsure of
protocol, she took in the elder woman's gray hair wrapped in a
bandana and chubby form in the maid's uniform. Surely Noah wouldn't
care if some things got put off for a couple days.

"That would be fine." She glanced in the
direction of the bedroom. It was early afternoon. She'd never known
him to sleep that long. Noah was an early riser. "We got back from
the charity event late last night. He must be really tired from
that." Or their fun afterward. She blushed and turned away to find
Max exiting the condo. "Where are you going?"

Confusion on his face, he pointed to the
door as if to say,
duh.

"Keep me company. Please?" There was no need
to have him stand sentry outside the door if Noah was sleeping. She
pointed to the kitchen island when he didn't move.

He nodded, made his way over, and sat on one
of the stools.

"I don't need to make dinner?" Mildred eyed
the grocery bags.

Raven bit her lip, hoping she wasn't
stepping on her toes. The housekeeper had been taking care of for
Noah for eight something years. "Not tonight. I…like cooking."

Mildred nodded, seemingly pleased, and
commenced with her duties.

Raven smiled at Max, wide-eyed in relief, as
if just avoiding a thrown-down. She hadn't wanted to offend the
housekeeper.

Biting back a grin, he thumbed a text.

She shifted around the kitchen, putting
groceries away and getting the Italian meatloaf going. Once it was
in the oven and Mildred had left, Raven started the side dishes and
looked into the living room.

"I'm getting worried. He never sleeps like
this."

As if on cue, Noah's bedroom door opened and
he emerged wearing flannel pajama bottoms low on his hips and a
white T-shirt that did nothing to hide his gloriously sculpted
body. His blond hair stood up at odd angles and he unconsciously
ran his hand through it.

Sidling up next to her, he kissed her cheek.
"Morning, baby." He reached for the coffee pot and shook the carafe
as if stumped it was empty.

"It's late afternoon. You slept the whole
day."

He squinted at the clock, then their
bodyguard, who was busy trying not to pay attention to them. "Hi,
Max."

"Sir."

Noah rubbed his neck. "Anything wrong?" His
voice was more coarse than usual and his blue eyes were hazy.

"No, sir."

"Max was keeping me company while I cooked
dinner." She wrapped her arms around his waist. He was hot to the
touch. She pressed her hand to his cheek. "You have a fever."

He grunted. "Not feeling great." Wrapping
his arms around her, he rested his cheek on top of her head. "Need
more sleep. When's dinner going to be ready?"

"An hour or so. Why don't you go back to
bed?"

"Not if you went to the trouble of cooking."
Releasing her, he leaned against the counter and rubbed his
forehead. She already had a bottle out and was pouring two pills in
her hand when he asked, "Where's the aspirin?"

He swallowed them and shuffled into the
living room, where he piled two blankets over himself and flopped
sideways.

"There goes our weekend."

Max grinned. "I'll be right outside if you
need me."

Her cell chimed a text as she moved to turn
the burner down on the noodles. She fumbled to unlock the screen
while stirring the pot with the other hand. A photo popped up.

She froze, the hairs on her nape standing
erect. Someone had texted a picture of the note from her apartment,
the one stuck to the door with a knife. Shaking, she looked up to
call for Max when another text came through.

You're not safe. I know where you are.

She yelped, shaking so fiercely she knocked
the pan off the stove and to the floor with a loud clatter.
Buttered noodles went flying everywhere.

Noah was on his feet and moving her way when
Max ran around the corner and skidded to a halt. Both men eyed the
mess and then her.

"What's wrong, Miss Crowne?"

She couldn't seem to move. To breathe. A
vise squeezed her chest, cutting off air. Her fingers fisted the
phone, trembling violently.

Noah took the cell from her grip and passed
it to Max, pulling her to his chest. She tried to absorb his
warmth, but she was so cold. Shaking so hard.

Max stiffened. "Sir." He handed Noah the
cell and pulled his out. Within moments, he was pacing in the
foyer, barking orders into the phone.

Noah thumbed through the message, jaw
clenched, eyes glacial. "Son of a bitch." He tossed her cell on the
counter and pulled her to him again. One hand came up to cup her
head. "He won't get to you. He won't touch you. Swear to God, he
won't, baby."

She nodded, because she figured that was the
right thing to do. But Noah was wrong. They got her number. It
would only be a matter of time before they got her. Right?

Max rounded the corner. "McCannon's coming
to pick up the cell. Hintz is getting her a new one, with a new
number. We've got a man at the gallery at all times and one
downstairs. I notified the team on Miss Aubrey."

But instead of the news calming Noah, his
arms banded tighter. "She doesn't leave your sight for two
seconds." He sucked in a harsh breath and swayed on his feet.

"Understood."

"Not two seconds…"

"Shh," she cooed. Her stomach rolled with
nausea and dread. "Let's get you back in bed. I'm safe right
here."

For now.

N
oah groaned and
rolled over in bed, assessing if anything new hurt before opening
his eyes. Alas, his bones were no longer liquefying from fever and
nothing seemed to be aching. Thank Christ. He hadn't been sick like
that in ages.

Hell, what day was it?

Instinctively, he reached out for Raven and
found the bed empty, the sheets cool.

Vague memories of her force-feeding him
chicken soup and aspirin sprang to mind. He remembered waking
periodically to find her watching movies or reading next to
him.

And the text. She got that damn
threat…when?

Shit. He sat up too quickly and grabbed his
head as the room spun. Stumbling to his feet, he made his way into
the living room. "Raven?"

His housekeeper, Mildred, came out of the
guest bathroom. "She's at work, Mr. Caldwell. Are you feeling
better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

He didn't like Raven being at the gallery.
All those windows and… He closed his eyes and bit back a curse. He
couldn't run her life. That gallery meant the world to her. If he
had to live through the heart-pounding worry, he would. His team
would keep her safe.

"May I clean your room, Mr. Caldwell?"

He blew out a breath. "That would be
great."

"Would you like me to heat you something to
eat first? Miss Crowne, she's a keeper. She made your mama's
meatloaf."

Turning his head toward the kitchen, he
stared as if he could see through the fridge door. "Did she?" he
muttered, wondering if the dizziness was from emotion or lingering
illness. The room seemed to vacuum of air, leaving a static hum of
electricity in its wake. His mom used to make him meatloaf on his
birthday because it was his favorite. That must've been what Raven
had been cooking the other night.

"Mr. Caldwell?"

He flinched and cleared his throat. "No,
thank you. I'm not very hungry at the moment."

Scratching his head, he headed to the
kitchen to grab coffee and then he needed to shower off the
remnants of fever. If he felt this gross, he could only imagine
what he smelled or looked like. Raven left a letter on the kitchen
counter. Picking it up, he poured a cup of coffee and read it over
the rim of his cup.

My new cell number is programmed in your
phone. There's leftovers in the fridge. I hope you're feeling
better. xoxo

A silly, stupid grin split his face, and he
didn't care who saw. A mundane, normal note, something a wife would
leave for her husband. Happiness filled the empty spaces in his
chest. He liked this. A lot. The dynamic between them was
comfortable and familiar, yet he never tired of their love-making
or conversation. They had, quite possibly, the perfect
relationship. He just had to convince her of it. Or keep her sated
long enough she didn't panic anymore.

Shoving off the counter, he retrieved his
phone and shot off a text.
Miss you. Is everything okay? You
have at least two guards?

Sigh. Yes, master. I have Max as my shadow
and some cutie named Jones in the main gallery. Nicole's eying him
like candy. I may hook them up.

He barked out a laugh, first at her antics
and then over the fact that she typed the word "sigh" in a text.
Cutie? He'll be fired at once
.

lol. Glad you're feeling better. McCannon
says they got nothing on the text. It came from a throw-away.
Police are done with my apartment. They got nothing. Can we just
send in exterminators to fumigate?

He rubbed his jaw. The news wasn't
surprising, but it was still disappointing.
I'll take care of
the apartment.
He thought about ways to distract her from all
this, remembering how she'd trembled in his arms after receiving
the text.
Don't leave work without me. I'll pick you up.

K. xoxo

Another thing he loved? The way she started
putting X and O after everything. Damn, he was sunk.

He called for his guard.

The front door opened and Hintz stepped
inside, filling the entire doorway with his size. "Yeah, boss?"

"We're leaving in twenty. Have two guys
ready."

"You got it."

Noah showered and changed, grabbing a banana
for the road. On the counter by the sink was Raven's watch he'd
given her, as if she'd taken it off to cook and forgot about it. As
an afterthought, he shoved it in his pocket and left.