Page 21 of A Shot at Love
He’d known she was an exceptional photographer just from viewing the untouched photos she’d captured of his crime scene. But what he hadn’t realized was what a magnificent eye for detail and color she possessed.
Every single picture that slid by was better than the one before. Black-and-white images of city buildings, buildings he recognized and had even been in, never realizing how beautiful their architecture truly was; colored images of sunrise at South Ferry station, gazing out over the harbor; the Statue of Liberty at sunset, Lady Liberty looking as if she were going to jump down and walk away from her pedestal.
His breath caught in the back of his throat when the next series of photographs scrolled through. They had to be family portraits because each woman bore some resemblance to the one before. When a shot of a beaming Kandy Laine holding an infant popped up, her husband next to her, his arm thrown possessively across them, Ky knew the photos were of Gemma’s own family. But not one picture in the collection was of her. Gemma Laine was the face behind the camera, never, apparently, in front of it.
“What are you doing?”
Surprise banged through him first. He’d been so engrossed with the slide show he hadn’t heard the water shut off or the bathroom door open.
When he turned and found her standing next to the bed, her arms, as usual, crossed in front of her, primal awareness replaced the surprise in an instant.
Her mussed hair, wrinkled shirt, and the sheet mark indenting the left side of her cheek told him until quite recently she’d been on the bed, probably sound asleep. The mistrust in her eyes as she gazed across the room told him she was still wary of him. The fact she’d caught him in her room, uninvited and examining her computer screen, told him he deserved her watchful glare.
“I knocked,” he said. “You didn’t answer. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She uncrossed her arms and walked over to the desk. The scent of fresh-picked cherries floated with her and her hairline was damp as if she’d just washed her face.
“Did you think by going through my computer you’d discover if I was?” She slammed the laptop closed and leveled another piercing stare at him.
Ky dug deep for calm. He’d never had such trouble reining in his annoyance before. But ever since he’d met Gemma Laine, her attitude piqued his irritation to levels he was usually able to ignore. He waited a beat until he was sure he could at least speak in a civil tone, and then said, “I wasn’t going through your computer. I’d never invade your privacy like that. I was simply watching the slide show, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom.”
Before she could shoot a snarky comeback at him, he added, “Your photographs are amazing. I can see for myself why you’re so successful.”
His words shocked her into silence. Her shoulders relaxed under her sleep-wrinkled blouse and she dropped her hands to her sides, unfurling them from fists as she did.
“The pictures of the city buildings are so lifelike, I felt like I was standing right in front of them, looking up at them. You’re extremely talented.”
“Th—thank you.”
Confusion replaced the wariness. Her brow, still crinkled, had his fingers tingling to reach up and rub it smooth. Why did she feel she had to constantly be on guard around him? She certainly hadn’t reacted to his partner like she did to him. Why, with him, did she feel the need to shield herself?
“I’m sorry you thought I was snooping,” he said, as he dropped his hands into his pants pockets. “I wasn’t. Jon made me realize you’ve been up here, sequestered, all day, and we just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Find out if you needed anything or if you were hungry.”
Gemma ran her fingers through her unruly hair. “I’m starving, actually,” she admitted. “At home I keep snacks around my workspace so I don’t have to stop and make something to eat.” Her sigh was deep and long. “I’ve got nothing up here.”
“I can have the room stocked for you. All you need to do is tell me what you want.”
“What I really want is to get out of here,” she said, her plump lips pulling into a pout. She picked up one of the cameras sitting next to her computer and played with the buttons. “But since that’s not happening anytime soon, I’ll have to deal with it.” She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I was just on my way downstairs to see if I could get something to eat.” She slung the camera around her neck.
