Full Exposure

She’d spent years cultivating her smooth outer shell—so many years that no one even remembered the girl she’d once been. Not even her. And now she’d let Kevin in—had let him see her with all her defenses down. She felt naked, exposed, and she couldn’t stand the vulnerability.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Serena inhaled and exhaled slowly. Battled the rising panic and slowly unfurled her clenched fists. She could handle this. Compared to what had happened ten years before, compared to what awaited her in front of that parole board, getting through the next hour was a walk in the park. She just had to get herself, and her emotions, under control before she did.

Pushing her chair back from the desk, she strode across the room and stared at herself in the mirror above the sturdy, unfinished pine dresser. She looked pale, frazzled, on edge. She laughed, but it was a sound tinged more with cynicism than humor. She was frazzled and on edge. How could she not be? She was in the middle of the biggest project she’d ever been involved with, perched to blow her career wide open, and she was falling apart.

Her brown eyes were shadowed, made even darker by the purple circles underneath them. Her light summer tan looked sallow with her unnatural pallor and her mouth was drawn into a tight line. Quite a difference from the sexually charged woman of the night before. But the blackout last night, followed by the nightmare, had been one stress too many on her already maxed-out system. It would be a miracle if she managed to get out of Kevin’s house without making a complete and total fool of herself.

Serena laughed again, bitterly. Oh yeah, she’d already done that. She picked up her brush, ran it through her hair one last time—more because it gave her something to do than because she cared what her hair looked like. When she was finished, she dropped the brush into her open luggage and slowly zipped the sensible gray case shut. Taking a bracing breath, she opened her bedroom door and headed down the hall to find Kevin.

He was making eggs. Bacon sizzled on the back burner and coffee dripped slowly into its glass carafe. Her stomach twisted violently and for a moment Serena thought she’d have to make a mad dash for the bathroom. But a couple of deep breaths and a huge dose of willpower settled her down enough that she could walk sedately into the kitchen.

Her eyes fell on Kevin. Did the man ever wear a shirt, she wondered, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She was determined to ignore the fine trembling that had started as soon as she laid eyes on him.

His faded jeans had a hole under his back, left pocket and if she looked hard enough she could see a tanned, lightly haired thigh. Not that she was looking, Serena reminded herself sternly, forcing her gaze away from his tempting flesh. His feet, big and bare, were tanned. She watched as they tapped in rhythm to a song only Kevin could hear.

She cleared her throat, prepared to speak, but Kevin whirled around before she could get a word out. “Oh hey, there you are!” He grinned. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Umm, yeah, I did.”

“Good.” He gestured to the loaf of bread on the counter. “You want to make the toast? The coffee’s just about ready.”

Was he going to make it easy for her, she wondered, as she started the bread toasting mechanically. No mention of last night? Like he hadn’t seduced her more thoroughly than any man, ever, with a simple bite on her finger? Sudden anger burned in the pit of her stomach though she wasn’t sure why. Isn’t this what she’d wanted? Not to have to deal with her insane and impulsive loss of control? Not to have to make excuses for cutting things short?

She viciously buttered the toast, nearly ripping the first piece in half. Had he just been using her as a convenience, to scratch an itch? Her cheeks flared, the pallor of a few minutes before replaced by her sudden indignation. No man treated her like that, as if she were just a warm body in the middle of the night! She kept her affairs casual, true, but that was because she liked them that way. Who did Kevin Riley think he was?

“What did that toast do to you, cher?” he murmured, his voice warm with laughter as his arms circled her waist from behind.

Serena jumped, nearly sending the toast and butter knife careening across the kitchen. His breath was warm in her ear, sending shivers down her spine as his teeth nibbled leisurely at her earlobe.

“What are you doing?” She meant to sound outraged, but her voice betrayed her, coming out more than a little breathy.

“Saying good morning.” His mouth coasted slowly down her jaw as he pulled her deeper into his embrace. “Good morning.”

She melted before she could stop herself, her body turning hot and liquid. She wanted to stay here forever, letting his lips work their magic over her entire body. A moan rose in her throat, and she had to work extremely hard to stifle it. Forcing herself to stand straight up, refusing to lean into his body, was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. But she couldn’t do this, not now, not with this man. No matter how badly she wanted to.

She cleared her throat, striving to sound professional. “Good morning.”

He didn’t get the hint, pulling her back flush against him. Her knees nearly buckled as she felt him rubbing, hot and hard, against her. Using every ounce of strength she could muster, she picked up the plate of toast and ducked out from beneath his arms. “Ready to eat?”

Kevin studied her with suddenly narrowed eyes. “I guess I am.” He grabbed the two plates of food near the stove and strode to the table. “Here.” He thumped hers down before sitting in his chair.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded strangled, but it was the best she could do. She felt bereft without his arms around her, but she had only herself to blame. It was better this way, she told herself as she settled down at the table. She had a feeling Kevin could make things extremely complicated when he wanted to.

* * *

Thank you. The words echoed in Kevin’s head as he tried to tamp down on the fury slowly setting his body on fire. What kind of game was Serena playing? From cold to hot and back to cold? With no warning or explanation? He studied her closely, from the serenity of her expression to the rock-steady hands slowly bringing the coffee cup to her lips.

Gone were the sexy siren of last night and the lost little girl of early this morning. In their place was the woman he had met three days ago. Calm, cold, collected, a small but superior smile tilting the corners of her lips.

“The eggs are very good.” When she spoke, her voice was as steady as her hands, all trace of desire gone as if it had never been. But he’d felt her tremble in his arms, last night and again a few minutes ago. Had felt her body melt into his before she could stop it. So what was going on?

“Wine,” he said, his voice sounding harsh to his own ears.

“Excuse me?” She looked at him inquisitively, that small and intensely irritating smile still on her lips. He itched to wipe it off, to bridge the distance that had sprung up between them.

“I put a little white wine in when I was mixing them. It’s how my mother taught me.” He caught her eye.

“Oh. It’s good.” She tried to look away, but he held her cool gaze with his hot one, refusing to let her. He didn’t know how long they sat like that, eyes locked, her fork poised halfway to her mouth, his hand wrapped around his coffee mug. But for a moment, just a moment, an answering heat blazed in her own eyes and her lips parted, as if she was having trouble breathing. The hand holding the fork trembled before she could stop it and her other hand slowly closed into a fist.

So she wasn’t as cool as she liked to pretend. The knowledge calmed him, temporarily subduing the beast that had begun to rise in him. He took a deep sip of coffee, ignoring the slight pain that came from the steaming brew.

“Are you hot?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was strangled.

He raised one eyebrow inquiringly, even as his lips curled into a smile that was more a threat than a sign of genuine amusement. “You’re sweating.” He gestured to the single drop of sweat slowly working its way down the side of her face. She definitely wasn’t as cool as she wanted him to believe.

Her hand came up defensively, wiping away the condemning drop before she could stop herself. “I guess it is a little warm in here. With the stove, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty comfortable. But I can lower the AC if you want me to.”

“No!” Serena stopped, took a deep breath. “I mean, I’m fine. And I’m not going to be here long enough for it to kick in.”

Rage erupted inside of him, running up his spine to his brain at an alarming rate. Fighting to keep his head from exploding, Kevin clenched his fists and studied her through eyes that had turned nearly black with fury. He forgot to be detached. He forgot to act careless. He forgot everything but the anger burning him from the inside out.

When he spoke, his voice was a low, furious throb. “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

“I am not a coward.” Her voice dripped ice. “I simply have things that I need to take care of, things that can’t be done from here.”

“Bullshit. You’re running away.” He raked a hand through his hair, even as his eyes bore viciously into her own. “What’s the matter, Serena? Too scared to finish what you started?”

“I didn’t start anything.” At his derisive snort, her spine stiffened even more. He hadn’t thought it possible for anyone to actually sit that straight.

“I didn’t,” she insisted. “While I definitely …” Her voice trailed off before she caught herself, cleared her throat. “While I definitely participated last night, I did so without any premeditation. You started it, I went along with it. But now I’ve changed my mind.”

“Just like that? And I’m just supposed to go along with that?” He lifted one eyebrow sardonically, deliberately setting her teeth on edge.

“A woman’s prerogative.” She stared defiantly at him for a moment, before dropping her eyes to her plate. He felt, more than heard, her sigh. “Look, Kevin, it’s a bad idea.”

“What is?” He refused to make it easy for her. She set him on fire, made him burn hotter and harder than any woman ever had and then copped out at the last minute? Not in this lifetime.

He studied her br**sts beneath the gray oxford shirt, saw her ni**les pebble under his hot gaze before she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. No, he mused. Definitely not in this lifetime.

“Just because we—kissed—doesn’t mean I have to sleep with you.”

“You’re right.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “So, it’s okay then. You understand what I’m saying.”

He let his gaze linger on her br**sts before slowly looking her in the eye. “No.”

“No, you don’t understand?” Her eyebrows furrowed adorably. Despite his anger, he wanted to smooth kisses along them, soothing the fear and confusion he could literally feel rolling off her.

But instead of comforting her, he raised the tension. She had to understand that she couldn’t run from this thing that was between them. “Oh, I understand.” He smiled at the relief that flashed in her eyes. “But it’s not remotely close to being okay.”

He watched her struggle for a response, saw her mouth open and shut several times before she finally got her feet back under her. “Well, that’s too bad for you, isn’t it? Because you’re not the one calling the shots around here.”

“And you are?” He struggled to keep the superior smile on his face. Struggled to remain calm and aloof. Was she about to call his bluff?

“Yes! I mean—” She stopped herself, tugged at the simple gold hoop in her ear. “What I mean is, I definitely am in control of myself. And I’m not going to sleep with you. Not now and not in the foreseeable future.”