progress and she read it avidly not once but twice. Shannah was certain it was just her imagination, but the heroine seemed an awful lot like her, and not just her physical description.
Her dreams were filled with lusty images that could have been taken directly from his books. She had never had such dreams before. Dark dreams that left her restless and yearning for his touch, that made her wake in the middle of the night, his name on her lips, her hands reaching for him.
They went back to the studio to select a portrait. Shannah stared at the pictures spread before her, unable to believe that she was the woman in the photos. Did she really look like that?
She looked up at Ronan and shook her head. “This can’t be me.”
“Ah, but it is.”
“But how…?” Shannah looked at the pictures again. She looked cool and confident and sultry and beguiling all at the same time. She had never been cool or confident or sultry before. Why now?
She was still pondering that question when she looked into Ronan’s eyes. He was the answer, she thought. He made her feel beautiful and sexy and desirable. And even as the thought crossed her mind, desire arced between them like chain lightning.
“We’ll take this one,” Ronan said. “And these two. And this one.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm when she glanced at the photos he had chosen. She had been looking at him, thinking of him, when the photographer snapped the pictures.
“Do you think I could have one for my parents?” she asked.
“Certainly,” he said. “Pick whichever one you want.”
Ronan paid for the photographs and they left the studio.
“I thought you only needed one picture for the book jacket,” she remarked as they walked to the car.
“We do,” he said. “The other three are for me.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. It was incredible that he wanted her picture. Incredible and flattering.
She was getting into the car when she noticed that Ronan was still standing on the sidewalk, staring at something across the street.
Following his gaze, Shannah saw a blond-haired man standing on the opposite curb. He was staring at Ronan.
“Is that someone you know?” she asked when he finally got behind the wheel.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I take it he isn’t a friend of yours.”
Ronan grunted softly as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.
Shannah glanced out the back window. The man was still standing on the curb, staring after them.
“Who is he?”
“No one of importance. We’ll be leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow night.”
“So soon?”
He nodded.
“I’ve never been on a plane before.”
“Are you afraid of flying?”
“I don’t know.” She grinned at him. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night.”
Chapter Nine
Shannah hadn’t expected to be afraid of flying. After all, people did it every day. They had gotten through security all right, although she had thought taking off her shoes was a bit much. At any rate, they had made it safely through security and boarded the plane. She was surprised to find that Ronan had purchased a row of first-class seats for the two of them. He indicated she should sit by the window.
She hadn’t been the least bit nervous during boarding but now that she was actually on the plane, in her seat, she was suddenly very, very scared.
Planes crashed all the time. And then there was the ever-constant threat of hijackers and terrorists. She knew she would never forget the sight of those two airplanes flying into the Twin Towers, or the nightmare images that had followed. She had been in bed, asleep, when her father called that morning. She had listened in stunned disbelief while he told her what was happening. Relieved that her parents were all right, she had turned on the television and watched, bewildered and horrified, as what was happening in New York City was played over and over again. It seemed as if the very fabric of time had been rewoven that day. There
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley