Kylie Brant - The Last Warrior

But getting involved with one who could make him feel…that was a disaster waiting to happen. And a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

“Obviously you weren’t told ‘no’ often enough as a child. You have a problem with the word.” Delaney’s tone was caustic, lest he think that opening the door for him was a welcoming gesture. There was no use trying to keep him out. He’d already proved, on numerous occasions, that he didn’t regard a shut or locked door as any particular deterrent.

“You have the photos. You have the equipment to work with them and print them.” He walked into the house and faced her. “I’ve got a case that’s taking up all my time at work. It doesn’t make sense to add on one more task tomorrow when I can just as easily see them here, tonight.”

His logical tone was nearly as annoying as his presence. But when he walked through the house toward the spare bedroom where he’d surprised her that first night, she let the screen door bang shut and hurried after him. “Don’t touch anything.”

He hitched a hip on the corner of her desk. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She picked up a stack of photos and a magnifying glass, and handed them to him. “I’m just taking a closer look at them now.” At his sharp glance, she snapped, “I’ve been busy. I do have a job to do here, you know.”

Joe flipped through the pictures quickly, then started through them again, this time with the magnifying glass, to study them more closely. “You took this many shots of one place?”

Delaney rolled her eyes and sat down at the computer, trying to ignore the fact that his stance placed him in disturbingly close proximity. Quickly, she selected the appropriate photo folder on the screen and opened it. “It’s not uncommon for me to take twice as many shots to get one or two I can use. That’s one of the advantages of digital. There’s so much less waste. I can delete the ones of poorer quality without ever printing them.”

The first of the photos filled the screen. With swift movements she set up enlarging the photo in ten percent increments. He looked up and scanned the room. “You have more equipment in here than before.”

“It arrived this morning.” And she’d fussed over it like a mother hen until it had been time to set off for Charley’s. She gave little thought to clothes or jewelry, but when it came to her photography and computer equipment, she spared no expense. “I numbered the pictures on the back, and they’re in the order I took them. I was using a zoom at first, before switching to a wide angle when I got closer.”

Joe peered more closely through the magnifying glass at the picture in his hand. “And you thought the shots were fired from the top of the cliff?”

“They seemed to be.” She brought up another picture, enlarged it and then began zooming in on sections along the top of the cliff. “But after the first couple I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy trying to survive.”

He looked at the screen and lowered the magnifying glass. “What’s that?” He tapped an area on the computer screen with an index finger.

“Reflection, probably.”

“Yeah, but off what?” He slid from his perch and knelt next to her.

She zoomed in on the section once, then again. Other than the spot of light he’d noted, there was nothing to see. Disappointed, she sat back in the chair. “The angle probably caught a streak of mineral in the rock. The photos before and right after this one don’t show anything.” She continued clicking on the individual photos, zooming in on sections along the top of the cliff line. It was a tedious process, made more so by her heightened awareness of the man inches away from her.

He was too close. Hadn’t she told herself that they should never get this near again? Hadn’t she told him? Apparently her hormones didn’t heed advice because they were humming to life. Which only went to prove they operated separate from good sense.

Grimly, she inched a little over in her seat, to place a bit more distance between them as she cropped a photo on the screen and enlarged it. Despite his reaction earlier when she’d set the new boundaries between them, Joe didn’t appear to be experiencing any problems by working this closely with her. She stole a glance at him, but he was once again absorbed in the stack of photos. It was a kick to the ego to see how little effect she had on him, especially since his nearness was playing havoc with her concentration.

Reid had had the same sort of focus, she recalled with a pang. Despite what went on between them personally, he had always been able to switch his attention from her to the job with an ease that had stung more than a little. Not that she needed, or wanted, a man’s undivided attention at all times. But she’d come to accept that she was never going to be as important to Reid as the story, whatever it happened to be.

It had been the love of the job that had brought them together. In her darkest moments she wondered if the story was the only real bond they shared. He’d loved her, as much as he was capable. She’d always wonder if that would’ve been enough. If it would have ever stopped feeling like little slices to the heart every time he’d shut her out, shut himself away.

She’d never had the opportunity to find out. He’d died with seventy-one others in that hotel blast and her life had never been the same.

The memory had her defenses slamming firmly in place. She’d never go through that again. It was easier, far easier, to be the one who backed away. Maybe she’d wounded Joe’s pride by being the first to point out what a mistake last night was, but she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have arrived at the same conclusion on his own.

He hadn’t exactly struck her as a man looking for a serious relationship, at any point.

Immersed in her own thoughts, she almost missed it. She’d moved on to another part of the photo she was examining when her mind caught up with her subconscious. Quickly she went back to the section she’d just zoomed in on. Patiently, Delaney readjusted the picture until she had a clear view of the portion that had caught her attention.

“What does this look like to you?”

Immediately Joe leaned over to study the screen. A hard satisfied smile crossed his lips. “A person’s forehead.”

“Exactly.” Pursing her lips, Delaney hit the command keys to print out a copy of the enlarged photo. “Like he was crouched behind that outcrop of rock up there, with only a portion of his head visible.”

“Let’s see what else you can get. It’ll be tough to identify him by his hairline.”

Delaney made a face at him but he’d already turned to leave the room. He was back a moment later with one of her kitchen chairs. “Move over.”

Although she wasn’t pleased at being ordered around in her own home, she did as he directed to avoid having him in her lap. “I didn’t notice that, even with the magnifying glass,” Joe murmured, snatching up the photo as soon as the printer finished it.

Eagerly, she brought up the next photo, taking painstaking care to enlarge the spot where the forehead had appeared in the previous picture. Nothing could be seen. Clamping down a quick surge of disappointment, she searched the rest of the photo just as carefully before bringing up the next one. She checked the clock in the corner of her computer screen. “This is going to take a while,” she pointed out. She could feel the heat emanating from Joe’s body. And it was all too easy to recall that same warmth when his bare flesh pressed against hers.

Nerve endings prickled at the memory, and her skin seemed to shrink two sizes. She needed time and distance to regain her equilibrium. It wasn’t so much to ask, was it? The last thirty-six hours had been enough to knock anyone off their stride. It didn’t mean she was weak to want a little space. It was only logical, and she would welcome a little logic in her life right about now.