Secrets: The Complete Collection Read online

  “I can admit I was wrong,” I say turning toward him. “This is art. I see it now. You showed me something I didn’t think was possible and there’s no way in hell I can shoot this kind of stuff without submerging myself in it.

  “There’s a reason why Sottero wanted me, Cole. There’s a reason why I’m at the top of my class. I don’t do things half way. If I see something I want to do, I learn everything about it, and I’m taking you up on your offer. I’ll run the Long Island branch of Le Femme. I’ll shoot this kind of stuff, but you have to shoot me first. It’s nonnegotiable.”

  He blinks at me and shakes his head, “God, Anna. I—” He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. I know I’ve won. I know he’ll do it.

  CHAPTER 9

  We stay in his apartment for the night. I sleep rather restlessly in his guest room. The place smells like Cole. I can’t stop thinking about him, but I finally pass out not wanting to consider what I offered earlier in the evening. He lets me sleep late and I emerge from the shower around noon. We go into the Manhattan office and work until sunset, editing the remaining images from last week’s shoot.

  Neither of us says much. When we leave, he holds the door to his Porsche open and I slide in.

  I feel his eyes on the side of my face as we drive back to the new studio. Cole is silent. His fingers are wrapped around the steering wheel tightly. It’s like nothing happened last night, like he didn’t agree to do something completely sexy with me. I lean my head back and stare out the window. I don’t turn to look at him.

  It’s late by the time we hit the open stretch of highway back to the beach house. I wonder about him. I wonder who he really is, what he really sees. He does such a good job of hiding everything that I realize I have no clue. There’s a passionate side to Cole, but there’s something softer and more vulnerable, too.

  “What are you thinking?” he finally asks, glancing between me and the road.

  I shrug, like I’m not thinking anything, like I’m not obsessing about him and wondering about his past. “Just wondering about stuff,” I mutter the half-truth to cover the lie, then add, “Nothing really.”

  “You have that far off look in your eyes. I’ve been around you long enough to figure out what that means, so spill Lamore. What has your brain in a knot?” He smiles softly at me.

  I glance over at him wondering if I’m so transparent all the time, or if he just reads me better than others. I sigh and shake my head, “It’s none of my business, but I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see when I grabbed your bail money.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, and glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “It was a picture of you in an army uniform and a beat up Tiffany’s box. It looked like it’d been run over.” He says nothing and stares at the empty road, concentrating as if it were rush hour. I’m looking at my hands, running my thumb over the thumbnail on my other hand.

  My voice is soft, “You looked so young and afraid. And the ring, I guess there’s a heartbreaking story there?” His shoulders tense. Cole works his jaw and swallows hard as I finish speaking. I think he’s angry, but I can’t tell. I look at my hands and say, “I didn’t mean to look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  He doesn’t glance at me anymore. His eyes take on a vacant stare like he’s remembering something he wants to forget. “It’s fine. I’d forgotten it was in there. The rest of those pictures were burned.” He doesn’t acknowledge the Tiffany ring.

  Burned? There’s a story there, a part of him that I want to know. I can’t not ask. Carefully, I say, “Why’d you enlist? I mean, most families would have disowned a kid over something like that.”

  Now he glances at me. His eyes are cold as stone and I visibly flinch. “What makes you think mine didn’t?” His words are filled with scorn for someone else, but some of it drips onto me.

  I falter. My mouth hangs open. “But, you’re the only heir—” I sputter, shocked, not believing what he’s implying. A sole heir wouldn’t be disowned. That’s extraordinarily bad. I can’t even imagine what he’d done. Enlisting doesn’t seem big enough to warrant such a reaction, but as I look at him, I know I can’t ask. I seriously doubt my mother would have been disowned if there were no cousins, if there were no one else to claim my mother’s birthright.

  Hedging, he says, “You seem to know some things, for a girl who hates rich people so much.”

  I laugh, but there’s no joy in it, “Yeah, well, let’s just say life wasn’t kind to my parents. I saw things from the wrong side and it took its toll on me.” Suddenly I stop talking. That’s my darkest secret. It fills me with anger and shame to even bring it up—anger at my Grandmother for treating her daughter so cruelly, shame that I’m not more like my mom. She has backbone that I’ll never possess. I look out the window, but I still see Cole out of the corner of my eye, watching me.

  “I understand,” he says and glances at me again. “Things struck a little closer to home for me and it didn’t matter that I was the sole heir. I enlisted to prove a point. They disowned me prove a point.” He’s staring out the windshield. His voice is cold. He doesn’t look at me. Gripping the steering wheel of the Porsche, his knuckles turn white. I feel like I’ve picked open old wounds for both of us and desperately wish I could take it back. The pain in his eyes floods me and I want to take it away. That distant look, the feeling that he’s not good enough—that he’ll never be good enough—is plastered across his face.

  Turning, I stare at him with my jaw hanging open. There’s a word that’s lodged itself in my throat, something I was going to say—but I’ve forgotten what it was.

  It can’t be true. He couldn’t have been disinherited. Cole Stevens didn’t have his family’s millions? But, he’s said it all along—he made Le Femme, it was his blood, sweat, and tears.

  Oh my God. Staring, mouth still agape, I don’t know what to say. I want to tell him that I understand, but I don’t get it the way my mother does. I don’t know what it feels like to have everything one day and nothing the next. His parents blindsided him. They chose money over love. They rejected their only child.

  I finally say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Shrugging, he says, “It’s not your fault, so there’s no reason to apologize. And no one knows. It was part of our agreement.” He laughs and shakes his head like it’s some cruel joke. “I was allowed to keep my name—my fucking name—if I didn’t tell anyone that I’d lost my inheritance. Even that wasn’t mine. Anyway, it’s a long story, but the short version is that you should never piss off a Stevens’. They have long memories and will tear you apart when you least expect it.”

  The savageness in his voice startles me. “But,” I say softly, “you’re a Stevens.” You’re not like them. You can’t be, I think.

  His eyes are on the road, staring into the inky night. “I know.”

  CHAPTER 10

  When we arrive at the studio, I’m exhausted. I stumble out of the car and follow Cole inside. The other two people staying here are already asleep. Before Cole leaves me to find my room, he says, “That shoot will be first thing tomorrow. If you have body jewelry, wear it.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. Instead, he walks over to the front desk and picks up a pile of mail, and sifts through it. My heart hammers. I nod and silently walk off to my room with my heart in my throat.

  Sleep finally comes, but my dreams make me restless. I dream about Cole as a young man. I see the haunted expression in his eyes—the fact that he knows there is no such thing as forgiveness. He learned that lesson too well. There is no way he will ever forget.

  The dream fades to Edward. His eyes are a void of black. Bleeding twin trails of ink spill down his pale cheeks. He says, “You destroyed me.” He reaches for my throat, his fingers moving toward my eye with a black nail in his fist. I know that will make my eyes bleed black like his, that my heart will never heal. I know I’m dreaming, but I scream anyway.

  I wake, frightened, and trembling. The sun is barely over the hori
zon. I swing my legs over the side of my bed and rub my eyes. I breathe deeply trying to push away the nightmare.

  There’s a knock on my door. “Come in,” I say. When I look up, Cole is standing in the doorway. I’m wearing cotton shorts and a thin cami. They’re dorm pajamas, which means they’re guy safe. At least that’s what Emma and I used to say.

  Stubble lines his cheeks. A white tee shirt clings to his torso. Dark jeans hug his narrow hips, and he’s barefoot. Cole seems to have something against shoes. His eyes are red like he hasn’t slept. “You all right? I heard you scream.”

  “Yeah. Fine.” I don’t elaborate. I look up at him and push the rat’s nest that is my hair out of my face. “What time are we shooting? Tell me it’s not in fifteen minutes.” I’m only half joking. Cole’s a morning person. Apparently that’s still true even though he’s only had a few hours of sleep.

  He smiles, “No, not in fifteen.” He looks at his watch and back up at me. “Why don’t we try for nine? You can get a few more hours rest.”

  I laugh and push off the bed, shaking my head. “It’ll take me that long to get ready. And I have to tell you that I didn’t bring anything with me that might be even a little suitable for this shoot. Do you have props or something I could look at?”

  “No nudes, Miss Lamore?” he asks leaning against the door frame, and folds his arms over his chest. A dark brow rises on his face. His eyes lock on mine.

  My stomach flutters. A soft smile lines my lips and I shake my head, “I thought I should see what my options are. I hear lace photographs well,” I tease, knowing it will annoy him. Anything about wedding photography seems to get under his skin.

  “Damn wedding photographers and their lace,” he laughs softly. The sound is stunning. I wish he were like this all the time, but it’s the Cole that vanishes like smoke. I think that’s the real Cole, the one he hides from everyone at all cost. He pushes off the door frame, and shakes his head, “Come on. I’ll show you where the wardrobe is located. Use whatever you want. They literally finished the sets last night and installed the lights. We’ll christen the new studio and then get back to work.”

  _____

  An hour later Cole is gone and I’m still looking through boxes. I find some jeweled dangling earrings that I can use. They have a hook, but I grab some wire and wire cutters. I plan on modifying their intended use, slightly, if I have to. Other than that, I don’t see anything else.

  Regina walks in and flips on the lights, “Hey boss. Can I help you find something?”

  Quickly, I decide to tell her what we’re doing. It makes it seem less risqué, even though telling her about the shoot makes me blush.

  Regina is very professional. She doesn’t react. Instead she helps. She digs through a few boxes, showing me more necklaces and outfits from Le Femme.

  She hands me a panty and I press the thin lace between my fingers, “This is beautiful, but I wanted something different.”

  “How different?” she asks.

  I shrug at her and put the panties back. I laugh nervously and look at her. “I have no idea what I’m looking for. Or what I want. I just need it to be sultry, cover me a little bit, and be something that screams, Anna.” I shake my head. “None of this stuff seems to do all that.”

  Regina nods, listening. Grinning at me, she says, “I have something.” She looks over her shoulder like she’s doing something that she shouldn’t and reaches for a box on the top shelf. I look inside when she pulls it down. It’s filled with tiny crystals. Many are clear, like tiny diamonds, but some are vibrant colors. She pulls a paper from the plastic sleeve on the top of the box. “I got these thinking we could use them—to do this.”

  “What is it?” I ask and unfold the paper. My cheeks flush when I see it, but I can’t look away. My jaw drops.

  “Vajazzling. At least that’s what the article calls it.” She shrugs. “I guess you can do anything from pouring the crystals over your body, to applying them in a pattern.” She points at the paper to a woman bared from the waist down. The patch of hair between her legs is gone and in its place there is an intricate design of a butterfly. The sparkles disappear between her legs. “That one is really pretty,” she says pointing to the butterfly. “Of course, that only works if you already have a Brazilian.”

  I scan the paper, reading it. A smile creeps slowly across my face. As a matter of fact, I do. “This is perfect. Thanks Regina.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The moment I see Cole, my confidence fades. The box of crystals is in my hand and my stomach is twisting so violently that I nearly drop them. I feel hot and cold at the same time. My heart is pounding.

  Cole doesn’t notice. He strides toward me, lost in his own thoughts with his camera around his neck and a small light in his other hand. He places them on a table in the back of the shooting room. It still smells new, like paint and sawdust. Regina lit a candle to help ease the paint fumes from the room.

  I’m standing on the other side of the table with my box of crystals. When Cole looks up, I decide to can Regina’s original idea. I’m not that brave, and I wasn’t able to apply the jewels myself. There wasn’t enough time and I couldn’t see what I was doing. When his eyes slide up my body from the box to my face, I realize that I’m in over my head. I can’t do this. But I can’t back out.

  Cole says, “Nice bathrobe. Tell me we’re not shooting you in that?”

  I shake my head, and put the box on the table. My hands quiver slightly. Trying to hide it, I shove the box and it slides at him. “I thought we could pour these over me.” That seems like a tamer version of my original plan. I have no idea how wrong I am until we get started.

  He peeks in the box and his brow furrows. Looking up at me, I can see he doesn’t understand. “I’m not seeing it, Lamore. Walk me through it. What else are you wearing? Are these just accent pieces?” He dips his hand into the box and when he lifts it, crystals pour between his fingers.

  When I don’t answer, he looks up at me. My face is flushed. Cole shakes his head and smiles softly, looking down at the crystals. “How are you so shy? You’re twenty-two for Godsakes. How do you still blush like that?”

  His words make my cheeks flame hotter. My eyes grow wider as he speaks, and I can’t hide it. “Shut up, Stevens.” I smack his arm. He glances up at me from across the table, a boyish look on his face. I laugh, “My brain’s just wired wrong, okay? And you out of all people should have known that.”

  He presses his fingers to his chest, “Me?” he laughs.

  “Yes, you,” I say, smiling like an idiot, feeling the blush still burning my cheeks, “You’ve been around me enough to know that I do everything wrong and backwards.”

  Laughing, he says, “Yeah, maybe.” He grins at me. “Sorry, Anna. I didn’t mean to make it worse. I know that this isn’t easy for you.” He clears his throat, and tries to be serious again. “Okay, so you want to use crystals?”

  I nod, “I thought we could pour them across me so there are tons of them in a line—like a ribbon draped across here,” I gesture to my breasts, and then across my hips, “and across here.” He’s nodding, like he understands what I’m thinking. His blue eyes are sliding over the robe, then they flick up to me.

  “What else will you be wearing?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I breathe. I hurry on before I have time to notice the flush spreading across my body, “I liked the art you showed me. I thought I wanted something similar, but not so revealing. The crystals will cover me enough.”

  He’s smiling, watching me as I speak. When I finish he looks down at the box in his hands, “Okay, I see what you want to do, but I have to tell you that I lied the other night. I can’t shoot the exact same thing. I’m not the same person anymore. And you’re—” he glances up at me grinning, “different. So the question is, do you trust me to make something new, something equally alluring and beautiful?”

  His question takes me by surprise, “Trust you?” Smiling, I shake my head, surprised that he
has to ask. My heart pounds harder when I reply, “Yeah, of course I trust you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I’d be hiding out in the strawberry fields, jumping from moving cars, and that sort of thing, remember?” I laugh nervously.

  “Anna Lamore, artist, action hero, and a little bit crazy.” His voice mimics that deep voice in movie trailers right up until the last word and he laughs.

  “Mmmm,” I say nodding. “That’s right. Better watch your back, jack.” I waggle my eyebrows at him and he shakes his head.

  Cole glances at me, grinning, and strides around the table, stopping in front of me. “Okay, from here on out, this is my shoot. You’ll do as I ask quickly, without question, and hopefully, you’ll learn whatever it is you need to so you can do this.” I nod once. My nerves are twisting me into insanity.

  Cole leans against the table, and clasps his hands in his lap. Explaining the shoot he says, “This will take a few hours. I’ll be searching for the perfect shot. It’s easier for me to find it if I take my time. The lights will be out, so it’ll be totally dark. I’ll take some test shots to figure out what pose I’d like you in before we shut the light. Once I chose the pose, we’ll get started. I’ll use the lights, so you’ll see those and you may see me a little bit, but I won’t be in the finished product. Remember, you can’t move. Even breathing deeply can mess up the image, so no matter what—don’t move once the shutter clicks open.”

  I’m nodding as he’s speaking, trying to resist the urge to twist my fingers like a nervous child. I’ve done enough shoots with him to know how he is, that Cole will be beyond professional, but my heart is still pounding wildly.

  His eyes are sweeping over me as he speaks. When Cole stands and walks behind me, I don’t move. His voice is behind my ear, “I’ll take your robe so we can get started.” Cole’s out-stretched hand is next to me, waiting.