Exposure - Kelly Moran Page 0,100

from his earlier work. She couldn't put her finger on what. She looked at the other photos on the table. His agent had also sent over two previous shoots.

In one, a woman with cocoa skin and huge brown eyes gaily ran along a deserted beach. The sand was littered with debris, the housing in the background crumbling to shambles. Yet she had a wide, infectious smile and wore nothing but a colorful sarong. A couple other shots showed her leaning against one of the graffiti laden walls or kneeling next to refuse. As intended, the ugliness of the backdrop was muted by the cheery woman offering hope among chaos.

Picking up the other shots, her gaze took in a woman with tats from neck to toe. Her blonde hair was short, spiking at odd angles, and the tips dyed pink. One of her legs was amputated above the knee and the only thing she wore was military dog tags around her neck. She was laying in a field of dandelions, arms widespread and eyes haunted by her past.

"He's good, isn't he?"

Raven turned to Max behind her and then back to the photos. "He sure is. No one captures contrast, light, or color like him. He can turn anything into beauty." Such raw, amazing talent. A direct path into the soul.

With one finger, Max pushed the photos around the table, the muscles of his forearm flexing, until he got to the one of her supposedly asleep. "That's my favorite."

She faced him, this big bear of a man who'd put himself in front of a bullet for her, and tilted her head. Max had been Noah's quiet protector since before he'd met Raven. He probably knew things about Noah that no one else did. He didn't talk much, but when he did, it typically knocked her back a step.

Studying the photo again, she bit her lip in thought. "Why's that?"

His gaze never left the table. "I've been with him at nearly every shoot, sometimes in locations at the corner of the world, and with hundreds of models." He tapped the photo again. "That's the first time he ever saw the woman and not the shot."

Yeah. Forget knocking her back a step. He'd knocked her on her ass.

Later that evening, Raven sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her cell. Since Noah had left town, he'd had Max staying in the guest room, just in case, but the company did little for her loneliness. And Noah hadn't called. Not once. He'd sent a few texts updating her on his location and to check in, but damn it, she missed his voice. Missed him.

Swallowing hard, she connected and waited as the other line rang.

Just as it was about to go to voicemail, Noah answered with a curt, "Everything okay?"

"Yes. I just?? She sighed. "I wanted to hear your voice."

He paused. "Did something happen?"

"No, no," she assured. "How's the shoot going? What's your model like?" She stilled. Did that make her sound like a crazy girlfriend?

"Fine. I'm at the ruins now. We're doing a night session I wanted to attempt."

He didn't answer the question about the model. Rubbing her forehead, she glanced at the ceiling. "I didn't mean to disturb you. But while you're on the line, I saw the photos for the exhibit. They look great. It was worth freezing my butt off." She laughed nervously. Really, Raven? Nervous with Noah?

He took so long to respond she checked to make sure they hadn't been disconnected. Finally, he answered in a low, rough voice. "I should be back on Friday."

"But your show is Friday night."

"I'll be back in time. See you then."

She opened her mouth to say she missed him, but he'd hung up. No, I love you, Miss you, or anything resembling affection. Even before they were lovers, he'd been warm and endearing in their friendship. What had changed? Why was he suddenly so distant?

Tears burned her eyes. Had he concluded she was a hopeless cause after all?

She froze as realization struck. He was going to leave her. He was going to leave her because she wasn't what he needed. The pain in her chest expanded, cracking ribs.

Laying sideways on the bed, she thought about the conversation with her mom at lunch. After learning weeks ago about how her parents had died, with her father right beside her, she'd been able to rationalize her fear of intimacy and make love in the missionary position. It had merely taken her knowing what the