Exposed by Suzanne Ferrell Read Free Book Online Page B

bag?”
    “In the trunk.”
    She pressed her lips in a tight line and gave him her most you’re-pissing-me-off look. He arched a brow that said, you’re-not-winning-this-battle.
    “Humph.” She shrugged and stomped to the car, dragging her bags with her. “I’m only doing this because you’re holding my personal property hostage.”
    “Bags.”
    He held out his hand. With another narrow-eyed look, she dropped her travel bag onto it, and released her hold on the rolling suitcase. She shoved her purse onto her shoulder then climbed into the passenger seat.
    “Where to?” Marshal Castello asked, as he slid in behind the steering wheel a few minutes later. He’d deposited her other bags in the trunk with her cameras.
    “The Italian village,” she said, then focused her attention out the window at the darkening summer sky.
    He pulled out and headed east up Long Street. The area she lived in was just east of the restored Short North area, which lay just north of downtown Columbus. It was one of several neighborhoods that had gone under recent renovations and many young urbanites were moving into the area.
    “Where did you come from?” he asked, after they’d traveled a few miles and stopped at a red light.
    Well, there was this egg and sperm… Yeah, she doubted he’d appreciate that sarcastic comment.
    “I’m sorry?” she said just as vaguely as his question.
    “When you got out of the taxi earlier, you said you’d just come from the airport. Where did you fly in from?”
    Sydney bit the side of her mouth to keep from smiling. She’d forced the man to speak two complete, multi-word sentences in a row. “I was on a photo shoot for a new designer.”
    “Really?” Doubt rang in his voice.
    She turned to see him looking at her with that raised eyebrow again. “What makes you think I’m lying?”
    “You were wearing hiking boots.”
    The man not only remembered what she’d said, but what kind of shoes, er…boots, she’d had on? Normally, she’d be flattered that she’d gotten that much of a man’s attention, but she suspected it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. In his line of work, even the smallest detail could mean life or death.
    The light changed to green and he pulled out.
    “Not that I have to prove to you that I was telling the truth, but we were doing an outdoor shoot in the mountains of Vermont for the past five days.”
    “What kind of fashion shoot happens out in the woods?”
    “The kind where the newbie designer decides she wants the models dressed in silks and fine linen juxtaposed against the harshness of nature,” she said with as little snark as she could manage.
    “Your description or hers?” he asked, but she heard a hint of humor in the question this time.
    “Oh, definitely hers. I haven’t used the word juxtaposed since my last art class in college.”
    “You had to take art for a degree in photography?”
    “Photography is a form of art. My degree is in art and photography with a minor in business. And before you ask, yes, business. I knew I was going to be my own boss and run my own business when I chose to be an independent, so I figured I’d better learn how to keep my records, market my craft and keep from being dirt-poor the rest of my life.”
    “Smart woman.”
    The compliment was nice, but she couldn’t take all the credit.
    “I owe some of the credit for adding the business classes to my stepfather,” she said. “He ran a fortune five-hundred investment group for years, and sat me down for a serious heart-to-heart when I started college. I simply listened to what he said and signed up for some classes.”
    “Like I said. A smart woman.” He turned north onto Fourth Street. “What’s your street?”
    “Hamlett, just south of First.”
    “Those new townhouses built to blend in with the early nineteenth-century homes nearby?”
    She shifted her gaze to him, unable to hide both her pride and surprise. “You know the area?”
    “I’ve been