I shook my arms and legs as though I were flinging off water, but mostly was just trying to toss aside the negative tragedy that plagued my every waking minute. “Just get a good shot.”
“With you, Addison, I’m not sure there are any bad shots. Though I think with a little time and focus, we could find magic together.” His voice had a warm, comforting tone, laced with a hint of innuendo.
My cheeks heated and I quirked my head and smirked.
Click.
He took another candid shot, glanced at the viewing screen on his camera, and smiled. “Incredible,” he whispered.
For the next half hour, I focused on nothing but the man behind the lens. Flirting without really trying to flirt, but it was almost impossible not to with such a mysterious, hunky guy staring me down with his chocolatey gaze and perfect-looking, kissable lips.
Just as I bent over into a seductive blowing-a-kiss pose, there was a commotion by the entrance to the large open space. I glanced over to see a flurry of uniformed officers along with my sister Simone’s boyfriend, Jonah Fontaine, flashing his FBI badge and storming over to where I was.
He pulled me into his arms and locked them around me so tight, his face going straight into my hair. “Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay,” he breathed, fear and now relief coating his tone.
I patted his back and looked over my shoulder at Blessing. Ryan Russell, Jonah’s partner in the FBI, was whispering to her. Her eyes widened to an unnaturally large size and she nodded.
“Excuse me. What’s going on here?” Killian approached us while Jonah continued holding me.
He pulled back, put his hands to my shoulders, and then his gaze scanned my barely dressed body. “Shit, Addy. I’m sorry.” Jonah’s voice was rough, deep and sounded embarrassed.
Blessing found that moment to dash over to us with my robe in hand. “Here.” She thrust the item at me.
Killian took the robe. “Allow me.” He opened it, and I put my arms through it quickly and tied it at the waist.
“Thanks,” I murmured, but he hadn’t moved away. In fact, he stepped closer and put his hands onto my shoulders from behind in a rather affectionate gesture that was so far from acceptable I would normally have shrugged him off and nailed him for touching me. Something inside me however appreciated the warmth imprinting from his palms into my shoulders, soothing me in an uncertain situation. Instead of addressing his handsy approach, I focused my attention on Jonah.
“Is Simone okay? Mama Kerri?” I hurriedly asked.
“What’s going on? Why are the FBI and police at our photoshoot?” Killian interrupted, nothing but concern in his tone.
Jonah frowned and took in the possessive hold Killian had on my shoulders. “Who’s this guy?”
That’s when Killian moved around me and held out his hand. “Killian Fitzpatrick, but my friends call me ‘Fitz.’ I’m the photographer.”
Once more Jonah narrowed his gaze, as though trying to assess the hunky photographer’s motives. Regardless, he shook his head then circled the conversation back to me. “We need to put you into custody. Get the family back together. There’s been, uh, a development in the Backseat Strangler case, and I’m sorry to say, honey, it’s not good.”
I gasped and stepped back. My entire body went on autopilot, shaking uncontrollably. Killian watched me like a hawk with that assessing photographer’s eye and likely knew the very instant fear had taken over my ability to speak, or even function. I started to shake and my limbs turned to Jell-O. I was about to fall to my knees when Killian wrapped his arm around me and brought his face close to my own.
“You’re safe. Whatever happened, right now, you’re safe. Just breathe, yeah?” He stared into my eyes and I focused on watching the color in his pretty brown eyes darken while he audibly breathed. Naturally I aligned my breathing to match his until the woozy, loose-limbed feeling dissipated and the shakes stopped altogether. “Better?” he asked.
I nodded as Blessing came over to us, her gaze astute as she pulled me into her arms. “You okay, baby girl?”
I glanced at Killian, wishing I was still in his hold but still feeling safe surrounded by my sister. “What do you mean there’s been a development?” I asked Jonah.
“A woman was murdered. Not only did she resemble you, but she also had one of your magazine pictures crumpled up and clenched in her hand. There were burns up and down her inner forearms much