For the Love of Nick

He’d turned out…spectacular. No other word need apply.

Not that she was noticing. God, no. Her head had been turned by an interesting face before and look at where that had landed her. No more men in her life, thank you very much, especially men who could melt earwax at fifty paces. She had other, pressing concerns.

Such as being on the run from the law.

Details.

But she was so engrossed in those details, and the fact that Nick quite possibly had the best set of buns she’d ever seen, that she didn’t realize he’d stopped in front of an open studio until she plowed into him.

“Oops.” Her hands automatically lifted to brace herself, setting down on his back. Snatching back her hands, she thrust them behind her. He’d been warm and rock-hard. “Sorry.”

He didn’t seem bothered in the least, the opposite actually, as he turned and gave her another smile.

“So…” She nearly stuttered. “What’s first?”

“You bring in—” He gestured to the leash she held.

Sadie. Who stuck her head around Danielle’s legs, looking as if she’d rather face ten Teds than be here. “Woof,” the dog offered cautiously; a loud, low sound of nerves as she shifted back and forth on her massive paws.

Danielle coaxed her into the studio with a biscuit from her pocket while Nick moved in ahead of them to set up.

“Look,” she whispered, squatting before the uneasy dog. “Do this for me. Do this for our future.” She cupped Sadie’s huge jowls and looked deep into her worried eyes. “Please?”

Sadie leaned close and licked her chin, and Danielle hugged her tight. “I know. You love me. I love you, too,” she promised softly. “It’ll be okay.”

“What will?” asked Nick, who’d come up behind her.

3

“DANIELLE? What will be okay?”

Meeting Nick’s steely, curious gaze, Danielle unwrapped her arms from around Sadie and stood. “The pictures,” she said as smoothly as she could. “The pictures will be okay.”

“Uh-huh.” Nick studied her for another long moment, in that deeply personal, intense way he had, the one that told her he wasn’t missing a thing.

Neither was she. She might have known this man when he’d been a boy, but that had been a very long time ago. She knew nothing about him now, and had no reason to trust him, even if she wanted to.

His eyes stayed on hers. “You need a backdrop. Outdoorsy or traditional?” Pulling down several, he gestured to her choices. “Personally, the traditional makes any subject look wan, but the outdoorsy one is fairly cheesy, so…” He lifted a broad shoulder. “I’m not a professional. Just pick the one that appeals.”

He wasn’t a professional. So who are you? she wanted to ask, but that would be getting to know him, that would be opening herself up, and she wouldn’t do that. “You’re not thrilled about doing this.”

“I said I would.”

His tone suggested he would always do what he said. But she knew that wasn’t the case. People lied. People changed. People couldn’t be trusted. She drew a deep breath. “The cheesy outdoorsy backdrop, please.”

A small smile crossed his face as he pulled down the screen of a wooded clearing surrounded by pine trees, wild grass and a little creek. Definitely on the cheesy side.

But that smile…holy smokes, it should be registered as an illegal weapon. She watched his hands on the backdrop as he pulled it into place, mesmerized by the flex of the muscles in his forearms, by the easy, economical movement of his body as he straightened and looked at her.

“Warned you,” he said, mistaking her unblinking stare for shock over the backdrop. “How do you want the dog?”

“Uh…” Danielle shook her head to clear it and concentrated on Sadie, who was looking at her with suspicious concern. “Standing at an angle to the camera to show off her coloring.”

“Coloring?”

“Most of her breed is a solid shade of red or fawn. But Sadie’s dark stripes are what the original English breeders had in mind when they crossed a mastiff with a bulldog. I’d like to show that off.”

“Got it.” He put his eye to the lens, fiddled with the camera. “So…what do you do these days?”

“I handle dogs.”

He pulled back from the camera to look at her. “You mean for other people?”

“Yes.”

“Are they all like that?” He gestured to Sadie, who was currently eyeing her tail as if she wanted to chase it.

“Bullmastiffs? Mostly.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She looked at Sadie, wondering how anyone could not see her innate charm. “Well…They’re big. I love big dogs. And they’re short-coated, with unmussable fur. It makes it easy to get them ready for the ring. See her inherent facial makeup, with her black mask and kohl-like eye shadow?” She cupped Sadie’s big face and kissed her nose. “Adorable, guaranteed. But also, there’s no extra grooming required. She shows au naturel. The only tool I need is a towel for the drool.”

“You mean a bucket,” he noted, watching as two long lines of it came out of Sadie’s mouth, puddling on the carpet.

Getting down on all fours next to Sadie, Danielle wiped the drool away and physically maneuvered the dog’s paws where she needed them, getting the front two in place before crawling around the back, only to have Sadie sit. She then leaned into Danielle and licked her face.

Nick laughed.

Danielle ignored both the contagious sound of that good humor, how it made her tummy flutter, and tried again. Leaning forward, she shifted Sadie back into place. “There. Stay. Oh, perfect! Nick, quick.”

Nick ducked behind the camera. Danielle, still on her hands and knees, quickly backed out of the way.

And…Sadie lay down.

Straightening from behind the camera, Nick shot Danielle a raised eyebrow.

Which she ignored. “You’re not helping,” she whispered to Sadie, crawling forward so that she could look at Sadie nose-to-nose. “Now let’s try that again—”

Behind her came a funny sound.

Whirling, she found Nick standing next to the tripod. Staring at her. Staring specifically at the butt she’d obliviously thrust into the air.

Oh good God. Face hot, she lowered her bottom to her heels. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Best pose I’ve seen all day.”

Her gaze locked on to his and refused to be freed. More than her face felt warm now, her entire body ignited. Her skin seemed pulled too tight, and her nipples poked at her blouse. Feeling betrayed by her own body, she turned to Sadie, careful to be far more modest this time as she once again coaxed the dog into the right position.

Sadie held that position until exactly the second Nick reached for the flash, when she promptly walked right off the set and sat down at Danielle’s feet.

Nick cocked his hip and studied Sadie. “Is she really some sort of champion?”

“She is.” Danielle sighed when Sadie yawned again. “You’re boring her.”

“Maybe I should dance and sing.”

“Just keep trying.” Desperation was clawing at her. Could she get the shots developed right here and now? Or would he give her the film so she could try another lab?

It had to be one option or the other, as she had to go from here straight to Donald Wutherspoon, in the hopes he’d get work for Sadie.

And income for her.

If not, then she had to get another job, quick. She was qualified, and after ten years, quite reputable as a handler. People knew and trusted her with their animals and she’d made a decent living at showing champion dogs. But stealing a dog, even for a really good reason, would ruin her. Not to mention the fact that Ted would likely look for her at any local show, or even within all of Rhode Island, which just wasn’t big enough for her to disappear.

Danielle couldn’t let Sadie be taken back. If she could only earn enough cash to disappear, then she’d go far, far away and start over, doing whatever she had to in order to make a living to support the two of them.

“Hey.” Nick suddenly appeared in front of her, cupping her jaw in his hand, looking deep into her eyes, making her realize he’d called her name several times. “What’s really going on here?”

His fingers were on her skin, electrifying her. “What do you mean?”

“You’re jumpy and nervous.” His eyes were so deep, so tuned on her, she had to swallow, hard.

“Maybe I’m always nervous around strangers.”

“We’re not strangers.”

No. No, they weren’t. “Well, then maybe I’m nervous seeing you again.”

“When you rarely gave me the time of day?” He let out a rough laugh. “Doubtful.” His thumb stroked her jaw. “So tell me. What’s really up?”

With no idea what she was going to say, Danielle opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Sadie nosed her way in between the two of them and bared her teeth at Nick.

Nick lifted his hand off Danielle. “A watchdog, are you?”

Danielle stroked a hand down the ruffled hair at Sadie’s thick neck. “She won’t bite.”

Nick eyed the dog warily. “If you say so.” But he didn’t touch Danielle again.

Shouldn’t have touched her in the first place because now he had the incredibly soft, satiny feel of her flesh implanted on his brain.

“If you’d pet her, maybe smile at her, she’d probably relax,” Danielle suggested.

“If I pet you, smile at you, will you relax?”

Her eyes widened for a moment on his before she looked away. “You’re playing with me.”

“I don’t play with people’s feelings.”

Her huge eyes met his. “Do you still hate me?”

“Hate you?”

“You know, from high school.”

He stared at her for a moment, then laughed, but she didn’t so much as smile, so his own slowly faded. “Danielle, back then, hating you was just about the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Even after…that night?”

“Especially after that night.”

When her misty eyes blinked in surprise, he nodded wryly. “Yeah. Big-time crush.”

“I had no idea.”

“No kidding.”

She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I hate to think about those days, about the kids I hung with, and how mean they were—”

“It was a long time ago.” He backed away from her, annoyed that he’d brought any of it up. Annoyed that he’d still occasionally wondered about her. “Like I said, I don’t think about those days anymore.”

She glanced down at Sadie, that vulnerability and infinite sadness back in her gaze. “Yeah.”

Just looking at her again made him feel like that stupid, gawky teenager he thought he’d left behind years ago. Had left behind years ago. He was a successful, respected journalist. He had a life, a great one.

He didn’t need this. He nodded toward Sadie, suddenly eager to see them leave, eager to get back to his carefully unplanned leisure time, where he didn’t have to think or feel. “Let’s just get your pictures, okay?”

“Yeah.” Danielle tried to pull Sadie before the outdoor screen. Sadie didn’t want to go. Digging her paws in, jaw stubborn, she held back.

But apparently Danielle was just as stubborn because she pulled and pulled with all her might. “You’re…going…to pose,” she grunted.

Fascinated and amused in spite of himself, Nick watched. Danielle’s brow was furrowed, her hair in her eyes. Her face, tight with concentration, slowly turned as red as it had when she’d realized she’d shoved her very nicely curved bottom in his face.

Filled with determination, she did indeed eventually budge the dog, and he had to admire the strength in her willowy frame for doing so.

“You…could…help,” she rasped, getting Sadie on the right spot, tossing him an irritated look that only made his grin wider.

“Why? You’re doing great.” The dog had to weigh over a hundred pounds. No way was he going to push it around and risk losing a finger or more. He was fond of his fingers. And fond, he discovered, of watching Danielle sweat.

He wondered what else would make her sweat and grunt like that. Wondered if she liked down-and-dirty sex, if she—

Whoa. Back the truck up. He was not having those thoughts, not about this woman.

“Okay,” Danielle said breathlessly, straightening. “Get ready, Nick.” She stroked the dog, soothed her, kissed her nose, even rubbed her cheek against Sadie’s.

Nick watched this honest display of affection and felt something tug inside, good and hard. Damn it.

“Take the picture,” Danielle said. “Quick.”

Nick moved behind the camera, watching through the lens as Danielle praised and hugged Sadie, with little disregard for the dog hair sticking to her clothing, for the drool that dripped down one arm, for her own wildly rioting hair, or the way she once again presented him with her delectable backside.

“Ready?” she tossed over her shoulder.

“Ready,” Nick said, eyes glued to her body as she quickly moved out of range.

When the camera shutter closed, she sagged back against the wall in relief, closing her eyes, breathing deeply.

Mesmerized by the emotions crossing her fine features, Nick moved from behind the camera and came to stand before her. “It’s just a picture.”

Her eyes flew open. “When can I have them?”

“In about three weeks.”

“How about I pay you for the film? You can just give me the roll and I’ll get them developed myself.”

“That’s not the way Providence Photography works,” he said, absorbing her growing panic. “Danielle—”

The bell above the front door of the studio chimed. Danielle jerked to face him. “I thought you said you were closed.”

“We are.” Nick groaned at the thought of taking more pictures. Because bad as a dog was, it could get worse, far worse.

He could have to take a baby picture.

“Nick.” Danielle gripped his shirt when he turned to go out front. “I need to tell you—”

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.” But short of prying her fingers from him, he couldn’t budge her. Then he saw her face, which had gone colorless. “Hey.” Concern replaced everything else, and without thinking, he stroked her hair from her face, touching her cheek. “What is it?”

“If it’s the police—”

“The police?” He went very still. “Why would it be the police?”

“If it is,” she repeated, swallowing hard. “I—”

“Hello?” called a male voice from out front. “Sergeant Anderson. Anyone here?”

4

“OH MY GOD.” Danielle slapped a hand over her mouth. Her blood pounded in her ears as her heart dropped to her toes.

Sensing her distress, Sadie butted her big head into Danielle’s stomach, knocking her back a few feet. She dropped to her knees and hugged the dog close. “Shh,” she begged, pressing Sadie’s broad face against her chest. “They won’t take you back, I won’t let them.”

The promise was genuine, though she had no idea how to keep it. Above her, Nick swore under his breath, and she spared a second to feel incredibly stupid for getting into this situation. How had they found her?

And what would Nick do now? Turn her in?

Of course he would, anyone in his right mind would. He had no idea what was happening or what she’d done. No ties as distant as theirs were would warrant him getting in trouble with the law for her.

“I’ll be right out,” he called out to the waiting sergeant. He stared down at Danielle. “I’m in the darkroom, just give me another second.”

Then he dropped down beside her, forcing her chin up. Odd, but his long, warm fingers on her throat were the most comforting thing she’d felt in a very long time. So was the way he looked at her, as if he was deeply concerned. As if she mattered.

His body was close, so close she could have moved a fraction of an inch and let him support her. Tempting. God, so tempting.

But that would be weak, and one thing Danielle refused to be was weak.

Nick brushed up against her. He put his mouth to her ear, eliciting a shiver at the feel of his breath fluttering her hair. “I take it you’re in some deep shit?”

He smelled good, pure male, she thought inanely. His hair curled over his ear so that her breath disturbed the strands. He felt warm and solid, and she wanted to press closer.

Why was she noticing such things at a time like this?

“Danielle?”

“You…might say that I’m in a tad bit of trouble,” she whispered.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story.” She didn’t want to tell him how pathetic she’d been to have had her entire life taken away from her. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to call out and announce her presence. Any self-respecting citizen would.

“Did you hurt anyone?”

Her eyes flew open. “No!”

“Commit murder?”

“God, no!”

“Okay.” He put his mouth to her ear again. “Whatever they think you did do, are you innocent?”

This time his lips touched the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, and another shiver wracked her frame. A shiver he must have taken for fear because he ran a hand down her arm.

“No,” she managed, blinking up at him because he wasn’t betraying her. Why wasn’t he betraying her? “I’m not innocent. But I only did it to protect—”

“Hello?” the officer called out again, sounding unmistakably annoyed.

“Coming!” Nick looked at her for another long heartbeat before closing his eyes briefly, muttering something about being a damn, sentimental fool. “Where did you park your car?”

“It’s not mine, it’s my friend’s. Down the street and around the corner. There wasn’t any free parking out front and I didn’t have change—”

“Thank God for small favors. Get in the closet. Sadie, too.” He opened it, put those hands of his on her hips to guide her in.

“Wait.” She resisted his hands when she really wanted to close her eyes and whimper at the feel of them on her. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I do fine in that area all on my own, thanks. Now get in.”

“I don’t need your help, Nick.”

“I hate to argue, but it would appear you do. Again.”

Yeah. Again. God, that burned. Especially when her pride was all she had left. For a moment, she almost wished he was a perfect stranger, that they had nothing in their past to give them this odd, inexplicable connection she didn’t understand and didn’t want. “I can do this myself.”

“How? By running out the back door and hoping they don’t hear you? Get in,” he urged, pushing her in the closet. Leaning in after her, he squinted into the dark. “You okay in here for a few?”

That he would take the time to ask nearly broke her. But she gathered up every last dollop of inner strength she had and nodded as if she did this every day.

Nick turned to Sadie. “You too, dog.” Apparently unwilling to push the dog in, he waited to be obeyed.

Drooling, Sadie studied the wall.

“Get in,” he repeated, cautiously reaching out with his foot to gently shoo her in.

Sadie leapt as if he’d tried to kill her.

Nick looked as startled as the dog. “Hey, just get in the damn closet.”

“Here,” Danielle said quickly, pulling Sadie in herself, letting out an oomph as the nervous dog sat her considerable weight in Danielle’s lap.

“Don’t make any noise,” Nick commanded in a hushed tone. And then he was gone.

Danielle sat there in the dark with her one-hundred-fifty-pound baby. In her life she’d been in some pretty tight and uncomfortable situations, but this…this definitely took the cake. “We’ll be okay,” she said softly.

Sadie turned in her lap, nearly breaking her legs in the process, pressing her warm, wet nose into Danielle’s neck. Four paws shifted up and down in nervous excitement, wondering when the games began.

“This isn’t fun time,” Danielle whispered. “Shh, now.”

But Sadie was convinced it was a game, and got herself all wound up, which meant more drooling, more rustling, more frantic maneuvers on Danielle’s part to calm down the young dog. “I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Sadie’s bulky neck. “I know, I know. You want to play, but hang on.”

Her legs were killing her, strained with the weight of the heavy, overgrown puppy, but there was little room to shift in the loaded closet. Still, she managed to lay back, scooting over to give Sadie enough room so that she could get off her lap.

Marginally better. She had no idea what she was stretched out over, but it was actually quite comfortable, soft and pliable, and she relaxed slightly.

Finally getting the message that it was quiet time, Sadie cuddled up beside her.

It was so dark. She could hear Nick’s voice, could hear the policeman’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. A wide yawn escaped her. She had hardly slept in days, and she felt it now, in every ache of her body, in her fuzzy—and quickly getting fuzzier—thoughts.

Don’t fall asleep, she told herself, though Sadie already had. Her deep, steady snores mocked Danielle’s exhaustion.

Counting didn’t help. Neither did thinking of the mess her life had become.

Nick. She’d think of Nick. He had a smile on him, a smile that went all the way to his eyes. Ted hadn’t smiled like that, as if he really meant it.

Why had she never noticed that before?

Nick had a voice on him, too, she was listening to it now as he talked to the officer. In her not-too-distant past, she might have fallen for a voice and a smile like his, but not now. Falling meant trusting, and she just didn’t have it in her to do that, not ever again.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered to her sleeping dog. Somehow it would, and she curled up and closed her eyes.

SERGEANT ANDERSON EYED the photo studio reception area, his sharp eyes missing nothing, but thankfully, there was nothing to see.

Not out here anyway, Nick thought.

“You’re certain you don’t have anyone scheduled for today?” the officer asked yet again.

“As I mentioned, we’re closed,” Nick answered. “My sisters run the place, and they’re on vacation for several weeks yet.”

“You’re not a photographer?”

“I’m a journalist.”

“What if someone calls you, wants to book an appointment?”

“I’ll book it.”

Sergeant Anderson narrowed his eyes and watched him very carefully. “But you won’t be opening for business?”

Danielle, what have you done? “Have you ever tried getting good pictures of a baby? Or a high school grad student?” He shuddered. “Nightmare waiting to happen.”

Anderson slowly nodded, his gaze taking another slow tour of the place. “Yeah, I have one of those grad students. She’s into makeup, boys, looking at herself in the mirror, and more boys.”

“Exactly.”

“So anyone wanting their picture taken is going to get turned away?”

Nick didn’t look at the south wall, where at this very moment, on the other side, sat Danielle and her damn dog. If either of them made a noise, or so much as sneezed, they were all in very big trouble.

What the hell had gotten into him when he’d shoved her in there and had offered to help? Had he lost his mind?

Yes, he admitted. One look into her lovely but vulnerable eyes and he had indeed lost brain cells at an alarming rate.

And now, though it made no sense, he offered his first lie. “Turned away flat. So what’s this about, anyway?”

Anderson took one last look around. “I’m looking for a woman who’s going to want a professional photograph of a dog she’s stolen. There’s only two photograph studios in the immediate area, so…” He headed toward the door.

Nick walked him there, hoping that would be the end of it, but of course, nothing was ever simple.

Anderson had one last thing to say. “If a woman named Danielle Douglass comes in with a dog, here’s my card. Call me.”

Nick took the card, controlling his dread. “What will happen to her?”

“We’ll worry about that.”

After he’d shut the door, Nick leaned back against it and drew in a deep breath. At heart, he was a journalist. He hunted out stories and told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

There was a story here, a big one, only he didn’t know the half of it.

He would though. He definitely would. Pushing away from the wall, he moved down the hallway, into the studio and opened the closet door.