“I’m just saying that you don’t date much. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to work.”
Smiling sweetly, Clair said, “Want me to hold that shoebox for you?”
“No.” Harris laughed at her fallen expression. “I’m going to run it over to my place and lock it inside, safe and sound.”
The way her jaw worked, Harris thought she might be grinding her teeth. “So you can stare at the photos and fantasize tonight?”
“Don’t sneer, Clair. It makes you look like a prude.” As he walked away, Harris heard Clair call him a choice name. He glanced around in time to witness her stomping toward her apartment. Too bad Clair didn’t understand about lust. If she ever turned all that emotion loose in the sack, she just might be magnificent.
Harris caught his train of thought and growled. He’d better find his mystery lady soon, because lack of nookie was making him crazed.
He needed a woman—his mystery woman. Sexy. Provocative. And she thought he was sensitive. What more could a guy ask for?
CHAPTER TWO
THANKS TO THE DUAL effects of worry and mortification, Clair suffered through an endlessly long, sleepless night and was dragging as she headed into work the next day.
Thank God Harris hadn’t recognized her.
Just thinking about his expression as he’d stared at her—Clair shuddered in agonizing horror. This was too unbelievable. If she ever found Kyle, the jerk she’d dated, the jerk who’d taken those pictures without her knowing, she’d strangle him.
During the darkest hours of the night, memories had flooded back on Clair, memories of Kyle begging her to let him photograph her, and the distinct recollection of her saying a firm, unequivocal no.
But she also recalled him showing off a teeny tiny camera, one he used to take photos without anyone knowing. At the time, he’d claimed it was to get candid, rather than posed shots of people for his gallery. And he had taken some, but to her knowledge, he’d never shown one without a signed permission slip and financial compensation.
At least he hadn’t put hers in the gallery. But to throw them away behind the building...had the idiot never heard of a paper shredder? And to include her notes with them! Clair pulled into the lot where she worked and took a moment to cover her face with her hands. The only saving grace was that she hadn’t signed any of the notes. If Harris had seen her signature at the end... Well, she honestly didn’t know what he’d do.
It had taken Clair a moment to realize she was the subject of the photos. Her hair had been longer then, and her face hidden. But she had recognized herself. Harris, however, had been utterly oblivious to that fact. He plain and simply didn’t see her as a sexual woman, which emphasized how little attention he paid to her femaleness.
That had been really frustrating over the past few months, but now she was more than a little grateful. She only hoped he never showed the photos to anyone. Even if no one ever guessed her identity, she couldn’t bear the thought of people seeing her in the raw.
Because moping wasn’t something she enjoyed, she shoved her car door open and stepped out into the blistering day. If the humidity had been bad before the storm, it was ten times worse now. Immediately her shirt stuck to her back, and even through her dressy, flat-heeled sandals, she could feel the scorching heat of the blacktop. As a concession to the weather, she wore a sleeveless cotton shirt and loose, flowing skirt. She slung a canvas bag over her arm and started in.
She’d use the day at work as a distraction to get her mind off nude photos, thickheaded men, and her jackass ex-boyfriend. At the moment, there wasn’t anything she could do about any of them, so it was best not to dwell on it.
Cool air-conditioning rolled over her the moment she entered the building. Though she was early, Dane and Alec, the P.I.s she worked for, already had a client in the inner office with them. They’d relocated from the city so they’d have more free time for their wives and kids. But it seemed their small town was rife with drama, and they often stayed busy. At least here, though, the cases were seldom all that threatening.
Clair could hear their quiet conversation, see the movement of male bodies through opaque glass. She put her purse away and turned her computer on, then went straight to the coffeepot.
She already had things underway when Dane stuck his head out the door. “Clair, would you mind bringing in some coffee?”
“Not at all. It’ll be done in two more minutes.”
“Thanks.” He ducked back inside.
Making coffee wasn’t in her job description, but small requests never offended Clair. It helped that Dane and Alec were consummate gentlemen and didn’t take her, or her talents, for granted. As often as not, they carried coffee to her.
A few minutes later, with sugar, powdered creamer and three mugs of steaming coffee on a tray, Clair used her foot to tap at the door. Alec opened it. He looked darker and more intense than usual, but then Alec could be a poster model for tall, dark and dangerous.
He gave her a nod. “Nothing like caffeine to kick off the day.”
Clair smiled. “Tough case?”
“Different, that’s for sure.” He took the tray from her and she started to exit the office.
“Hey, Clair.”
At the sound of Harris’s voice, Clair froze in midstep. Oh no. Please, no. Slowly, wincing with dread, she pivoted stiffly to face him.
He was at Dane’s workstation—the cursed photos spread out on the surface.
Oh. Dear. God.
Heat rolled from her chest right up to her hairline, making her dizzy with the shock of it. For a single moment, Clair thought she might faint, especially when Dane picked up the shower shot for a closer look.
Alec rejoined the men, staring at her naked body with a frown. “Do you see any distinguishing marks? Moles or scars or anything?”
Clair’s knees trembled, threatening to buckle.
“No. No jewelry either.”
Did she have time to run out and get her ears pierced?
Dane shook his head. “Just lots of smooth skin. Maybe we should have these photos blown up.”
Clair staggered back against the door. Blow them up? Blow them up! As in, make them...bigger? Her throat closed and she couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t say a single word. She tried to get out a denial, to dissuade them from that horrendous plan, but all that emerged was an appalled squeak.
Harris glanced her way, did a double take, then rushed toward her. “Damn, Clair, you okay?” He caught her arms and physically forced her into a chair. Good thing too, because she was about ready to sink to the floor. Maybe through the floor if she got lucky.
Over his shoulder, Harris said to Alec, “I think she’s been in the heat too long this morning. You got a cold cloth or something?”
Alec was a man of action. Within seconds, he had a pad of paper towels, dripping with icy water from the rest room.
All three big men loomed around her, Harris trying to slap the wet towels against her face, Dane fanning her with a stack of papers, and Alec taking her pulse.
They’d seen her naked.
It wasn’t to be borne. Never in her life had she known such bone-deep humiliation, and it numbed her.
Harris reached for the top button of her blouse. “I’m going to loosen her clothes. She still looks too pale.”
That brought Clair around. She shot to her feet, staggered, got steadied by six big hands, and shoved away from them all. She waved a fist with credible