Chapter 15

A week later, with an Elements exhibit starting in twenty minutes, Raven turned away from the door in her office and sat on the edge of her desk, listening to her mother blubber about a recent breakup. She cradled the phone in one hand and plucked dead blooms from her potted plant with the other.

When there was a pause, Raven said, "I thought you were seeing someone named Daniel."

Her mom sniffed. "Oh no. Daniel was weeks ago. I thought things with Richard were going so well."

They always did, until a few weeks passed and Willow Crowne fell head over heels. Surprise, surprise, it ended shortly after that. Raven had had this conversation so many times, but it still pained her that her mom was hurting. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too." She blew her nose. Loudly. "Enough about me. How are you? Are you seeing anyone? Why are you calling me on a Friday night?"

Her mother liked Noah, but the two of them were a temporary thing, so no sense in telling her because it would only get her hopes up. They agreed to a month, and only one more week was left of their time. Her stomach churned. She ignored it. "Just checking in. I have a showing starting in a few minutes. But, since we're on the phone, I need to ask you something."

Weariness weighed on her shoulders. Between Noah exhausting her after work and a sudden rash of new nightmares, sleep was not a commodity. Ever since he'd brought up her childhood, she started remembering little tidbits. Google searches only brought up things she knew.

"Anything, honey."

Raven rubbed her forehead. "Where was I found after the Lambs of Christ raid? I keep having strange flashes and can't piece it together."

Her mother was silent, which should've warned her something ugly was coming. Her mother made talk show hosts look like mutes. "Honey, I-" She sighed. "When the shooting started, you and some of the other kids were locked inside one of the bunkers. Some of the leaders were there hiding out, along with your parents, planning an escape. The ATF kicked down the door and shots were fired from Lambs leaders. The authorities responded. You-"

Her fingernails dug into her palms. "What, Mom?"

She sniffed. "Your father pushed you to the ground and told you to crawl under the bed. He died right next to you. The agents didn't know you were there until a little while later. You hadn't moved. They thought you were dead, but it was just shock."

Just shock. As in her limbs freezing and inability to breathe. Her first panic attack had come before she'd moved to Alaska.

Making excuses, she hung up and stared out the window, trembling from hairline to toenails. All these years she'd thought she was a freak. Turned out, she was traumatized. The claustrophobia, the panic during sex while horizontal, made sense. Noah was right. She could handle any position but missionary. And she couldn't even remember the incident, yet it had forged a dark path for her all these years.

Feet shuffled behind her. Noah. She'd grown accustomed to his sounds, his scent, and his touch in their few weeks together. She could make him out from a thousand others while blindfolded. She wanted to go home, where he could bury himself deep inside her willing body and push this new knowledge from her mind. With him, she forgot to be afraid.

His gaze scanned the gallery below before he cupped her cheek. "What is it? You're pale, baby."

She couldn't do this now. She had a showing. Forcing a smile, she met his worried gaze. "Nothing. My mother. We just hung up."

"You sure? Your mother doesn't typically make you shake, not in fear anyway." One corner of his mouth curved.

She nodded. "I'll tell you the rest later. I'm fine."

His jaw tensed and he looked over her shoulder at the gallery as if to make sure no one was watching. His hand dropped from her face. "I want to fuck you on this desk one day. Thought about it every time I visited you at work. It'll have to wait, though. Your guests are arriving."

Heat replaced the cold. Her cheeks flamed. She suspected he said as much to scrap the edges of panic he must've seen, but now she'd have to go through the entire night with her sex aching. Turnabout was fair play.

"Noah, ask me what I'm wearing under this dress."

His gaze shot to hers and narrowed. His thigh brushed hers, sending sparks of need to her core. "What are you wearing under that dress, baby?" he asked in a rough, tight tone that skittered along her nerve endings.

"Not a thing. I'm commando."

"You're-" He ran his fingers through his wavy, blond hair. "Fuck, Raven."

Because he kept darting his gaze between her dress and her eyes, sucking in a breath when she'd told him what she wasn't wearing, she screwed with him a little. "Those were my sentiments. Figured going commando would make access easier. This is one of your favorite dresses on me, too, right? Does it drive you nuts that I'm commando?"

"Stop saying commando. I'm about to make us the gallery's focus by turning you into an exhibitionist."

She threw her head back and laughed. God. Zero to happy in ten seconds. Only Noah could do that for her.

Sliding off the desk, she wove around him. "I promise not to say the word commando anymore tonight, or remind you that I'm commando under my dress."

He closed his eyes and shoved his hands in the pockets of his expensive charcoal-colored suit. Tailor made for him, he looked attractive and like the wealthy man he was while wearing it. She wanted to peel it from him slowly, licking his exposed flesh along the way.

She stopped in the doorway. "Are you coming?"

"Not at the moment, but I'll rectify that later."

Unable to help it, she grinned. "Death by innuendo. Hell of a way to go."

He unclenched his jaw. "Go. I'll be down soon, when other parts get the memo and I'm presentable."

No way could she pass that one up. "You'll be down soon and I'm commando. Falling into my plan perfectly."

He growled her name and she left. Damn. She couldn't wait for tonight.

Hours, too many hours later, the showing was a success. Raven leaned against the wall and sipped her champagne as the last of the stragglers lingered. She knew exhibiting Wesley Freemont's work would pay off when he strode into her office six months ago. A good-looking black man, he was oddly charming with people for an artist. His underwater stills were incomparable. The public thought so as well. They'd sold out of every print.

Nicole ventured over and leaned on the wall next to her. She clinked her champagne flute to Raven's. "Here's to a successful exhibit. Where do you want to go for drinks afterward?"

It had become tradition for her and Nicole to have a celebratory cocktail after a showing. She'd forgotten. Glancing at Noah, she bit her lip. He was talking to Wesley, the artist of the night, so of no help to her. Much as she loved Nicole, she had been waiting all night to get Noah alone. And naked.

"I knew it." Nicole straightened. "I knew it. You're sleeping with Noah."

Raven glanced around, but thankfully no one was looking at them. "Do I have it tattooed on my forehead?"

Nicole flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. "No, but he's been watching you all night like you're a forbidden dessert, and you haven't moved about the room without checking his position. When did this happen?"

Raven hadn't realized they'd been that obvious. "A few weeks ago. Friends with benefits, so not permanent."

"Why? I mean, you've been besties since college. After all this time, it seems kind of-romantic. I've wondered why you two didn't hook up sooner."

Raven took a sip of champagne to cool her dry throat. Romance was not their style or their intention. He'd wanted her, now he had her. It was two people colliding for sexual release. Those were the terms. Except the deadline in one week loomed closer every minute, and the thought of walking away left a hole in her chest. He'd opened her to a whole new part of herself she didn't know existed, but could she let down her guard with other lovers? Did she even want to?

"It's just sex," she rasped, staring into her glass. Why in the hell did that feel like a lie?

"Bet it's damn hot." Nicole sighed and slumped on the wall, her tone playfully sad. "I always hoped he'd look my way someday and take me. Now that he's been with you, I stand no chance."

Nicole had a crush on Noah, but Raven knew it was attraction more than actual feelings. Not for the first time, she thought about Nicole and Noah together. She was his typical flirt, both in personality and appearance. "What makes you say that?"

Nicole took a sip and swallowed, scanning the room. "I'm the girl next door. You're the wet fantasy." She shrugged. "Just the way it is. Some guys go for my type and most go for yours."

Pondering, Raven stared at her shoes. She wasn't a take-home-to-meet-the-parents woman. The idea of forever had never gelled in her mind or her heart. To be with one man every night, to leave herself exposed and blindly offer the kind of trust it entailed was never a road she wanted to start down. Without conscious effort, her gaze found Noah's from across the room. Her pulse throbbed, her blood rushing through her veins with breakneck speed. The heat and tenderness in his eyes left her dizzy.

Breaking the connection, she discovered everyone had left and Nicole was locking up. How long had she been standing there? She pressed a palm to her forehead and, God help her, her gaze was drawn to him again. He hadn't moved from the center of the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets and gaze steadily on her. The air pulsed between them.

Nicole walked over and took the champagne flute from her fingers, downing the contents. "I'll take a rain check on the drink. Looks like you have other plans." She swatted Raven's ass and headed for the door. "I expect details on Monday."