Scandalous Heroes Box Set (32 page)

Large circles were noticeable beneath her eyes, and her skin seemed almost ghost-white. In her hands, she clutched a few of the items Affrica had brought with her.

She waited for the woman to take whatever time she needed. In her pocket, her phone vibrated but she ignored it. More important things were going on now.

Teary light blue eyes lifted to glance at her. With trembling hands, Irene placed the picture and cross necklace down on the coffee table. “He was so sure something was going on over there,” she said in a shaky voice. “I tried to get him to go to the authorities but he insisted he had to have proof. All he was going to do was take pictures. It would be safe. But he never came home.” Large tears spilled over and ran down her face.

Affrica swallowed before reaching over to take her hand. Her skin felt paper-thin. “I know this is hard for you, Mrs. Marshall. I can’t imagine what a loss like this would feel like, and I am so very sorry you have to experience this.”

“Did you know my Davy well?”

“No, ma’am. We’d only met a few times but he was such a gentleman.”

A slight smile. “Yes, that was my Davy. Never rude.” She wiped at her tears. “His father wouldn’t stand for it. He was a military man. Broke his heart when Davy didn’t follow in his footsteps. He…he would have been proud of him though. I just know it.”

“Of course he would be. I know how military men can be sometimes.”

“Does your husband serve?”

“No, ma’am, I’m not married. My brother serves.”

Mrs. Marshall got up and led her to a small table laden with pictures. They spent a good portion of time looking at them. Husband and son.

“I know you didn’t have to come all this way to give me his personal effects. You could have mailed them. So you must need something.”

“Actually, I do, Mrs. Marshall.”

The woman stared at her with assessing eyes. “What is that?”

Affrica guided her back to the padded seat and sat across from her again. “They are presenting an award for breaking this story. To me, but I only finished what your son started. I would like you to come where I will accept on his behalf and present it to you.”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“You son broke this, gave his life for it. It’s nae right for me to take credit.” She shifted. “There is one other thing, though. If I publically put your name out there, you could be in danger, if there are more who think Davy may have told you something. If you would rather remain anonymous, I can just present it to you and not call you out as his mother. I would love to hand this to you before everyone but you have to think of your safety.”

“You are a wonderful woman, Miss O’Shea. I would be honored to come accept it. You tell me when and where.” She patted her hand. “As for the danger, those cretins took everything from me the day they killed my Davy. So let them come.”

“I want you safe.”

“I’m safe enough. One thing, though,” she said.

“What’s that, Mrs. Marshall?”

“Stop hiding your accent. Before I married Mr. Marshall, I was a Delaney. Does this old heart good to hear a touch o’ the Irish.”

Affrica smiled. She’d worked hard to speak clearly, so the woman wouldn’t have a hard time understanding her.

“Do you still speak it?”

For the first time since she’d arrived, Affrica noticed Mrs. Marshall’s eyes sparkle.

“I sure do,” she replied in Gaelige.

Affrica remained for the rest of the day and left after utilizing Mrs. Marshall’s kitchen to make her some good Irish fare. She left with a hug and the promise to keep in touch besides the ceremony next month.

Back at her hotel, she took a long, hot shower before sitting on the queen-sized bed, bundled in the thick terry cloth robe. Drawing her legs up, she sighed as she rested her chin upon her knees. Fingers laced along her shins, she stared out the window at the sight presented. Astoria was a beautiful town.

These past weeks had been harried, and she relished the quiet. Part of the reason she embarked on the four-day train ride out to Oregon as opposed to taking a plane was she needed to decompress. No Outback, no one trying to kill her, and no bloodthirsty reporters trying for an exclusive about everything. She’d fielded calls from newspapers wanting her working for them.

“Not a chance,” she uttered.

In her eyes, her job was perfect already. She swiped her tongue along her lower lip as—like usual—her mind drifted toward the all-too-handsome and enigmatic Reeve Leighton.

The night with him had been off-the-charts amazing. Even now, her body flushed and grew damp at the simple thought of his touch. He’d given her an experience she’d not forget.

Her brother would kill him for simply touching her. Hell, even for taking her to his place. Much less, what happened after.

Aidrian.

The satisfied smile slid from her face as she thought him. She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She’d almost lost her brother.
Thank you, for keeping him safe.
Maverick had called her on the train, letting her know he was okay—still in Antarctica but safe.

When she started this trip, she’d had bare minimum information other than his plane had gone down. Luckily, now, she knew he was all right.

The theme for Hawaii Five-O filtered through her thoughts grabbing it. Wiping the tears, she leaned to the bedside table and answered her new phone without checking the screen.

“O’Shea.”

“Miss me, sweetness?”

The deep rasp of his voice raised goose bumps all over her skin. She dug her toes into the bedspread and fought the smile which threatened. The fact he’d gotten her number didn’t surprise her in the least or worry her. Still, she asked.

“Nae. How did ya get this number?”

“Godric.”

She frowned. “He gave it to ya?”

“Nope. I went to his office and looked you up. The number on your card goes to a message service.”

Could be who called her earlier, the buzz she’d ignored. “So you stole it.”

“You say steal, I prefer the term liberate.”

Her laugh slid free before she could contain it. “It wasna a prisoner. You canna liberate a phone number.”

“Semantics.”

She swung her legs to the floor and padded to the sliding door to step out onto the balcony.

“So what can I do for the one and only Reeve Leighton?”

He chuckled, decadent and darkly sexual. “So many responses, sweetcheeks.”

“And yet, I may just say no.”

“You didn’t that night.”

“The past.” She stepped back in to avoid the wind off the ocean that had increased.

“Am I keeping you from something?”

“I was hoping to get dressed to avoid eating without a stitch on.”

The sound of something falling echoed by his curse came through the phone. “Not fair, sweetcheeks.”

“If you dinna want mah answer, you shouldna asked the question.”

“Trust me, I would love to know all about your…um…lack of dress but my mother is here. Which brings me to the other reason I called.”

Other? He never mentioned a first, and she told him so.

“To hear your voice, of course.”

Despite her not being a young chit easily impressed by a smooth line, even she had to acknowledge the tremors his admission sent though her. Forcing back the starry-eyed haze which was rapidly overtaking her, she snorted.

“Right. What did ya call for?”

“You don’t seem to believe me.”

She didn’t but wasn’t about to get into an argument over something which was pointless anyway. “The reason?” she reiterated.

His sigh was loud and she rolled her eyes. “I want to hire you.”

Immediately, her mind drifted back to when he gave her the indecent proposal in Godric’s office, and she stiffened.

He must have understood her silence for he spoke quickly. “It is legit. My parents are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary, and we’d like you to take the pictures.”

She breathed deeply, relaxing, then walked to her calendar. “When is the event?”

“End of next month, the twenty-eighth. I know it’s not much time, but if you could do it, we’d be grateful.”

The day was clear—three days after the award ceremony. She tapped her pen against the paper and ran through the reasons why she should and those as to why she shouldn’t.

“You still with me, sweetcheeks?”

“Why me?” she asked. “There are plenty of professional photographers in your area.”

“Besides the obvious I want to see you again? I’ll tell you. And before you think it’s just me, it’s not; my brothers agree. So does my sister. There is something extra in the photos you take. You find that perfect image and bring the best out of those in it. You discover something that other people miss.”

“I’m nae sure I can swing it,” she answered honestly.

“Are you hiding from me?”

“Nae. I’ll be in Perth three days prior. I have to escort someone back to Oregon and… Well, I can try mah hardest to get there, but I wouldn’t want you to solely depend on mah arrival and not be there.”

“This has to do with the thing you found in Australia?”

“Aye.”

“And who are you flying back to Oregon with?”

“The ma o’ the man who started to discover this.” A moment’s pause. “If she comes. She said she would but she’s nae a youngun.”

“And you feel responsible for her.”

She bristled. “She is a dearie and has been through hell, having lost both her husband and son. They want to award me with what should go to her child. Yes, I feel responsible.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. That sounded not how I wanted it to.”

Holding up her hands, she shook her head. “I should apologize. The day has been a long one.”

“If I have a way to get you and your friend back to Oregon in time, would you do it?”

She rolled her lower lip in her teeth. It had been five days since she’d been in his arms, and she wanted to experience it again. Why should she deprive herself of what she wanted? She held no illusions of what it was between them.

“Aye. But I would have ta know before I make our plans.”

“I’ll be calling often, sweetcheeks. Get some rest, you sound tired.”

“Okay.” She had no energy to argue. So, with a quick goodbye, she ended the call.
I can eat later.
She yawned and closed her eyes.

It was dark when she awoke. For a few moments, she debated on closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep before she left the bed. Opting to rise, she got up, turned on some light, and dressed.

Within the next hour, she sat at the desk, her laptop open with some photos on it and a cheeseburger with fries beside her. Coke to drink. She ate and placed orders for more items she needed, film especially. Normally, she would do digital shots when working with people since most were impatient and it was easier to give a CD with the shots on it.

Another reason I prefer shooting wildlife.
There was just something more with real film in her eyes. Black and whites were amazing. After her expedition back to Virginia and Reeve, she would be going to Africa.

She worked well past finishing her food and answered emails as well as returning calls. Once content all was caught up, she opened up a file she’d recently uploaded and began sifting through the images. The shots were of some flora, and she sought to find the right ones to sell.

The night progressed, bringing with it a storm. She shoved her hair into a ponytail, grabbed her camera, and went out on the balcony. Through the wind and rain, she snapped pictures of the lightning over the water. The rolling clouds and the feel of the storm.

Three and a half hours later, she snagged “the shot” she’d been waiting for and walked, soaking wet, back into her room. After another shower, she slid exhausted into bed.

Her wake-up call came at the requested time, and she rolled from bed with a weary groan. Dressed, she packed her items and double-checked to ensure she had it all. A habit of hers, even though she had a lot of confidence of having everything packed. She stayed in a great many places and pretty much lived out of her canvas duffle.

Shouldering the strap, she headed downstairs. An older white man waited behind the counter and she approached him with a wave and greeting.

“The taxi has been called, Ms. O’Shea.”

“Wonderful,” she said, giving him the keycard and signing the bill.

“Forgive me, but I wanted to tell you it’s amazing what you went through to get that photo evidence back to the authorities.”

Her hand froze in the middle of her signature. She met his gaze.

“You recognized me?”

His smile was kind. “You and your name, Ms. O’Shea.”

“Thanks for the kind words but the thanks should go to Davy. He uncovered it first.” She finished her signature and slid the paper with pen back to him.

“I think you both do.” He gave her the receipt.

They shared a look and she nodded. “Goodbye.”

Affrica strode for the door and climbed in the waiting taxi. “Bus station, please.”

It didn’t take too long, and soon, she was climbing on her bus to Sea-Tac airport. Her business concluded for a while in the United States. She reclined in the seat and smiled at the thought of seeing Reeve again.

* * * *

Perth, Australia

Reeve adjusted the bowtie on his tuxedo and shifted in the seat at the table he’d purchased a spot at. He drained his champagne and immediately looked around for more. While he was no stranger to black tie affairs, tonight he was nervous. For tonight, he got to see Affrica again.

He did another scan of the room and frowned for he didn’t see her.
Did she decide not to come?
He saw some celebrity A-listers there who were big into humanitarian efforts.

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” the gentleman beside him said.

Like you know everyone here, man.
“I’m Ms. O’Shea’s friend. Name’s Reeve, Reeve Leighton.”

The black brows rose. “Really? You know Affrica? How well do you know her?”

Tamping back his arrogant instinctive response, he merely shrugged, despite being completely unhappy with this man calling her by her first name. “Our relationship isn’t any of your business.”