Intimate Portraits (26 page)

She knew not to come out till he
got done.

Bernie was stressed. “You screwed
up.”

“I scr—? What you frigging talking
about? I got it done, didn’t I?”

“To the wrong woman.”

“The wrong—No way.”

“You did. You know who I just got
off the line with? Our client. And he’s pissed. Real pissed. I don’t know who
you did but this photog—uh, porn star is back at her place and the bird’s
people will be home tomorrow and if the woman talks, we’ll be hurting.”

The wrong woman. What the shit
was Bernie talking about?

Bernie got a little shrill. “I’ve
got a plane chartered at the regular place for seven tomorrow morning. Get your
ass on it and get back down there and finish the job.”

Damn it, Bernie knew how he felt
about charters. “I don’t like them frigging little planes.”

“If this woman puts two and two
together, she’s liable to mention the stuff. And my client’s poured a lot of money
into keeping this thing quiet. Listen, we don’t want to screw around with this
guy, Sammy, believe me, we don’t.”

Shit, Bernie’s frigging terrified.
Who’s he working for?

Bernie was rushing on. “I
arranged for a rental car when you land. You get on that plane tomorrow morning
and get down there. Clean it up.”

The connection was broken.

Sam turned off the cell and looked
at the dark night patterns playing on the ceiling.

The wrong woman.

Who the hell was Bernie’s client
that had him so scared?

Jeez. All these damned Hispanics
running around with the photographer, and the wad of money he was making off
this job…

Had to be some of the bad news
people from South America. The kind of people what made Sam real nervous.

He had principles, Sam did. He didn’t
mind doing people who needed it, but this job was beginning to bother him. First
Sarita. Okay, maybe she
was
a druggie and a blackmailer. Maybe she
did
enjoy seeing men kill one another over her.

But that voice couldn’t be
replaced and he’d been the one to mute it.

Now he found out he’d offed some
woman he didn’t even know.

All for the sake of some Latin
gorillas buying a pathway for their drugs. If he’d known that was what was
going down, he never woulda taken the contract.

Sam didn’t approve of drugs.

But he had taken it.

His wife reappeared from the
bathroom. “Did I hear you cussing out here, Sammy?”

“What?” Had he? “Guess I slipped
up, Rena. Sorry.”

“Hafta watch out in front of the
boys. You agreed.” She sat on the bed and took off her house shoes. “You gotta
leave again? When you just got in?”

“Yeah. Sorry, cupcake.” Her
disappointment washed over him. It took his mind off dangerous four-seater
airplanes and rental cars and having to depend on people he didn’t know. He threw
back the cover so she could crawl in. “Saved you a warm place. Hey, I’m rested
up if you got something good in mind.”

Shit, it stunk having to leave when
he’d barely got home.

****

On Monday, as a nervous Sam Bogatti
sat bolt upright in the seat of his chartered plane flying toward Atlanta,
Autumn and Rennie lay in bed. He was asleep but she was awake, nestled against
him when the opal tinge of dawn strengthened into brilliant morning.

She liked being with him as he
slept. His chest lay flat and hard beneath her cheek. The muscles in his arm
curved as his hand rested on her shoulder. His scent, of sex and vestiges of cedar
cologne, suffused her.

How great if she could lie here
beside him forever, sated and content, letting her love reach out and enfold
the two of them in their own cocoon.

The phone rang.

Oh, no. Not again
.

Rennie shifted. His eyes opened,
blinked, found her watching him. A startled look gave way to a sleepy smile.

He’d forgotten. He didn’t care
enough to remember last night.

Don’t be so hypersensitive.
He’d been asleep. Sound asleep
in a strange place. Of course he wouldn’t remember where he was or what had happened
right away.

Her cell rang again.

“Why does someone have to call at
the worst times?” she murmured.

“Might be something about the
fire.”

She grimaced—he was conscious of
responsibility when she least wanted to be reminded—but answered anyway.

Fran’s voice glided out, sultry
as drifting smoke. “Good morning, gorgeous. I hoped I’d catch you before you
left. Did you see me on TV last night?”

Did the man never drop his
seductive charm?

“Fran.” She snuggled back against
Rennie. His expression revealed nothing but drowsy interest. “I did see you
last night. You were wonderful. You did a great job. You actually seemed pretty
intelligent. Did you have a script?”

“No script. All me.” Fran’s
chuckle, so like Rennie’s, sounded. “And thank you, thank you. All flattery
accepted. I thought it went pretty well, too. Listen, I got Dani to wangle us
some passes to the High Museum today.”

“Passes?” She sat up.
Where
the jewelry is. The actual jewelry.
“For the exhibit?”

“Yep. Laney and Norma are taking
late lunches and Paul may come over, too. With John, of course. I hoped you
could join us. About two?”

“Two? Sounds good.” She looked at
Rennie, laid a hand on his chest when she saw the slight downward curving of
his inner eyebrows that hinted he was tired. Or displeased. Or maybe not quite
awake. “How about Rennie? Got enough tickets for him?”

“Rennie?” Fran’s surprise came
through the cell, underscored by an instant of silence. “Sure. Is he—did you
have plans with Rennie for today?”

“He’s going with me to talk to
the fire investigators.”

“Fire investigators?”

“I guess you haven’t heard.”

Strangely, losing her studio and
possessions didn’t seem so devastating this morning. Maybe it was the night
spent in Rennie’s arms.

She filled Fran in about the fire
and listened to his shocked commiseration, saying when he paused, “Yes, well,
anyway I’m going over to talk with the investigator on the case this morning
and I have no idea how long it’ll take. I’d think we should be through by two. If
we aren’t at your office by then, we’ll meet you at the High Museum. How about
that?”

Fran hesitated. “Great.” His
voice deepened. “Rennie isn’t coming on to you, is he, Autumn? I noticed in Helen
that he was being kind of pushy.”

“You’re the one who comes on,
Fran.” She still wasn’t sure enough of Rennie’s intentions to advertise their
new standing. Not to Fran, anyway. “To me and every other female around. Your
brother is, and always has been, a perfect gentleman. Unlike some people who
beg a cup of coffee after taking me to dinner and end up chasing me around the
sofa.”

Rennie tensed, and she smothered
a laugh. When he opened his mouth, she put a hand over it.

Fran was saying quite enough in
her ear.

“Yes, I’m well aware I’m so sexy
you can’t keep your hands off me.”

Rennie gave a rueful shake of his
head, amazed.

“And I know you’re wild to get me
in bed. I’m sure it would be lovely for both of us, but face it, Fran. I’m too
timid and you’re way too experienced for a shrinking violet like me. You’re
better off finding somebody with no sexual hang-ups.”

“I’ve got a surefire way to cure
hang-ups,” Fran said, “but it involves active participation on your part. If
you’ll—”

“I’ve got to go, Fran. We’ll meet
you. Either your office at two or the High Museum later. Okay?”

“Okay. But—”

She turned off her cell.

He lifted both brows. “You have
sexual hang-ups?”

“Sure.” She put her arms around
his neck. “I don’t seem to be able to make it with anyone but you.”

That brought on a new round of
nuzzling and whispered sweet nothings until she came up for air. “You don’t
mind us going to the exhibit with Fran, do you?”

That would give her a good chance
to look at the necklace and compare it to the one Sarita had worn.

“Going to the exhibit or
listening to you bait my poor little brother?”

“Going to the exhibit. And I wasn’t
baiting Fran. I’ve told him and told him I wouldn’t go to bed with him.”

“Why not?” His voice was husky.

She searched for his eyes. “Don’t
you know? How often do I have to throw myself at you?”

He pulled her down beside him. His
lips were soft. The heat rose, diffusing the most responsive parts of her body.

“You can throw yourself at me as
often as you like.” He was the one to come up for air this time. “We can take
this week off and go to Athens later.”

“We can?” She laid her face
against his shoulder, put her lips against his chest and bit his nipples
gently. One and then the other. “Do I get to go with you?”

“Unless you intend to live in
Atlanta while I’m in Athens.”

Her tongue stopped tormenting his
budded nipple. “Do you want me in Athens?”

He shifted restlessly. “I had
hoped you’d come with me. Yes, I know I’m taking a lot for granted, but you
told me you loved me, Autumn. That meant something, didn’t it?”

“You know it did.”

Why did he look so unhappy? “Then
sooner or later, we’ll have to move on to the next step, won’t we?”

Pressing his stomach with her
fingers, she nipped his taut nipple. Did he mean what he was implying, or was
it simply his morning-after conscience prodding him to hint at something more? She
wanted him but not enough to force him into something against his will or
halfheartedly. “I’m enjoying this step. I think we should drag it out.”

With long lazy motions, she
circled his navel, stroked the hairs beneath, stopped short.

His breath caught. He took her
hand and moved it down. “I’m enjoying it, too. There. See?”

“Then what’s the problem?” The
touch of his arousal started excitement sparkling all over again.

She would never get enough of
him. Never.

He rasped, “With me in Athens and
you in Atlanta, it may be hard to keep in step. Distance does that to people.”

He was remembering Jane. Her
ardor faltered. This comparison of her to Jane and Jane’s choice of career over
him meant he was afraid she would make the same choice as Jane.

Maybe she shouldn’t be so honest
with him. Maybe she should be a little stand-offish.

No. Caution had never got her
anywhere. Not until she became reckless enough to risk rejection had Rennie
noticed her. Not until she’d turned completely wanton—her face heated as she
remembered her blunt confessions, her boldness—did he admit he cared.

“Rennie.” She rolled over and sat
up on her knees beside him. “Don’t you know by now that I’ll be as close to you
as you’ll let me? I’ll go wherever you are, stay wherever you stay, for as long
as you want me. I have no shame, no pride. Not where you’re concerned.”

The graveness overlaying his
features softened. “I wouldn’t let you throw your career away for me.”

As Jane had refused to do,
floated unsaid.

“I’m not throwing anything away. Athens
isn’t that far, and besides, one town is as good as another. The studio’s
reputation pulls clients from all over the state. But if I do decide to throw
it away, it’s my decision, isn’t it? I might like doing watercolors better than
erotic photography.”

He looked unconvinced.

She shook her head before he
could speak, caressed his unruly curls. “Rennie, you are everything to me. Please
believe me, darling, you are.”

The sweet fool.

She’d give up her studio,
cameras, negatives, reputation, everything.

So long as Rennie loved her.

Chapter 16

Later that morning, after
dragging herself out of bed with Rennie and taking care of the demanding
Squeaky, Autumn called Iris. No answer on the cell, but her receptionist’s home
phone rang only twice before Iris answered, breathless. “I was walking out the
door, headed for work. Is something wrong?”

Iris had spent the weekend with
her daughter in Birmingham and knew nothing of the fire. The initial shock was
followed by concern for her own welfare.

Autumn soothed her. “Of course I’ll
need you, Iris. I don’t know where we’ll be, but I’ll find a place as soon as I
can.”

Even if she lived in Athens with Rennie,
she could take appointments here. She’d look for offices on the east side, show
up two or three days a week. This might work out very well for Iris since the
area she lived in lay on the Athens side of Atlanta. “Once we find a place, it
won’t take us long to set things back up.”