Hidden Talents

chance,” she shot back. “I can't seem to stop you. According to you, I'm stuck with you as a consultant whether I like it or not.”
    “I'm not talking about the business side of this thing. I'm talking about the personal side of it.”
    In spite of her wariness and her deep uncertainty, a thrill of excitement and hope raced through Serenity. She clutched the envelope tightly. “Personal side?”
    “Look, let's try for a little honesty on both sides, okay?” Caleb asked quietly. “We're attracted to each other. We both more or less admitted it when I kissed you in my office. You kissed me back, if you'll recall. I know damn well that you want me as much as I want you.”
    Serenity's insides tightened. “I don't think I want to get involved with a man who would have to concentrate very hard not to think about a few photos of me every time he kissed me.”
    “I'll admit the news of those photos came as a shock at first, but I've had a chance to calm down. I know you're not—”
    “Not what?” She was suddenly very curious.
    “I know you're not the kind of woman who would deliberately pose for dirty pictures. I'm sure you believed Asterley when he told you that he wanted you to pose for the sake of art.”
    “Gosh, Mr. Ventress, your magnanimous attitude is overwhelming. I don't know what to say.”
    “Say yes.” Caleb stopped once more. He searched her face with stark eyes. “Say you'll give me a chance to prove that you can trust me again on a personal level.” He paused briefly, as if gathering himself for a plunge into very deep water. “Please.”
    It was the raw need buried in that single word, please , that was Serenity's undoing. She met Caleb's eyes and for the briefest instant thought she glimpsed the trailing wake of some deep, dark emotion that swam just beneath the surface. Once again he had reached out and touched her in some intimate, indefinable way, and she could not resist the contact. She was compelled to touch him, too.
    “Okay,” she said gently.
    Relief flashed in Caleb's expression. That emotion disappeared as swiftly as the other, more mysterious emotion, had. He scowled. “Okay? Is that all you have to say?”
    “What else is there to say?” She gave him a misty smile. “Hey, it's no big deal. Witt's End exists for people who want a second chance. It's practically the town motto. I'd be remiss in my civic duty if I didn't give you an opportunity to prove you aren't an arrogant, straitlaced, inflexible, unbending SOB.”
    “Very decent of you, Ms. Makepeace,” he muttered dryly. “Let's make a deal. When you show me the photos, I'll know that you trust me. Fair enough?”
    Serenity hesitated briefly and then shrugged. “Deal. But the decision will be mine. Understood?”
    “You're a tough negotiator.”
    “I'm taking lessons from an expert.”

    Forty minutes later, alone in her tiny office in the back of Witt's End Grocery, Serenity opened the envelope she had taken from Ambrose's files.
    She turned it upside down and shook out three photos. She glanced at the prints without much interest. She'd seen them before. The pictures showed her reclining and sitting on a large boulder next to a stream. The lighting was dramatic and other worldly. The black and white shots didn't worry her.
    What worried her was that the negatives were not in the envelope.

5

    W HAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, THE NEGATIVES ARE gone?” Caleb planted both hands on top of Serenity's desk and leaned forward in what probably appeared to be a thoroughly intimidating fashion.
    Some people would no doubt claim that it was not very nice to intimidate the queen of the butterflies, which was exactly what Serenity looked like this morning. The floaty, gauzy, iridescent-green sliplike thing that she was wearing over a green, high-necked, long-sleeved jumpsuit definitely made her look like butterfly royalty. The chaotic mass of her wild red hair only added to the overall effect. Here in Witt's End, Caleb had noticed, Serenity did not wear beige and gray, as she always had in Seattle.
    At the moment he didn't particularly care if he was charged with butterfly intimidation. He was furious. So furious, in fact, that he didn't even give a damn that he was skating on the jagged edge of his temper.
    Anger wasn't the only emotion twisting his insides. Serenity's news made him deeply uneasy in a variety of ways. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No, he corrected himself, he could believe it, all right. He