Photo Opportunity (2 page)

Chapter Two

Daniel sat at a café table on the Tamarama beachside promenade in Sydney. Ever aware of the possibility of a good photograph, he scanned his surroundings with a practiced eye. On the steep concrete driveway leading down from the road, he found what he was looking for. His heart beat a little faster and his body tightened in anticipation.

She was stunning. He caught a glimpse of a shapely leg between her skirt and the long black boots of her professionally matched outfit. But it was the high, round breasts and fuck-me curves that really grabbed his attention.

Her long, straight hair streamed behind her in the breeze, the glare from the winter sun tinting it a coppery brown. Sunglasses, perched on a small button nose, hid her eyes. Full lips moved seductively as she spoke into her cell phone.

His groin stirred.

He lifted his ever-present camera as his photographer’s instincts took over and zoomed in, focusing on the flawless skin of her face. He waited until she faced him, stared at his lens before he took the photograph. Several more were taken in quick succession, capturing her startled look, then annoyance, then finally determination, highlighted by the purse of her lips and set of her jaw.

She was pissed off.

He watched through his Nikon lens as she clicked her phone shut and marched over to him. When she stood a few steps away, her proximity blurred the image, forcing him to lower the camera. She was close enough that the scent of vanilla, fresh and subtle, hit his nose.

“Did you just take a photo of me?” Her voice was soft and sexy and very irritated.

He smiled unabashedly in an attempt to disarm her. “I did.” Her aroma continued to waft around him, through him, and he had to adjust his position as his jeans stretched taut around his growing erection.

She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. Her eyes narrowed. “It didn’t occur to you to ask my permission?”

“Nope.” He leaned forward an inch, loath to lose her scent.

Resting her arms on the table, she said, “Do you think that’s fair?”

“Yup. With those looks, you should be a model.” She was any photographer’s dream subject. He could think of a few choice poses he’d like to film her in. None of them included clothes.

She frowned. “I don’t like having my picture taken. Please put the camera away.”

“Sorry,” he said in the nicest possible way. “Can’t do that.” All he had on film was her face. He wanted the body too. And the legs—the endlessly long legs in those foxy, high-heeled boots. Legs he’d like wrapped around his waist as they made love. She could leave the boots on—everything else would have to come off.

“C’mon Dan. You know how uncomfortable I get. Just put the camera down and let’s have lunch.”

“Morgan,” he said, addressing her by her last name as he always did. “I’ve been taking pictures of you for years. Your face was made for a camera. Don’t you think it’s time you accepted that I’m not going to stop?”

“I think you take advantage of the fact I’m your best friend and as such, won’t scream at you.” Amy pouted.

He laughed even as his lips itched to taste the full-mouthed pout. “Yeah, right. You never scream. Or lecture, or tell me when I’m doing something you don’t like.”

Her face relaxed into a smile. “Okay, so maybe I scream at you every now and again, but it’s not as if you listen anyway.”

A waitress delivered their food, interrupting their conversation. “Hope you don’t mind,” he told Amy, “but you said you were in a hurry, so I ordered for us.”

The waitress leaned over, offering Daniel an impressive view of her cleavage, and cast him a suggestive glance. He merely smiled and directed his attention back to his friend. Once upon a time he would have accepted the invitation. Not now.

“Thanks,” Amy answered as she watched the waitress strut off. She looked at him with a bemused smile. “I still get a kick out of watching women try to pick you up.”

Daniel shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a good-looking guy. Everyone wants a piece of me.” He chuckled out loud.
Everyone except you.

She bit into her bruschetta and a look of ecstasy flitted across her face. “Mmm… You know this is my favorite.”

For a full thirty seconds he was winded. She had that exact look on her face in his dream last night. Need rolled through him. He tucked into his own meal, hoping the bread and soup would satisfy the hunger gnawing away at him. It didn’t. His cock was so hard it hurt.

He cleared his throat. “Do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

He lifted his camera. “Go stand there against the railing and watch the surfers for a couple of minutes.” He was taking a chance, but it was worth it if he could get a shot of her from behind. She had a great ass—round and tight.

“You’re impossible!”

“I know. You’ll do it anyway, won’t you?” He flashed a smile, one he knew she couldn’t say no to.

Instead of complying like he expected her to, she ignored him and leaned back, sipping her latte. “How was the last day of your shoot at the hospital?”

“You’re changing the subject.” He smiled again, a pleading smile this time.

“Your lunch is getting cold. And your dimples don’t work on me, so lose the smile. Besides, I have to be back at the office in forty-five minutes so it doesn’t give us much time.”

Resigned to the unhappy fact that Amy wouldn’t pose for him today, Daniel put his camera away, sighing.

“So how did your last day go?” The teasing note in her voice was now gone.

Daniel thought for a minute. “Bittersweet, I guess. I’m glad the shoot’s over. I can focus on developing the prints. But, shit,” he shook his head as emotion clawed at his gut, “it was hard to say goodbye to some of the kids.”

“You’ll go back and visit them, won’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.” His voice caught and he had to clear his throat. “I’m just not sure which of them will be there next time I go.”

Amy nodded empathically. “This project’s been hard on you.”

“Very.” He knew she understood why. After so many years of friendship, there were no secrets between them. Well, almost no secrets. Apart from the one tiny fact that he was wildly in love with her, Amy knew everything about him. But how could he confess the truth without her heading straight for the hills in abject terror?

“It’s been rewarding too,” he said. “I learned an amazing amount from the kids. Stuff that changed my way of thinking.”
Understatement!
The last three months had brought back his past and in doing so, reshaped his future. He was a different person from the man he had been twelve weeks ago.

“Tell me about it.”

Daniel hesitated a moment, thinking about the shoot, how much to tell her. He’d spent the last three months in the Pediatric Oncology and Hematology Ward at Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs Hospital—POWS as the staff called it—capturing the children, their families and the staff members on film. His photos were being displayed in an exhibition that Lexi, a social worker on the ward, had organized. The funds raised from the exhibition would be used to upgrade and refurbish the ward.

It was no coincidence that Daniel and Lexi chose this particular project. The siblings had a special interest in children with cancer. When they were just kids themselves, their sister, Sarah, had been diagnosed with leukemia. It had been a year of pure hell but Sarah beat the odds and the cancer went into full remission.

It wasn’t the assignment Daniel was reluctant to discuss with Amy—she knew all about it anyway. It was the consequences of the time he spent there. The lessons he learned that were so hard to share.

It was the terrifying moments of clarity that he couldn’t voice just yet. How could he describe his emotion when watching a family spend their last precious hours with their son and brother? How could he share all he learned about himself while sitting beside the desperately ill young Vicky?

Vicky had gone home. The young boy hadn’t. Their outcomes had been dramatically different. Twenty-odd years before, Daniel and his family had lived in fear that they were spending their last days with Sarah. They’d been fortunate. Unlike the boy, Sarah had survived.

Instead of answering Amy immediately, he reached for his bag and removed an envelope of photos he’d developed that morning. Flipping through them, he found one he was looking for and handed it to his friend.

The black and white print was appropriate for the subject—a young, bald girl with dark eyes. The lack of color in the picture could not detract from the pasty shade of her skin.

“Her name’s Vicky Campen. She’s ten and has leukemia,” he explained as Amy gazed at the picture. “She tried to smile for my camera, but a bout of nausea knocked her flat.” He gnawed on his lip. His hand had been shaking when he took the shot.

He frowned, forming his sentences carefully. “She reminded me so much of Sarah.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I…we got pretty close while I was there. I spent a lot of time with her, just hanging out, talking, reading books. Then one day we had a chat about her illness.” He tapped a little faster. “She spoke so candidly about the possibility she might die.” He pictured Vicky’s face at the time, recalled the adult eyes staring out from the child’s face. “She just wanted a little more time to appreciate her family and the other people she loves. She’s fighting her cancer so she can spend time with them. She learned she can’t take anyone for granted.” He stopped, stilled his fingers and took a deep breath. “Got me thinking…I do that a lot. Take my life and the people in it for granted.”

Amy’s expression was gentle as she looked at him. “I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for you, spending all that time with Vicky. How many memories it must have brought back. But what you’re saying is simply not true. I’ve never seen you take your friends or family for granted. And I think I can speak from experience.”

“See, that’s just the thing. I also never used to think that about myself. But Vicky forced me to look at my life and my behavior quite thoroughly. The truth is I’m not happy with where I am right now.”

Her brow puckered as concern radiated from her. “Can you be more specific? What exactly aren’t you happy with? Where would you rather be?”

He smiled. “Truthfully? I’m not ready to speak about it.” The things he wanted to tell her would change the dynamics of their relationship and she wasn’t ready to hear them. Not yet. Not until he’d put his plan into action.

Amy pushed her sunglasses up until they rested above her forehead. Brilliant green eyes appraised him and her face shone with curiosity. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener, you know.”

He grinned at her, suddenly feeling horny as hell. Christ, he wanted to get her into bed, wanted to see those green eyes glazed with passion. “You’d be a pretty useless counselor if you weren’t.”

“Forget my job, we’re talking about yours. Or about your life anyway. So come on. Where would you rather be?”

Oh God. She should only know where he wanted to be right now. Buried deep inside her slick, hot folds. Riding high on the wave of yet another orgasm. Locked away in a place where he could ravish her body at will…

“Daniel?” Amy’s voice brought him back to the present. “You’ve got a funny look on your face. You okay?”

He looked at her. Oh, to just come right out and say it, tell her how he felt. But he couldn’t. She’d bolt if he did. Instead, he chose to appeal to her understanding, nurturing side. “I need a little time with this one, Morgan. I have to sort it out in my own mind first.” He drummed his fingers on the table again. “I promise, when the time’s right, we’ll talk about it. Today though, I’d just like to sit here and enjoy my lunch with you.”