CHAPTER 12

Darius took her hand again, her skin smooth and warm as he brought her over to the frame. Had she figured out that while he was teasing her, he was working himself up, too? He enjoyed her wide blue eyes, the puffs of breath that signaled her arousal—or anger—and the way she bit her lip without even being aware of it. “We need you in the picture to show proportion,” he explained. “And you, too, Zion.” Zion needed no further prodding to jump into the photo. Darius didn’t always require human subjects, but he wanted them. This was a joint project. Plus, he had a major desire to see Nathalie on camera. 





“Act like a model showing off the car,” he directed, watching her on the digital screen. He thought she might be shy, but she surprised him by throwing her hands out, cocking her hip, and pointing one toe on the concrete in a ballet pose. Her hair swirled around her shoulders, and her pink lipstick glistened. An ache grew low in his gut, and he swallowed hard. Watching her was addictive. Beside her, Zion was a surprising ham, striking one ridiculous pose after another, and Darius wondered when the last time had been that he’d had fun like this. Finally, Nathalie stepped out of the camera frame and held out her palm. 





“Okay, give it to me. We need some of you and Zion, since you two are building this thing.” He relinquished the camera, but not before making sure his hand lingered on hers. She met his gaze, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “Stop being bad.” “You have no idea how bad I can be,” he said in a soft voice. And he couldn’t wait to show her. He caught the way her eyes flared with heat right before she rolled them, and then she gestured for him to move toward Zion and the metal frame. He’d raised it off the floor with four jack stands, to which he’d added small pieces of cloth so they didn’t scratch the frame’s paint. He’d enjoyed their reaction. When the crate arrived yesterday, he’d considered the best presentation.





In the end, he’d uncrated it, used the suspension crane to place it on the jack stands, and covered it with the tarp so he could whisk it aside to reveal the masterpiece. The effect was perfect. Even Nathalie had been impressed. He put his arm around the boy, and felt damn near fatherly, something he’d never even thought of before. After Nathalie took a dozen or so shots, Zion said, “Now we need you and Nathalie.” He obviously didn’t want to be left out of the picture-taking. “You two don’t need me in more pictures,” Nathalie objected again. “Come on, Nathalie,” Zion begged. Of course she gave in to her brother, pointing to the button he should push to take the photo. And of course Darius wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to pull her in front of him and set his hands on her hips until she was nestled back against him. 





The scent of her hair tantalized him. The heat of her body against his started the mercury rising in his thermometer. She was just the right height, and he was in just the right position, to snake an arm around her stomach and pull her tight against him. She tipped her head back to whisper, “What are you doing?” “Taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to hold you close.” Meanwhile, Zion had his tongue stuck between his teeth and was busy centering the camera, moving a step one way, then the other, angling, holding his arms straight out, then pulling them in slowly. Darius didn’t think he’d even pushed the button yet. His heart was beating hard. Could she sense the faster rhythm between her shoulder blades? Did she know the effect she had on him? Holding her in his arms was so damn good that he closed his eyes, breathed her in, and let his fantasies spin out...until a voice blew his fantasies to hell. “If I’d known you were doing a photo shoot, I’d have brought Keira.” 





Ares Lowells stood in the open barn door. Nathalie immediately jumped away from Darius, and Zion started, fumbling the camera. Darius saw it tumble to the floor, with no way to reach out before it landed with a crack. For one long moment, everyone stared. Then Zion began to splutter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, Darius. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to.” The boy’s face had crumpled, and his eyes were tearing up. Nathalie leaped to him, bending to retrieve the camera. “It wasn’t your fault, Zion. I should have put the strap over your head.” She looked at the crack in the view screen and grimaced at Darius. “We’ll replace it.” “It’s just a cheap model,” Darius said as he crossed to her side. An image of his shoes filled the viewfinder, and the crack was a short diagonal line across the upper right corner. “Don’t make me go home, Darius. I’m sorry. 





I won’t touch anything else. Promise.” Zion crossed his heart. Darius put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and made sure he was looking straight into his eyes as he said, “It’s okay, Zion. It was an accident.” A tear slid down Zion’s cheek, and Darius felt a rip in his heart. How many times had the kid been punished for accidents that weren’t his fault? Never by Nathalie, he knew, but it was a cruel world out there, with little tolerance for people who didn’t measure up. And Darius should know, since he hadn’t always been tolerant, hadn’t always been kind. And others had paid the price. Nathalie took the camera, switched it to display mode, then clicked on the last photo to show it to Zion and Nathalie. Her brother had captured a shot with Darius arm locked across Nathalie waist, her hand over his as if she were holding him there. It hinted at an intimacy he craved to make real. 





But this moment was about Zion, so Darius told him, “See, it still works.” Beside him, Nathalie sighed with relief. He gave her the camera as Zion whispered, “You’re not mad?” “Of course I’m not mad. We’re buddies. Buddies don’t get mad at stupid stuff.” Which brought him back to Ares, who was still standing in the open barn door. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.” His friend raised his palms in surrender, a manila envelope in his right hand. “I didn’t mean to surprise everyone.” 





They’d been friends since the sixth grade, when they’d first become the Baddricks. Ares had been a fifth grader, along with Hector, while Perseus, Argus, and Darius were a year older. Ares' brains were huge, and as a kid, people had called him a nerd. Though with his broad, muscular frame, he now looked more like a professional athlete rather than the financial wizard behind the Baddricks. Ares gave Zion a lopsided grin. “Sorry I scared you. I’m Ares Lowells.” “Hi.” Zion’s voice was overly loud in the barn. “I’m Zion.” Ares switched the envelope to his left hand and shook Zion’s. Then he swiveled his gaze to Nathalie, clear male appreciation lighting his eyes. “And you are?” “Nathalie Adler.” She put her hand out, too, and shook his. “Zion's my brother.” Darius didn’t like seeing Ares’ hand curve around Nathalie’s. Not because he thought Ares was going to try to swoop in and claim her, given that his friend had a wife to whom he was one hundred percent faithful. No, it was simply that Darius wasn’t ready to share Nathalie yet, not even with his friends, who would be full of raised eyebrows and silent questions, just like Ares was right now.