Exposure (4 page)

He caught her hand before she could retreat,
panic making him tighten his fingers. "Don't go. We're…not done."
They hadn't even broached why he really brought her here.

She stopped and swallowed hard, gaze
directed at the floor. This wasn't her. Raven looked shit in the
eye and always came out on top. Pushed through problems like she
fought her depression because she was the furthest thing from
weak.

He ducked his head to look in her eyes. "I'm
still the same guy." This was the third time he'd said that, but it
wasn't sinking in. "Please sit back down."

After what must've been a severe internal
battle, she finally nodded and reclaimed her seat. He drew air into
his lungs, unaware he'd been holding his breath. Except now he had
no idea how to touch upon the topic of…them. He'd had ten years to
dredge up a trillion variations of this conversation, but none
seemed right when faced with the moment.

Gino came out of the kitchen, wiping his
pudgy hands on an apron wrapped around his girth. A wide smile
split his ruddy face as he patted both their shoulders. "How are we
doing, folks? Ready for my famous chicken cacciatore?"

Noah glanced at Raven for an answer, but she
was frozen in her seat. He looked at Gino. "You bet. Bring it
out."

Raven pinched her forehead. Noah didn't have
time to say more because Gino returned and two steaming plates of
food had been set down in front of them.

"You two lovebirds enjoy."

She flinched--actually flinched--and swiftly
grabbed her fork as if to cover the move.

Alone again, he pushed the chicken around
his plate and gave up. His stomach couldn't handle food, not with
her sitting there as if he'd slapped her. He withdrew an envelope
from his breast pocket and slid it across the table.

She eyed the familiar stationery. Her lips
gaped open, as did her eyes.

He'd been on a shoot in Paris when he'd seen
the design. Feminine, durable and unique, it reminded him of her.
So he'd bought two boxes and became her secret admirer. At the
time, it was the only way he could have her. He wrote about the
things he wanted to do, how he ached to touch, and left it at
sending one every year for her birthday.

"Open it," he said.

She hesitated, but eventually picked up the
envelope. Her gaze scanned the paper. Confusion marred her
forehead. "It's blank."

Was that disappointment in her tone? He'd
wondered how the letters had affected her. She'd, of course, told
him about them as they came, but she'd never given any indication
to how they made her feel. Did they turn her on, make her want to
touch herself? Did she blush when reading his words and
desires?

He leaned forward. "You know everything now.
What I want, what I've always wanted, and who I am. Anything else I
wish to relay--or do--will be directly to you. No more cards."

Finally, her gaze whipped to his and held.
Something intense and altering shifted between them. The charge hit
his midsection and ramped his pulse.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and back up.
She was thinking about it. "You've never…" She tucked a strand of
hair behind her ear. "We're friends. We've never crossed that line.
You never gave me any indication you wanted more."

But he did. Oh, he wanted so much more. What
started out as respecting her as a friend grew to admiring her as a
woman, then downshifted into the fiercest need to have her. "Have
you ever thought about it? You and me. More."

"No," she said quickly. Too quickly to be
believed. "Well, maybe when we first met, there was attraction. But
the buddy thing…" She shook her head. "I guess I just put it out of
my mind. I didn't think you saw me like that."

"I want you." As if she hadn't figured that
out by now, he decided to ram it home. Maybe hearing it from his
lips would get her head in the game. Gel the truth.

"But…you don't do serious
relationships."

Tricky point. He didn't. With reason. And
she would be no different. He loved her, lusted to the nth degree
for her, but he wasn't in love with her. He was pretty confident he
was incapable of the emotion. If he couldn't fall in love with
Raven, he was lacking the genetic makeup to do it at all.

"You don't enter into relationships either."
He'd yet to see Raven with a man. He knew she'd had them, many by
his calculation based on their conversations, but they were short
lived and she always walked. She was only in it for the release.
She'd also been extremely unsatisfied with her sex life. She'd said
so herself.

Oh, the things he could do to her.

"What is all this about then, Noah?" A hard
glint lit her eyes. She was bouncing back from the shock. Good.
"Letters and a private dinner and rogue secrecy. What are you
after?"

Now they were getting somewhere. He barely
had time to register the relief. When all was said and done, he
didn't want to lose what they had before she learned the truth. He
took a sip of wine, holding her gaze. "What I'm after is visceral.
Basic. You and me, giving each other pleasure."

Her pupils dilated as warmth hit her cheeks.
There was an unmistakable hitch to her breathing as she leveled him
with a look bordering on carnal. "You want to risk ten years of
friendship for a short…" She waved her hand. "Fling?"

If he thought for one second that was the
case, he wouldn't be here. He could count on one hand the number of
people he trusted, and she was one of them. "We're a different
breed of people, Raven. You and me, we're not like everyone else.
We can keep the sentiments out of sex." He took in her beautiful
features and grew semi-hard. "One month. That's what I'm after,
what I'm proposing."

She reared back, eyes wide once more. "Is
this the part where you bust out a contract? Set hard limits and
give me a safe word?" Her eyes narrowed. "I'm no submissive,
Noah."

Interesting how her thought train stopped at
that station. No. A sub she definitely wasn't. "Are you a dom?" he
toyed.

She glanced away, not answering.

He stilled.

Oh, hell no. No way. Did he have her all
wrong? That certainly changed things. Even though he wasn't a
submissive, would never be, his shaft responded, thickening against
his inseam. "I'm not into BDSM. Handcuffs maybe. Toys definitely.
But whips and flogging and collars? Not even a little." Not that
there was anything wrong with that world, it just wasn't his
thing.

Returning her gaze to his, she let out a
breath, relief relaxing her features. Why didn't she just deny the
suggestion if she wasn't a dom?

Her gaze searched his. "What then? Why one
month?"

A quiet clatter came from the kitchen. His
gaze darted to her plate and back to her. "I tell you what. Let's
eat, and we can get into specifics after."

Her lips thinned. "You expect me to
eat?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want to insult Gino after
he went to all this trouble. Besides, knowing you, you haven't
eaten or slept much since my agent walked into your office on
Tuesday. Am I right?"

Just like that, she was back to old Raven. A
twist of her lips and she picked up her fork. "Touché."

Taking a sip of wine, he dug in, suddenly
hungry after all the heavy junk was out of the way. She was still
here. Nothing would come between them. They were solid.

After swallowing the last bite, he wiped his
mouth on a napkin and was pleased to see she ate half her meal.
Raven never did have a large appetite, so it was decent work for
her.

The waiter came and cleared their plates,
asking about dessert. Since Noah was pretty sure Raven wasn't on
the menu, they declined.

He topped off their wine and leaned back.
"Back to my offer. One month, you and me, and then it's done. We go
back to friendship and Friday night dinners discussing everything
from our businesses to politics." In his experience, anything
longer than thirty days got the heart involved. He didn't think
Raven was like other females in that regard, but he wouldn't risk
it.

She shook her head. "Sex changes
things."

He raised his brows. "Has it ever before?
For you? Have you wanted to get married and breed perfect little
dark-haired children after sex with any of your partners?"

He knew the answer was no. Any other
possibility and she'd be barefoot and pregnant. Every guy she set
her sights on would capture the moon in a box if she desired such a
thing. Her not being the other half of someone's whole was because
she didn't want to be.

She sighed. "You know I haven't. But we know
each other. Don't you think that makes this different?"

The most interesting fact about this
conversation, this entire night up until now, was she never denied
interest. Not once did
I'm not attracted to you
spring from
her lips. Scooting his chair back, he grabbed the arms of hers and
drew it flush, trapping her knees with his. When her breath caught,
he leaned closer and inhaled her scent in the curve of her neck
where her pulse beat wild.

Rain. She smelled like rain. Through the
years, he wondered how she mastered that, and he'd yet to watch a
storm where he didn't think about her.

Her hand landed on his forearm, warm and
steady, fingers tightening. "Noah?" Her hot breath fanned his
cheek, catapulting his erection from hard to painful.

"I want you. And I usually get what I want.
I had to wait too long to have you already." He lifted his head,
the rasp of his shadow filled the quiet as his cheek brushed hers.
Her lashes fluttered to half-mast, cementing his belief she wasn't
unaffected. "You live inside your head, where all the power is
overruling your ability to enjoy. It's why you've been unsatisfied
with your partners. I want you, and you need to learn to let
go."

He leaned in to whisper against her mouth,
until even a tremble couldn't come between them. "It'll be so good,
Raven."

A noise trapped in her throat. Desperation?
Frustration? Didn't matter. He'd made his point and she
understood.

Slowly, he rose and set a stack of bills on
the table. He waited for the desire to clear from her eyes while he
shoved into his coat. After several beats, her questioning gaze
lifted to his, her fingers tightening over the chair arms.

He buttoned his coat, hiding all traces of
her affect on him. "You need time to process. When you make your
decision, come to my condo on Friday night. One week. I'll cook for
you for a change." He paused, shoving his hands in his pockets so
he didn't touch. "Please wear that dress. It does things to me you
can't begin to understand."

Grinning when her eyes widened, he nodded
and walked out.

H
alfway through
Monday, any progress in regards to work was shot. Raven couldn't
get what happened with Noah out of her head.

Ten years they'd been friends, and she'd
never once suspected. Never suspected his alter ego or his
attraction to her. Worse, she couldn't decide what to do about
Friday. Should she go to his place?

She remembered when he'd bought the condo,
right after his company took off, around the same time she started
looking into investors for hers. She hadn't been there since the
first walk-through other than a handful of times. Noah knew she
preferred the comfort of her apartment, and rendered her that small
vice.

God. He was Hoan Dwell. Rich, mysterious,
sexy Hoan Dwell. The man who captured women through his lens with
innate skill. Noah had liked photography back in college. He used
to carry a camera around wherever he went. It had been years since
she'd seen him with one. So he could better hide what he was doing?
Who he was?

The tight ball in her stomach clenched. He'd
lied to her. For years. Part of her didn't think she'd ever be able
to trust him again. His reasons seemed valid, but he was so vague
in responding that she couldn't figure out what he was talking
about. Just what or who haunted his past? And why were they so
dangerous he was forced to lie to even her?

He was like two different people. The
comfortable best friend who she could talk to about anything and
the intense artist who showed up to dinner. The things he'd said,
the way he'd said them…the letters!

Noah. All along. Her cheeks flamed even now.
Heat pooled in her belly.

How strange that her mind didn't question
the shift from
hands off
to
please touch
. She didn't
even like being touched. It was illogical not to have a grace
period when merging from friends to lovers. Right? Not her. He'd
awakened something she thought dormant. And all he did was
talk.

Typically, any kind of attention made her go
into a full blown panic attack. When control was out of her hands,
she couldn't function. Though she was embarrassed, Noah didn't make
her afraid. He made her want. A temptation she never once risked.
But for him, with him, could she let go? He'd said as much that
night. He knew her hang ups. Most of them. It had been so very long
since sex was enjoyable that she'd almost screamed yes when he
presented the proposal.

Nicole strode into her office and set two
containers on her desk. "Lunch is served." She looked up and did a
double take. "What's wrong?"

Raven drew in a much needed breath and waved
her hand. "Nothing. Let's eat. Thanks for picking this up. I was
going over my notes for my two o'clock."

A new artist on the scene named Vincent
Soreno had contacted Elements out of nowhere and wanted to set up a
meeting. Raven had Googled him and came across an amateurish
website where he claimed to be a photographer for hire. Weddings
mostly. They didn't do that kind of thing, but she'd give him a
chance to show his stuff if he had anything worth viewing. His site
said he was from the east coast in the lower forty-eight and a
recent Alaskan transplant. Something about him rubbed her the wrong
way, but damn if she could place what.