Exposure (13 page)

The information her mother gave her about
how--and where--her biological father had died must've given her
the answers she'd needed to connect the dots on why she feared the
missionary position. She couldn't remember that part of her past,
but something subconscious did, and now that Raven understood, she
would try everything to get past it. That was just who she was.
Strong. A fighter.

Shrugging out of his suit coat, he stripped
off his tie, keeping his gaze locked to hers as he unbuttoned his
shirt. When it was tossed aside, he made quick work of his pants
and walked slowly over to the bed.

He had to clear his throat twice to speak.
"Are you sure, baby?"

She nodded.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he ran
his fingers from her collarbone to her navel, earning a shiver.
"What's your safeword, Raven?"

"Sage." She blinked up at him. "But I don't
need it."

"You might," he said, his voice rougher than
his breathing. "All you ever have to do is use the safeword, and
I'll stop. Always. No matter what. I'll know you've hit your
limit." He ran his fingers back up her taut belly to lightly trace
her nipples. "We all have limits, baby."

And hell. She was his.

With great care, he slid under the sheet and
rose over her, bracing himself on his elbows to not crush her. He
waited, but her expression never changed. Still, to give her time
to adjust, he brushed his nose with hers and kissed her
lightly.

It was she who eventually cranked the heat,
deepening the kiss and arching up to meet him. Her thighs spread,
welcoming his hips between them. He kept his weight off, his palms
on the mattress, and made love to her mouth. Her hands skimmed his
shoulders, his back, as if relearning his body before eventually
settling on his hips.

His cock throbbed, but he held himself in
check. Lifting his head, he watched her as he slid his shaft
between her folds, testing her readiness. Slick, wet heat met
him.

"Raven," he murmured, easing back so the
head of his cock poised at her opening.

Her dark eyes met his, not a trace of fear
in them. "I want you--"

He pushed inside with one fluid stroke.
Again, he paused, arms shaking with restraint. She wrapped her arms
around his back and her legs around his hips, nursing him deeper
into her soft, giving body.

He buried his face in her neck, his hold
slipping. "Fuck, baby…"

"Noah."

That was all it took. His name on her lips,
spoken in passion and not fear. A plea to give her what she needed.
Damn if he could do anything else but give.

One arm worked between her ass and the
mattress, angling her hips to take more of him. The other cupped
the back of her head and held her against his rough kiss. He
withdrew and pushed back inside, the glide slick and tight and hot.
He tore his mouth away to suck in a ragged breath, dropping his
forehead to hers.

He took her with slow strokes, and she met
him with a moan, urging him on. She said his name, over and over. A
plea. A demand. There was nothing better than hearing her say his
name. Nothing. Sweat soaked their skin. Testing her, he drove into
her a little harder, faster.

"Ah, Noah.
Yes, yes, yes
." Her nails
raked his scalp. Her legs banded tighter, heels digging into his
ass and urging him for more. She threw her head back, and the scent
of rain mixed with musk surrounded them.

He grabbed the headboard with one hand to
keep them from drifting as he ground into her. Again and again.
With each punishing thrust, she grew more demanding, until her
walls clenched around his shaft and she cried out, holding his head
to her collarbone as she came.

He followed, driving twice more, and
strained. Violent shudders wracked his body until he was completely
drained. Spent, he tried to roll them to the side, but she held him
firm.

"No. Stay like this. Don't…move."

He rested the side of his face between her
breasts and slid his arms around her, unsure of what, if anything,
could be said after that storm. Her fingers combed his hair lazily,
and he fell asleep just like that, with her holding him for a
change.

H
ow fitting her and
Noah's last day together be Valentine's--a holiday they both
despised and was the epitome of everything they rejected about
romantic love. In the past, no matter who they'd been dating, she
and Noah spent Valentine's Day together, usually watching an action
movie in her apartment. Except this year, he demanded they do
something different.

She glanced down at the dress laid out on
her bed. This morning, she'd packed up her things and told Noah
she'd return to her apartment after work. Their time was up. Other
than a clench of his jaw and a tight nod, he had no response. She'd
come home from the gallery to find the dress and a note. She'd
tried to sever the physical aspect of their relationship cleanly,
just as he'd wanted…as she'd wanted, even though a tiny part of her
hoped…

Wear this tonight. I'm taking you out.

How did he even know the right size? And
shoes, too. A thin slip of a dress, it was ankle-length and dark
red, with the neckline coming to a V between her breasts and a slit
going up one thigh. It felt like silk between her fingers. The
shoes were black heels and three thousand dollars. Both Nicole and
Raven had sighed over the pair on their last shopping trip.

Since when did he buy her expensive
gifts?

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she reached
into her nightstand for the key to her jewelry box and wrapped her
hands around a small leather-bound book instead. Drawing it out,
she set it in her lap. Years ago, a psychiatrist had given it to
her and told her to write her thoughts inside. Like a diary or
journal, it was supposed to help her come to terms with her
memories. She'd never written in it, the pages blank.

She glanced at the dress and then the book.
What better time to start than now, when her feelings were a
kaleidoscope of crazy? Snatching a pen from the drawer, she cleared
her mind and just wrote the first thing that popped in her head.
She'd written two pages, hardly noticing what she'd penned, when
the doorbell rang.

She whipped her glance to the alarm clock.
It was almost seven.

"Shit." Running to the door, she carelessly
tossed the book on the coffee table before turning the knob.
"Max?"

He smiled. "Don't be too disappointed. I've
been instructed to deliver you to dinner with Mr. Caldwell."

"Oh. I'm running behind. Give me a few
minutes to change. Come in."

"I'll wait here for you."

"You will not. It's freezing." She grabbed
the lapels of his coat and pulled him inside, though she suspected
he let her. She'd never budge a man his size.

She shut the door and went down the hall.
"Be right back."

He cleared his throat. "No rush, ma'am."

"Max," she said in a warning tone, shrugging
out of her work suit.

"Sorry, Miss Crowne." His voice was deep and
loud as it traveled to her.

Setting the clothes on her bed, she unzipped
the dress. "I can hear you smiling." She stepped into the dress and
twisted to zip the back.

"I can't help it, Miss Crowne. You're a very
likable person."

Aw. Hell. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She rushed into the bathroom, brushed her
hair, decided she didn't have time to putz with it, and spritzed
her neck with perfume. Her makeup had survived the workday, but she
touched up her lipstick and made her way to the living room.

Max gave an appreciative nod, holding out
her long, black peacoat. "Very lovely, Miss Crowne."

"Thanks, Max. You're full of sweetness
today." She placed her arms in the coat he held and turned to
button it. His face was scarlet, but she didn't call him out.
Chances were, he didn't get to converse with many people. If he
stayed on her detail, she'd like to at least be able to talk to
him. "Are you still my bodyguard?"

"Yes, ma'am…Miss Crowne."

"You should call me Raven, then."

Flustered, he opened the door. "After
you."

They wove through the dark, icy streets of
Tartok Crest in the opposite direction of Anchorage with the
Northern Lights as a backdrop against a starry night. The moon was
full and clear, illuminating the snow and storefronts. There wasn't
much down this way except The Sound, and no restaurants were this
far south.

"Where are we going?"

"I've been instructed not to say." He
glanced at her in the rearview and then back to the road.

"Do you always do as instructed?"

"Most of the time."

Ha. Humor. "I instruct you to tell me where
we're going."

He didn't laugh as she'd hoped, or even
crack a smile. His jaw hardened and his gaze kept shifting from the
rearview to the road. His entire demeanor changed from jovially
reserved to alert and tense. Very calmly, he said, "Miss Crowne,
please lie down in the seat and make sure your seatbelt is
buckled."

Her heart stopped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Please do as I
said."

Suddenly shaking, she lay down crossways on
the seat and tightened her belt, cold sweat lacing her skin.

He pushed a button on the console to
activate Bluetooth and, a second later, someone by the name of
Hintz answered. Max shoved an earpiece into his ear. "We have a
tail." He gave a handful of one word answers and disconnected.

The car changed lanes and Raven tried to
swallow through her fear. What the heck was going on? And why was
someone following them? For the entire three weeks Max had been her
shadow, nothing even close to worrisome had occurred. The car
swerved back again and picked up speed. She bit back a cry and dug
her fingernails into her palms. Closing her eyes, she focused on
her breathing to avoid a panic attack.

In, out. In, out.

"You can sit up now, Miss Crowne."

Blowing out a breath, she straightened in
the seat and smoothed her hair. She shifted to look out the back
window, but there were no headlights. "Max--"

He tapped his earpiece and said, "It's gone.
Yes, I'm sure. No, sir. We're heading to you now. We had to circle
around off route." There was a lengthy pause in which Max regarded
her in the rearview before answering. "She's quite calm, sir."

She fisted her shaking hands in her lap.
Calm, her ass. Fighting back tears, she glared out the window
toward Prince William Sound. Ships, docked at the harbor, bobbed
and swayed in the frigid wind. Some crab boats dotted the horizon.
The Northern Lights reflected off the choppy water. Truly
beautiful, a sight she'd never grow tired of…if her heart wasn't
stuck in her throat and her limbs blocks of ice.

There was no deluding herself anymore.
Though nothing had come of being followed tonight, Max's reaction
was a slap of reality. He wouldn't have made her lie down if he
hadn't thought bullets were a possibility. He wouldn't have called
backup for a simple tail. Noah's security wasn't a precaution or
because of his parents' old ghosts. He was living with a very real
threat and had been since before they'd met.

The car stopped and she glanced up. They'd
parked at a private pier on the edge of The Sound where a large
yacht bobbed on the water. Lights illuminated the interior. Max
came around and swept his hard gaze across the area before opening
her door. On unsteady legs, she rose and hunched against the wind.
He took her elbow and walked her to the edge of the pier.

A door snapped and Noah emerged by the
railing of the boat. With one smooth, fluid motion, he leapt from
the bough to the pier and stalked toward her, his blond hair
catching the wind. She halted to watch him eat the distance, her
relief so heavy tears blurred her eyes. He strode right to her,
palmed her cool cheeks in his warm hands, and kissed her
soundly.

"Are you all right?" His gaze swept over her
before he crushed her against him. Tension radiated off of him. He
shook from it. Cupping the back of her head, he held her to him and
spoke in her ear. "I was fucking worried sick."

"She handled it well."

Noah spoke to Max over her head, his hold on
her unrelenting. "Details."

"Dark blue or black Ford pickup. Newer
model. It tailed us halfway enroute." There was a pause. "It was
the same vehicle from two weeks ago. This time he wanted me to know
he was there. After a mile, it turned off before Hintz could arrive
for backup."

This had happened before? And she hadn't
known?

"Fuck. We need to go back to the condo.
We're too wide open here."

"Agreed. Hintz is meeting us here. I'll
redirect him." Max's shoes crunched as he walked away.

Noah pulled her away from him, his hard,
glacial blue eyes scanning her face.

Tears filled her eyes again, falling and
freezing on her face. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so upset.
Nothing happened--" Her legs threatened to buckle.

"Ah, baby." He crushed her to him again, as
if unable to let her go. "It would scare anyone. Hell, I still
can't...Swear to God, I think I died when Max called." Bending, he
swept an arm under her legs and carried her to the SUV with long,
determined strides.

Her legs were frozen under her dress by the
time they were driving again. Or maybe it was the shock because her
whole body was ice. Keeping her sideways in his lap, Noah absently
ran his hands up and down the length of them, cheek resting on the
top of her head. He ordered Max to turn up the heat.

"I want you back at the condo. It has more
security and we can protect you better." He paused when she didn't
respond. "If you'd like, you can stay in the guestroom. If you
don't want…to sleep next to me." His voice was strained and low, on
the cusp of snapping like he'd done that day in the shower.