Full Exposure

“Thank you.” She studied the policemen as they made their way past the destruction, obviously looking for the people involved. Panic crawled through her and she wanted desperately to run and hide. She didn’t want to talk to them, didn’t want to remember the last time she’d had to deal with the police.

Kevin placed a soothing hand at the small of her back, as if he could sense her trepidation. She closed her eyes briefly and squared her shoulders as he called the cops over to them. She could do this. Really, she could. If her knees would just stop shaking.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped her mask into place. This wasn’t about Sandra, she reminded herself. This was about a stupid accident. And the sooner she got this done with, the sooner she could move on with her day. Kevin’s day.

Serena made it through the questioning in a kind of daze, her mind jumping from the present to the past despite all her attempts to stay focused. Kevin never left her side, answered most of the questions for her, and generally lent her as much support as he was able to.

She’d never felt more cossetted—or more undeserving. This was Kevin’s big day and she should be the one supporting him. Instead, he was the one lending his strength to her. It was an occurrence that was becoming depressingly regular and she couldn’t help hating how one-sided their relationship seemed to be. She was the needy one, he was the strong one. For a woman who’d always prided herself on her ability to take care of herself, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

After the cops finally left, Kevin ushered her into a side office that Richard Matthias had given him the use of for the day. The security people were still milling around, but he firmly shut the door in their faces. Serena needed a little quiet time and so did he. He still couldn’t get the image of the green SUV bearing down on her out of his mind.

With very little fuss he managed to get her settled her into a large, wingback chair. She barely seemed to notice, so lost was she in a world of her own. He found himself frightened all over again, even as he took her ice-cold hands in his. It was as if she wasn’t there. He could feel her hands in his, see her body in front of him, but her mind was far away and he didn’t know if he would be able to reach her.

“Serena, mon coeur, look at me.” Her eyes remained hazy and unfocused. “Mon Dieu, bebe, you’re scaring me. Look at me. Please look at me.” He pressed his lips to hers, shocked by their iciness.

She pulled away, lifted a hand to his cheek. “I’m fine, Kevin. The police, the questions. It just makes me remember—”

“I know, cher.” He settled into the chair across from hers, then pulled her into his lap and cradled her as he would a child. “I wish it hadn’t needed to be like that.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know why it bothered me so much. I’m not usually such a …” Such a what, she asked herself. Idiot? Basket case? Psycho? “Honestly, Kevin, you’re seeing me at my worst.”

His strong artist’s fingers brushed her cheek as his lips skimmed lightly over her hair. “And here I’ve thought it was your best. You’re doing fine, Serena. Better than fine.”

“I’m never like this, Kevin. Why now?”

“Because you almost died today? Because your sister’s murderer’s on the streets? Because you can’t carry the world on your shoulders all the time?”

She stiffened against him. “I don’t want to talk about Sandra.”

“I hadn’t intended to. But why not? Why won’t you talk about your sister? You’ll never get past the pain if you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that you’ve tortured yourself for ten years over something you had no control of. I know you’re so caught up in the past that you can’t see the present. Or the future.”

Serena went ramrod stiff against him, pulling away to stare at him with injured eyes. “How can you say that to me?”

He looked her in the eyes. “Because I care about you. A lot more, apparently, than you do about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I’ve moved on with my life! I don’t talk about Sandra to anyone—except you. I don’t wallow in self-pity. I don’t—” Her voice broke and silent tears streamed down her face.

Compassion moved through him as he continued to stroke her hair, refusing to let Serena leave him despite her struggles. “There’s nothing wrong with discussing what happened to Sandra.”

“I know that! I think about it all the time.”

“You dwell on it,” he corrected. “You blame yourself for not stopping it. You hold your feelings inside until you’re ready to shatter. I’m afraid one day you will.”

She pushed against him, eyes blazing as a sense of betrayal nearly choked her. “And I should do what? Wear my feelings on my sleeve? Throw them around for everyone to see? Hide out in the bayou instead of living my life?”

“I’m not hiding out there,” Kevin answered smoothly. “I love it. It’s home. But you, you hide wherever you go, bebe. With your perfect manners and your buttoned-up shirts, you hide the real Serena behind a mask. That’s not healthy.”

“We’ve known each other two weeks and you presume to tell me what’s healthy?” Her eyes turned cold and she withdrew into her protective shell. He was seriously beginning to hate that shell.

He grabbed her and pulled her back against him, ignoring her resistance. “I know you.” His fingers dug into her shoulders as he forced her to look at him. “I know you’re scared of losing control. I know you ache every day because of what happened to Sandra. I know this parole hearing has ripped you apart.”

He stroked her cheek, ran a hand down her back to anchor her body against his. “But I also know that you are so much stronger than you think you are. If you let the emotions go, you aren’t going to shatter.” He pulled back, looked into her eyes. “You’ve got to give yourself a break, cher. You’re so incredibly strong. You’ve got to be strong enough to bend, before you end up destroying yourself with guilt.”

Serena stared straight ahead, desperate to block out Kevin’s words. But they made sense and they worked their way, insidiously, into her consciousness. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” His voice was firm, implacable.

“I’m not like you, Kevin. I’m not brave, I do care what others think of me. I do care about my career and the future and what I’ll do if nobody likes my work.”

“I’m not asking you to be like me. I like you the way you are.” He tilted her chin up, made her look at him again. “And you are very brave.”

She moved to protest, but he stopped her. “I can’t believe how brave you are. I couldn’t do what you do. I couldn’t wake up every morning and function despite the pain. I couldn’t go to that parole hearing and dredge up a past I despised. I couldn’t control myself when anger threatened to rip me apart.”

He pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead. “You are so incredibly courageous, Serena. How can you not see that? How can you not take the next step and allow yourself to begin to heal? How much penance do you think you need to do? Ten years is long enough to torture yourself.”

Her voice was rusty when she spoke. “I was there. I let him in.”

“And if you hadn’t, she would have gone running after him. You know that.” She tried to look away, but he refused to let her. “You have to stop blaming yourself. You’re letting the actions of one sadistic bastard rule your life. Hasn’t he taken enough from you? It’s time to stop letting him take your self-respect.”

She shuddered, leaned into him. “I can’t stand knowing that he’s free while my sister’s stuck in some cold, rotting tomb. I can’t stand the idea of running into him somewhere—at a party, a wedding, the supermarket. If I don’t have control of myself, I’ll loose it completely.”

“No, you won’t. You’d never give him the satisfaction.” He leaned down, kissed her gently. “I know your sister’s death will always be a part of you. I know you’ll never let it go. But you can’t let it destroy you anymore. You have to care for yourself, take some time to heal yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Then let me help.”

Her eyes flew to his, startled. “You?”

His stomach clenched, but he ignored it. “Yes, me. I’m not going anywhere, Serena. This isn’t just until you’ve got enough shots of me for the stupid book.”

“I thought …”

“You thought what?” His eyebrows rose imperiously.

“I thought you wouldn’t want …” She struggled to find an answer he wouldn’t think offensive.

“Wouldn’t want what? Wouldn’t want you? I want you so much I couldn’t sleep the three days you were gone. I want you so much my hands ache when they can’t touch you.”

She moved to interrupt, but he silenced her with a finger against her lips. She looked so shocked that doubts began to assail him. Had he read her completely wrong? Was she just killing time with him? Using him like Deb had?

But Serena wasn’t like that. He closed his eyes for a minute, saw again the joy on her face last night as she stood surrounded by various pieces of his work. He remembered the light in her eyes when she photographed him, the passion between them as they made love. No, she wasn’t using him.

Serena was as serious about him as he was about her, whether she knew it or not. Now it was just a matter of treading carefully until she reached the same conclusions he’d already drawn. He reached up, stroked a hand through her hair. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks. I know it’s too soon to talk about the future. But you need to understand that this isn’t casual. I won’t let you walk away from me when this book is done.”

Serena stared at him for a minute, the room totally silent except for the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall near the door. Kevin was asking for a lot, for more than she’d ever been willing to give. When she was with a guy—which wasn’t that often, she admitted ruefully—she was always careful of the ground rules. Keep things hot in bed and cool everywhere else. Remember that the relationship won’t last. Keep it casual.

From the very beginning, Kevin had blown that credo out of the water. Cooking her breakfast after she’d freaked out, holding her when she’d cried, making love to her until she screamed. None of those actions were casual.

Panic rushed through her, making her stomach clench and her head hurt. What was she supposed to do about him? He was a good man, surprisingly good. But there wasn’t room in her life for a serious relationship.

Why not? an insidious voice inside her head cried out. Why can’t you be with him? He’s right. You can’t wallow in guilt forever.

Sandra’s dead, she answered the voice.

But you’re not.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she concentrated on counting to ten as she slowly exhaled. This was getting her nowhere, getting them nowhere. Kevin’s opening started in—she glanced at the clock—fifteen minutes and she didn’t even know if he’d finished installing the sculpture. She’d been so numb when he ushered her through the lobby that she wouldn’t have seen a nuclear warhead sitting there.

“We need to go,” she told him.

“Go where?” he demanded.

She gestured toward the lobby. “Your presentation.”

“Screw my presentation. I want to finish this.”

She sighed heavily. “Kevin—”

A knock sounded on the door and she grabbed on to it like a lifeline. Serena rushed across the room and threw the door open, shocked to see her agent standing on the other side.