Double Exposure

He didn’t look disappointed, just bone tired. He nodded. “That makes sense. Good for them.”

Once he started toward the passenger side of the car, she walked around to the driver’s side. “I’ll take you to the inn, and you can just relax there for the evening. No need to get together with any of the family tonight. I think they all planned to go to an outdoor concert, anyway.”

“Relaxing in a cozy inn sounds perfect.”

Kate had already stashed her purse behind the seat and was ready to climb in when she saw a Great Dane sitting at the wheel of a Land Rover parked nearby. The dog looked for all the world as if it could simply turn the key and drive away. The window was down, probably because the owner knew nobody would try to steal the SUV with a huge dog in the front seat.

She had to have the shot. “Can you give me a second?” she asked Harry as she unzipped her purse and pulled out the camera.

“Sure, but—”

“I’ll be right back.” She walked over within range and snapped off a couple of frames. Then she moved to a different angle, shading her lens with her hand. Oh, this was terrific. She talked to the dog, who seemed to be posing for her by putting one hand on the wheel. She stepped closer. This was so wild, so totally—

The blare of the SUV’s horn nearly made her drop the camera as she leaped backward. The darned dog must have slipped and put his paw on the horn. “Don’t do that!” she said to the dog as she edged away, glancing around to see if anybody had noticed.

The dog continued to press the horn. As Kate backed toward her Miata, she began to suspect the dog was trained to honk the horn if anybody came too close. “Okay! I’m leaving!” she called to the dog. “Cut that out!”

Shoving her camera back in her purse, she jumped into the car.

Harry was laughing his head off.

“We’re so outta here,” she muttered, starting the car. “Who trains their dog to honk horns, anyway? Doesn’t anybody use good old car alarms anymore?”

“Guess not,” he said, grinning at her. “So, you’re a photographer, like Kim?”

“Yep.” She backed out and drove toward the exit.

“Freelance?”

“Technically I’m a studio photographer, like Kim. I handle the glamour shots and she’s into kids and pets.”

“What do you mean, technically?”

She hesitated, realizing she’d slipped up by qualifying her statement. When their dad had retired and left his two daughters in charge of the portrait studio he’d built into a fine business, they’d both been thrilled and honored. Kate was still thrilled and honored, except…except she wasn’t having fun with the glamour shots anymore. Been there, done that. Taking the picture of the Great Dane, even with the horn-honking added in, had been fun.

“I guess I meant that’s my main thing,” she said. “But, I’ve started taking candid pictures for the heck of it.”

“Where things aren’t quite so predictable?”

“Right. But studio photography’s rewarding, too. Very rewarding.”

“I’m sure it is.”

She had the oddest feeling that he understood her inner conflict perfectly, yet they barely knew each other. Intrigued by the thought, she glanced over at him. Damn, he was really shoe-horned into her car.

“Is the seat all the way back?” she asked.

He reached for the adjustment. “Uh-huh.”

“Sorry the car’s so small.” She’d been so intent on driving her zippy little convertible on this warm June day that she hadn’t stopped to think about how uncomfortable the car might be for a man who was at least six-three. Kim would have thought of that. Kim wasn’t so focused on pizzazz, which was why she liked family photography so much.

“Kate, after what I’ve been through, it’s minor.”

“I’ll get you to the inn as quick as I can.” While they waited in a line of cars to get past the ticket booth, she switched off the radio. He might like to sleep on the way to Newport, if he could possibly sleep crammed into the seat like that.

As they reached the booth, Harry lifted up slightly from the seat and took his wallet from his hip pocket. “Let me get the parking fee.”

“Absolutely not! It’s bad enough that I was late picking you up.” But in fumbling behind her seat for her purse, she nudged against his very solid body and discovered the close proximity made her breathless, and as uncoordinated as she’d ever been in her life. She should have taken the money out before she’d started the car. Kim would have done that.

The parking attendant cleared her throat.

While Kate was still twisted around digging in her purse for her wallet, Harry reached across her and handed a bill to the attendant.

“Thank you, sir.” The attendant gave him his change.

Kate abandoned the struggle for her wallet and glanced over at him. “Thank you for paying, but you’re making me feel extremely guilty. Let me buy you a drink sometime this weekend.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

She pulled away from the booth and slid the car smoothly into traffic, which was a small blessing. As jittery as she was feeling, she didn’t trust her reaction time. The best man had quite a smile on him. Kim and Stuart had said he was a really nice guy. They hadn’t said one word about him being a lady-killer.

That could be explained, of course. Stuart might not say something like that anyway, being a guy, and Kim was so crazy about Stuart she was likely oblivious to every other man on the planet. Still, Kate would have appreciated a warning from someone. The snapshot she’d carried to ID him didn’t begin to capture his animal magnetism.

A more trained photographer—like her, for example—would have nailed it. She’d love to have a chance to try, but she doubted there’d be any time for a formal sitting. Still, she’d become pretty good at getting shots on the fly.

He leaned back, his neck supported by the headrest. “The sun feels great. Sure beats the heck out of swimming through cold water for six hours.”

Kate did a mental double take. “Why were you doing that?”

“I had to pull six people out of a partially submerged sailboat. It took most of the night.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s…incredible.” It was more than incredible. Not only had he spent the night rescuing people from a shipwreck, he spoke about it as if it were all in a day’s work. A chill ran down her spine. Had she finally found her hero?

“At least it went well. But the helicopter kept getting too low and churning up the water even worse, which made everything tougher. But hey, it’s over. And I made it to Stuart and Kim’s wedding, after all.”

“I’m sure they’re going to really, really appreciate that.” A certified hero was going to be the best man at Kim’s wedding. Hours ago he’d risked his life to save six people, and now he was riding in her car and would be spending the next four days in Providence. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she knew one thing for sure. She planned to make the most of this opportunity.

“I’m glad I could come,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to close my eyes and relax for a little while. I tried to sleep on the plane, but my seat-mate kept trying to have a conversation.”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse.” Kate was so glad she’d turned off the radio. Taking her foot off the gas, she allowed the car to ease back within the speed limit. She’d drive all the way to Newport in the right lane, letting cars whiz past her. No way was she taking a chance on jostling such precious cargo. “Just rest,” she said to her hero. “I’ll let you know when we get there.”

HUGH ARMSTRONG closed his eyes and gave thanks for this little bit of heaven—riding under a warm sun while sitting next to the prettiest redhead he’d seen in quite a while. Since he was surrounded by glamour every day, that was saying something.

Maybe part of Kate’s appeal was that she wasn’t in the business. She wasn’t trying to parlay her beauty into a starring role, so she could afford to be more casual about her traffic-stopping looks. Or maybe he’d been swept away by the animation on her face and she wasn’t all that gorgeous.

Opening his eyes a fraction, he studied her again. Yeah, she was one-hundred-ten-percent babe. Probably used sunscreen to protect that flawless complexion, especially if she made a habit of driving with the top down. These days he couldn’t tell if a woman’s hair color was real, but in this case he’d guess that it was. She’d adopted the short, breezy style that was so popular, and she had just enough curl to turn those locks into tongues of flame whipped by the wind.

A white knit T-shirt, cropped at the waist, fit like a second skin. Hugh happened to love that look for obvious girl-watching reasons. Her hip-hugger jeans showed off a slice of midriff that made his mouth water. She wore open-toed mules. He couldn’t see them now that her feet were tucked under the dash, but he remembered that her toenails matched her fingernails—both painted a wicked shade of red.