Sanctuary

water.”
    “I’ll get it.”
    “Okay, I’ll wait right here.”
    “Though it pains me to admit it, I think I’m a little too weak as yet to cart you over to the sink.” He shifted her weight and grinned as she rolled limply onto the rug.
    He got up to fill a glass, then stopped and looked at her. Her skin was rosily flushed all over, her hair a tangled red halo around her face. Her mouth was soft, still swollen and slightly curved in contentment. On impulse he set the glass down and lifted his camera.
    Her eyes flew open when she heard the click of the shutter. She yelped, instinctively crossing her arms over her breasts. “What the hell are you doing?”
    Stealing moments, he thought. He was going to need them. “Christ, you look good.” He crouched, clicked off another shot as her eyes widened.
    “Stop that. Are you crazy? I’m naked.”
    “You look incredible. All rumpled and flushed and freshly fucked. Don’t cover yourself. You’ve got beautiful breasts.”
    “Nathan.” She only folded her arms more protectively. “Put that camera down.”
    “Why?” He lowered it but continued to grin. “You can develop them yourself. Who’s to see? There’s nothing much more artistic and visually stunning than a nude study.”
    “Fine.” Keeping one arm strategically bent, she held out a hand. “Let me take you.”
    “Sure.” He offered the camera, amused to see her frown of surprise.
    “You aren’t the least bit embarrassed.”
    “No.”
    She angled her head toward the camera he still held. “I want that roll of film.”
    “Well, I wasn’t planning on taking it in to Fotomat, darling.” He glanced down, checked the number of shots left. “Just one more in here. Let me take it. Just your face.”
    “Just my face,” she agreed and relaxed enough to smile at him. “There. Now I want that film.”
    “Okay.” He moved quickly when she lowered her arm and got off the last shot.
    “Damn it, you said it was out.”
    “I lied.” Roaring with laughter, he rose and set the camera on the table. “But it’s out now. I’ll want to see the contacts so I can pick out the prints I want.”
    “If you think I’m going to develop that film, you’re mistaken.” She got up and grabbed the camera.
    “The pictures you took of the storm are in there.” He said it with a smile on his face that widened as he saw her struggle between the urge to rip out the roll and ruin it and the need to preserve her own shots.
    “That was very sneaky, Nathan.”
    “I thought so. Don’t put that back on,” he said when she bent down to retrieve her shirt. “It’s still damp. I’ll get you a dry one.”
    “Thanks.” She watched him walk to the bedroom, pursing her lips as she studied his tight, muscular buns. Next time, she decided as she tugged on her slacks, she’d make sure she had her own camera handy.
    And with that thought in mind, she unloaded the film and tucked it into her back pocket.
    He tossed her a T-shirt when he came back out, then fastened the dry jeans he’d pulled on. “I’ll walk back to Sanctuary with you. We’ll check on the status of things.”
    “All right. The search parties will probably be heading out again.” She combed her fingers through her hair to untangle it. “It’s going to be a mess out there from the storm. I’d put some boots on if I were you.”
    He glanced down at her olive-green sneakers. “You’re not wearing any.”
    “I would if I had them handy.”
    “So we’ll both get sloppy.” He took her hand and watched surprise flicker into her eyes when he lifted it to kiss her knuckles. “Then tonight, I’ll take you out to dinner.”
    “Out to dinner?”
    “Well, in to dinner. We’ll sit in the dining room, look at menus, order wine. I’m told people do that all the time.”
    “It’s silly. I live there.”
    “I don’t. I want to have dinner with you. The kind of evening where you sit across from each other at a table, with candles in between, have conversation. Where other people pretend they’re not watching us and thinking what an attractive couple we make.” He picked up a ball cap from the coffee table and snugged it over her hair. “And I can look at you all through the meal and think about making love to you again. It’s called romance.”
    “I’m not any good at romance.”
    “You said that about sex. You were wrong.” He took her hand and walked to the door. “Let’s see how this works out. Maybe Brian will whip up some