Exposed to Passion (Five Senses series Book 3)

by Gemma Brocato

  “Sure do. Sounds like I’m an overachiever, doesn’t it? I prefer to stay busy.” He twisted at the waist and sucked in a huge breath, his shoulders lifting and falling again when he expelled it forcefully. After pulling his shirt from his waistband, he swiped over his face and chest, then tucked it under the elastic in his shorts. He gestured toward the path he’d just run. “Are you heading back?”

  Rikki nodded. “I’d better, otherwise I’ll be heading into marathon territory and I really don’t have time to go there this morning.”

  “Wanna run back together?”

  “Your legs are a lot longer than mine. I won’t be able to keep up. Promise not to run too fast and you’ve got a deal.”

  Sam’s gaze shifted south, his eyes roving over her bare legs before returning to her face. He propped his hands on his hips, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “They look just right to me.”

  His expression assured her he wasn’t thinking about running. Her own thoughts went immediately to how her legs were the right length to wrap easily around his waist. The throbbing ache she’d managed to run off pulsed to life again.

  She startled when he lifted one finger to her chin and gently pushed her mouth closed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been such a confused mass of need. For someone she’d just met, no less. Her fantasies of him had started when he’d pulled her out of the creek by her breasts and kept getting steamier.

  “So, do you want to run? Or…” His voice, laced with suggestion, trailed away.

  “Um…huh, run? Yeah, sure.” She huffed an exasperated breath in and started jogging away from him, setting the pace for the run back through the park. His laughter rang in the quiet morning air, and it wasn’t long until his feet slapped the pavement behind her.

  He caught up and settled into an easy lope, resuming their conversation. “Hey, I forgot to ask last night. Did you find out anything about the photo club’s application to the Sims Foundation?”

  “I talked to Jenni, the administrative assistant. She said nothing had come through.”

  “That’s bull. I know I submitted it.” Frustration tinged the tone of his exclamation. His anger pushed him to a faster pace, and Rikki increased hers to keep up.

  “I’m sure you did. Unfortunately, it’s lost.” Rikki struggled for breath and continued. “Jenni talked to the programmer and they think…they’ve isolated the issue. It’s going to take a couple of days to fix. But, you’re going to…have to apply again. Jesus, can we slow it down a bit?”

  “Crap, I’m sorry.” Sam said and decreased his speed. “Better?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Her breath eased with the slower pace. “I had a printed application to give you yesterday, but I guess I got distracted by the layout changes.”

  The amused glance he shot her all but shouted those changes weren’t the only thing that had sidetracked her. A satisfied pure-male smile lit his face. She rolled her eyes then directed her attention back to the path. Sam stepped off the path into the grass to make room for another runner, who grunted a greeting as he passed heading the opposite direction.

  “Can I print one off from the website and get it to you later?” he asked.

  “I was going to suggest that. I’ll personally walk it through to Jenni to make sure it gets considered.”

  “Can Jenni get it to Marguerite? She has to approve it, right? Do you have any influence on her decision?”

  She’d forgotten to let Sam in on her secret that she was Marguerite. She dragged in a lungful of air and let it wheeze out while she sought a way to drop the bomb.

  “About that—”

  “Although, if she doesn’t have the final say, I’d hate to interrupt her shopping pleasure with anything business related. There are parties to attend and shoes to buy.”

  His intense dislike of her—no, of Marguerite—was annoying. Every time she had tried to tell him who she was, he bitched about the woman she really was. Still, that doesn’t excuse his negative comments about the woman he thought was her boss.

  “She isn’t like that, Sam. She’s just…very busy and out of the office a lot.” Her tone was defensive.

  He barked out a short breath that sounded like a disgusted laugh. “Doing what? Sitting by the pool in a tropical location? Hitting the spa?”

  Dammit. She should just tell him. Spit it out and make him stop talking trash about her. If only it were that easy. Frankly, the idea terrified her. “Sam, everyone at the foundation works hard, but no one works harder than Marguerite.”

  “Obviously not by returning phone calls. My kids deserve better. Hell, I deserve better. At the very least, a little professional courtesy.” He snorted derisively. “I don’t know her, but my first impression is going to be tough to overcome. We’ll have to agree to disagree about her.”

  Rikki waved her hand, not a clear indication of whether she was okay with that, but an acknowledgement of his opinion.

  “Does she have the final say?”

  “Not really. Grand—um, Silas has to approve every grant.” She’d better be careful when talking about her grandfather. She’d almost slipped and this wasn’t the time to tell him.

  Rikki panted, trying to focus on her answer and her breathing. Struggling with their pace and their conversation, fear kept her from gritting out that she was Marguerite. “But it has to go through the proper channels.”

  “Shit, I had hoped for an easy alternative.”

  They crested a short hill and turned onto the street leading out of the park. They’d eased into a comfortable rhythm, pacing each other.

  Rikki found herself enjoying the company on her morning ritual. “Hey, speaking of taking the easy way out…I have to hire an exhibit intern for the duration of the exhibit. Part of the foundation’s…educational program.” She sucked in a deep breath and continued. “I was going to talk to a local employment agency, but I got to thinking about your photography club. Can you recommend someone who might be willing to work for minimum wage, but gets to be in the presence of great art?”

  “Yeah, a couple of kids come to mind. What do they need to do?”

  “I need someone to help with set-up, take care of minimal correspondence…keep my schedule straight, that kind of thing. I don’t need…a rocket scientist, but I have to have someone detail oriented.” She panted, fighting the burn in her muscles from oxygen deprivation. “Oh, and I need someone who can be in the museum with the exhibit on weekdays in the late afternoon.”

  “Will they have to know about Silas’s work?”

  “I can teach them everything they need to know. Got anyone in mind?”

  Damn him. His breathing remained steady and easy, each stride confidently placed. By comparison, she was a mess: fighting for every breath, hair stuck to her face, sweat dripping down her back. And worse, her ridiculous boobs bobbed up and down with each step, despite the restrictive running singlet.

  “I have a few kids I think would fill the bill. Why don’t you join the club for our field trip Friday night? We’re heading up to the Assabet River Wildlife Refuge. I promised the club we’d try astrophotography. Ten kids signed up, which means I need another chaperone. What do you think? It would give you a chance to get to know some of them.”

  They’d turned into a residential section of town, nearing Rikki’s rental house. The pounding of their feet and Rikki’s labored breathing echoed on the quiet street.

  “Can we stop now?” she begged. “I’m beat.”

  Sam slowed their pace to a brisk walk, for which Rikki was grateful. She didn’t usually run with a partner and carrying on a conversation had been taxing. They neared the street where she lived and she turned right to head home. Sam put his hand on her arm to check her stride. The warmth of it seared her skin.

  “I’m going on another mile. Can I sign you up for the field trip?”

  Hmm, spend an evening in a remote wilderness with this charming, magnetic man? And ten teenagers? “Against my better judgment, I’ll say yes.”


  “Great! Okay, what do I do now? About Marguerite. How can I get the princess to rubber stamp my application?”

  God, she hated it when he called her that. It was derogatory. Just like when Aron dumped her. “Princess” couldn’t be further from the truth. Even if he didn’t know who she really was, the label stung. Suddenly, Friday night’s trip to the wilderness didn’t seem like such a great idea after all. Too late to back out now. She shook off her irritation over Sam’s words.

  “Fill out a paper copy and get it to me. I’ll take care of the rest. But only if you promise to apologize to Marguerite once she approves it.”

  “Will I have to do it in a mall?”

  “Sam—”

  “Okay. You’re right. That isn’t nice.” He grinned at her.

  The little divots in his cheeks loomed larger than the Grand Canyon, easing her anger and hurt over his opinion of the head of the foundation.

  She lifted the bottom edge of her running jacket to swipe the sweat away. When she lowered it, she caught him staring at her chest with lust-filled eyes. Losing herself in the depth of them, she almost lost track of where they were. The picture in her mind had them twined together under silk sheets, not standing on a street corner.

  The blaring of a car horn jerked her back to the present. Sam raised his hand, acknowledging the driver. Thankfully, she’d had time to collect her scattered thoughts and focus on the here and now.

  “Get the paperwork to me whenever you can. I’ll make sure it gets the attention it needs.”

  Now, if only she could get the attention she needed.

  Chapter 7

  Rikki sat at her desk attempting to edit some of the photos she’d taken on Sims Spit before she fell into the creek. But the tingles accompanying the memory of Sam’s warm hands on her breasts were too distracting. Unable to focus, she switched to answering emails on foundation business. Only the memory of his heated lips last night distracted her again. The way the sensual ache she’d managed to tame on the first half of her run had churned back to life when he ran up to her in the park this morning.

  Every task she worked on throughout the day brought thoughts of Sam’s sexy dimples and beautiful masculine form. She’d even resorted to physical labor—cleaning the kitchen, starting laundry, and unpacking the contents of the moving boxes. While she tidied, she found the jacket she’d borrowed from Sam the day they met and buried her face in it. His sandalwood and sage scent filled her senses, which circled her thoughts around to the man himself. Again.

  This is ridiculous, Rikki. The man is monopolizing your time and he isn’t even here. Desperate to ease the insistent, titillating thoughts, she wandered into her kitchen for a diet soda. Discovering she’d emptied the last can earlier, she made a list for a quick run to the grocery store.

  Cruising through the market, she searched for the items on her list. Loud, snarky laughter rang out from the produce section as she headed that direction. She rounded the end of the aisle to discover one of the students from the photography club, Suzannah, the girl who’d drowned her camera, looming over a smaller kid, who appeared frozen in place near the apples. The careless teen and a friend of hers, along with a woman who was old enough to be a mother, but dressed more like a teen, seemed to be harassing the poor girl. Dammit, their victim was Katie Germaine, another member of Sam’s photo club.

  “Jesus, Katie-simo! Does the itty-bitty, teensy klutz need, like, help, to reach the tippy-top? I bet it’s tough for someone as scrawny as you.” Suzannah juggled a bright red-and-yellow apple between her hands and looked speculatively between the fruit and Katie’s chest. A sneer curled on Suzannah’s lips. “Jeez, Katie-simo, this apple is bigger than your boobs. No wonder boys don’t see you. Doesn’t look like there’s anything to appreciate.”

  When Katie didn’t react to the snide abuse, Suzannah’s friend and the grown-up giggled. The derisive sound grated Rikki. Suzannah and the other girl high-fived each other while the adult continued to snicker, barely biting back laughter.

  The idea of a grown-ass woman participating in this kind of behavior lit a slow burning fuse in Rikki. She wanted to grab a large can of peaches off the nearby display and chuck it at the adult. A clearer mind and the fear of arrest prevailed, and she tucked the instinct away. Instead, she gripped her cart and pushed it toward Katie, where she stood cringing, darting glances around, as though looking for an escape route. Maneuvering behind Katie, Rikki loudly snapped open a plastic bag and began selecting fruit she didn’t want or need.

  Uncomfortable silence reigned while Rikki made her choices, acting like she hadn’t just broken apart a bona-fide incident of bullying. Katie remained rooted to the spot. Tension coiled like a snake in Rikki’s chest. She made eye contact with the victim.

  “Hey, it’s Katie, right?” She put the produce in her cart. “I met you at the beach the other day, when you were taking pictures of the jetty. I’m Rikki Salerno, a friend of Mr. Kerrigan. Do you remember me?”

  Katie jumped and nodded hesitantly, squeezing her arms around her middle, huddling into a smaller, less noticeable target.

  Rikki’s shoulders ached with sympathy for the girl. Turning her glance toward Suzannah and her cohorts, she allowed a tight smile to curve her lips. “Oh, you were there, too, weren’t you? Was your camera ruined by the dunking you took?”

  “Yeah, but I needed a better one, anyway. My dad bought me a newer one to replace it.” The teen smirked and shot a sidelong glance toward Katie, opening her mouth to say something else to the girl.

  Rikki cut off her potentially snarky comment by shoving her cart protectively in front of Katie and extending a hand toward the supposed adult of the trio. The woman wore a black shirt so sheer the red, lacy brassiere underneath was visible. Skinny painted-on jeans, two sizes too small, created the camel-toe from hell. A fedora capped off the entire ensemble. Rikki shuddered.

  “Hi, I’m Rikki Salerno.”

  “Sherry Hillman. You seem to know Suzannah.” Sherry released Rikki’s hand after a half-hearted squeeze that reflected as poorly on her personality as her condoning of the younger girls’ bullying behavior. Sherry waved toward the other girl. “This is my daughter, Alyson. She and Suz are BFFs.”

  “Are you in the photography club with Katie and Suzannah, too?”

  Alyson’s ponytail bobbed when she shook her head. “I don’t have time. I have a tough class schedule and I’m a cheerleader.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I’m helping Mr. Kerrigan with a field trip this weekend. I’m looking forward to getting to know the kids in the club.”

  “Uh…you are?” Incredulity colored Sherry’s question with a stormy black tone.

  Propping a hand on her hip, Rikki’s thin jacket stretched tautly against her breasts, outlining them for the world to see. Suzannah’s eyes widened and Sherry glued her gaze to the view.

  “Yes. He knows I’m familiar with cameras and photography and asked me to help. I’m looking forward to getting to know him, too.”

  “But he doesn’t da—” Sherry’s brow furrowed. “I mean…do you know Sam, um, Mr. Kerrigan, well?”

  This woman obviously fancied Sam. Hmm, how did the phrase go? Turn about is fair play? Unable to resist, Rikki leaned forward and inclined her head. “Just between us girls? Not as well as I’d like to. But he’s working on fixing that.” For good measure, Rikki let her tongue sneak out to the corner of mouth and curled her lips into a dreamy smile.

  Sherry squinted her eyes and pursed her mouth. She was angry.

  Katie finally spoke, her eyes glittering behind the lenses of her glasses. “You’re going on the astrophotography trip? That’s fantastic. I’m really looking—”

  Suzannah snapped her fingers at the girl, like she was an unruly dog. “Katie, shut it. You need to learn when to turn off your annoying babbles.”

  Katie’s chin sank to her chest and Rikki’s ire revved up a notch. She looked toward Sherry and found the older woman eyeing her like Rikki was something she’d sc
raped off the bottom of her shoe. That’s it. Time to end this delightful little meet and greet.

  “Katie, can you wait for me? I have a question for you. It was so…nice to meet you, Mrs. Hillman.” She nodded at the girls flanking Sherry, took Katie’s shoulder, and turned her in the opposite direction. “Can you walk with me a second?”

  They hadn’t gone five steps when Rikki heard a distinctive lowing sound behind her. And damned if it didn’t sound like Sherry’s voice, accompanied by the vicious laughter teens were capable of. It wasn’t the first time in her life Rikki had been the target of mooing based on the size of her breasts, but it did mark the first time an adult had done it. Apparently, Sherry wasn’t all that grown up.

  Rikki paused, drawing a deep breath, and turned back to the small group still clustered together by the apple cart. She struggled to keep anger out of her voice and the sneer off her face. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  The raw guilt on Sherry’s face bore out Rikki’s assumption that Sherry was the source of the juvenile jab. Caught ya, you stupid twit.

  Sherry pasted an insincere smile on her lips and shook her head.

  Rikki shrugged, as if to communicate that Sherry’s opinion and ridiculous behavior didn’t matter, and escorted Katie to the opposite side of the store.

  “I’m sorry they made fun of you, Ms. Salerno.” Katie’s soft voice reached through Rikki’s annoyance. “I’m used to them poking at me, but they should have left you alone. You didn’t do anything to them.”

  “Katie, there is no excuse for what just happened. It doesn’t matter who’s on the receiving end, adult or teen. Nothing, I mean absolutely nothing, justifies bad manners or bullying.” Rikki softened her tone and continued, “Have you had to deal with the whole mean girl thing for a long time?”

  “It feels like forever. Since fifth grade. That’s about when the other girls started to develop. I’m still a twig compared to them. Sometimes, I wish…” Katie’s gaze skipped over Rikki’s chest and her words trailed away. Scarlet stained the girl’s face and she busied herself looking at the bakery products in front of her.