Vicki Lewis Thompson - Double Exposure

“Right here.” Kate pulled her T-shirt over her head, tousling her short red curls. “Waiting to see what develops.” She tossed the shirt away. “That’s a photography joke.”

“I like it.” He liked more than the joke. He’d always thought black lace was the ultimate turn-on, but white lace had just become his favorite, especially when it cupped breasts as plump and inviting as Kate’s.

She unsnapped her jeans and pushed them down over her hips. Then she paused and glanced at him. “Would you like me to take it a little slower?”

“Maybe later. Right now I just want all that stuff to disappear. I’m dying over here.”

She smiled at him. “I know. When I was checking you out in the bathroom, you were looking…lumpy.” She stepped out of her jeans.

“Lumpy.” Not the most flattering way to describe his package.

“Lumpy is good.” Then Kate reached behind her back, unfastened her bra and let it slide down her arms.

Hugh moaned in total appreciation. “No, honey—” he watched hungrily as she tossed the bra aside “—that is good.”

Dear Reader,

One of the best things about writing a prequel for the COOPER’S CORNER continuity series is that it gave me a chance to go back to my Yankee roots. My family is originally from that area—in fact, my mother’s family still owns a beach cottage on the Connecticut coast. And because everything in New England is so close to everything else, that cottage is only a hop, skip and a jump from Newport, Rhode Island, the lovely waterfront town where this story takes place. Hugh and Kate, my hero and heroine, sure have a terrific (and really hot) time there. I hope you will, too.

This book also gave me a chance to try something new—writing about twins. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be a twin, and this story line gave me a chance to play with the possibilities. And finally, if all of this wasn’t enough, I’ve had the pleasure of being tucked in between two of Temptation’s finest—Kristine Rolofson, starting off the series with a bang, and Jill Shalvis, delivering the dynamic conclusion (at least until the COOPER’S CORNER continuity series starts up in August).

So spend some time in New England. You’ll be glad you did.

P.S. For information about my upcoming releases, visit my Web site at www.vickilewisthompson.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Kylie Michelle Thompson.

Welcome to the world, little girl.

Your mommy can let you read this book

when you’re older…say about thirty-five.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

WHAT HE WOULDN’T GIVE for a hot tub and an even hotter woman.

Hugh Armstrong battled the frigid waves churned up by the studio’s helicopter as he swam toward a perpetually sinking sailboat for the tenth time, a rescue line clenched between his teeth. The film’s ambitious director obviously thought he was the next James Cameron and this shot of Antonio Banderas fighting through the water in the dark would win Oscars all around. Unfortunately it was Hugh doing the swimming, not Banderas.

People imagined the ocean off the coast of Southern California was warm and cozy. Maybe by August it would be, even at this time of night. But this was still June, and a cool June at that. Plus the chopper blades added a windchill factor Hugh didn’t care to think about.

Normally he loved his job, but he had to admit his favorite stunts involved leaping from cliffs and crashing through windows. He was in this profession strictly for the adrenaline rush, and there was nothing scary about this current gig. Nobody would let him drown as he rescued the six actors on board the sailboat.

So instead of the stimulation he craved, he was stuck with boredom and exhaustion. On top of that, he really wanted to catch the eight o’clock plane out of LAX in the morning so he could get a jump start on his weekend in Rhode Island. Attending Stuart and Kim’s wedding would be great, but the real draw was spending time with his twin brother Harry, who was Stuart’s best man. It had been way too long between visits.

Plus he could use a few days off. He could really use a few days off. Another salty wave smacked him in the face, and he vowed this tenth take would be golden. Calling on his reserves, he put on a burst of speed that the director had to love. He made it to the partly submerged sailboat and secured the line quickly, determined that this time the director wouldn’t yell cut as he had nine times before.

The cameras rolled. Hugh lifted his arms to the first passenger, an eight-year-old kid with a bright future in the film industry. The kid leaped into his arms, his fingernail gouging Hugh’s forehead in the process. Hugh didn’t even flinch as he grabbed the line and started hauling the kid back to the pitching yacht that was designated as the rescue boat. The cameras kept on rolling. Thank God. Maybe he’d make that plane, after all.

LATE AGAIN.

An old boyfriend had accused Kate of using habitual lateness to add drama to her life. She’d dumped the boyfriend in a fit of righteous indignation, but secretly she’d thought he’d nailed her motivation. Nothing got the adrenaline pumping like running fifteen minutes behind.

Heading out of Providence on the 95 toward the airport in Warwick, her Miata convertible’s top down and the radio blaring, Kate cruised on that adrenaline rush. June marked the beginning of good convertible weather in Rhode Island, and she loved driving with the wind in her hair, weaving her little red car in and out of traffic, making every second count.

In no time she’d exited the interstate and was approaching the airport. She wasn’t worried about successfully completing this afternoon’s errand, anyway. She had a picture of Harry Armstrong in her purse, so if she missed him coming from the gate area, she’d nab him somewhere in the terminal. Hunting him down would be more exciting than standing around waiting for him to show up, anyway.

And look at that. A space near the terminal opened up like magic in the crowded parking lot. Kate whipped her car into the slot and switched off the ignition. Rummaging in her large purse, she found her comb, ran it through her short hair and checked her makeup in the rearview mirror.

After she dropped her comb back in her purse, she picked up her compact Nikon and made sure it was loaded. Taking glam photos in the studio paid the rent, but lately she’d had a thing for candid shots, from the hilarious to the highly dramatic. It was only a sideline—a hobby, really. She hadn’t even shown her growing file of pictures to anyone. But these days she never went anywhere without a loaded camera.

After locking the car, she adjusted her wide purse strap across her chest and headed toward the pair of one-way streets separating the lot from the terminal. She’d always loved this airport. Inside the building, clearly visible through the windows, was a large sailboat in dry dock, as if to announce to the world that this had been a seaport long before air travel was even invented.