Everybody's Hero. Tracy Kelleher

blocking the lens. “No more pictures.”

      She peered over the top. “No more pictures?”

      “No.” His voice was quiet but firm.

      And it didn’t seem in jest at all. Claire slowly lowered the camera. “Well, in that case, I might as well pack up and wait while you hit the showers.” She chattered nervously as she straightened up.

      He moved his hand to her wrist. “Why don’t you not.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the inside of her wrist.

      Claire closed her eyes, telling herself she wasn’t feeling the shooting spark of pleasure that penetrated every nerve ending of her body. I will not respond, she told herself. Then she felt him take her other wrist and double the torture.

      I will not respond, she told herself again.

      His fingers slid slowly up her forearms, coming to rest at her elbows. He massaged the sensitive skin, scraping his nails lightly along the crease. Claire nearly buckled at the knees. So much for not responding.

      She opened her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

      “Because I want you. And because you want me.”

      “Maybe.” Maybe? Who was she kidding? Even in deep REM sleep her body would be pulsating with desire.

      But her sense of vulnerability was just as strong as her passion, if not stronger. “This is ridiculous. You can’t want somebody you’ve only met,” she protested as much to herself as to Jason. Isn’t that what Trish had argued in the cab the other day? She reached out to steady herself on the bar resting on a stand behind her.

      “We may have only come face-to-face yesterday, but I’ve known about you longer.” Jason stood.

      His naked torso was close, impossible for Claire to ignore. The damp swirls of hair on his chest rose and fell with each slow breath. She gripped the bar harder. “You mean, you knew about me from the spread on Clyde Allthorpe?”

      “When I spoke to Trish a while back, she told me that you were the one who shot those pictures. So naturally I was curious. But I was even more intrigued when she assured me that you were the same C. Marsden whose name used to appear under photos from all sorts of godforsaken places.”

      Claire looked sideways to avoid his stare. “I wouldn’t have thought world news was your thing, let alone noticing the photo credits.”