“Then someone else must’ve given it to me.”
“Or it isn’t me at all,” she said. “What’d you do? Doctor one of the pictures we took at Powell?”
She’d caught on quickly, even though he’d done an excellent job of changing the background. But knowing what he’d done wouldn’t improve her situation. She wouldn’t be able to counteract the damage to her reputation. Too many people had seen the photograph. Regardless of how much she denied that anything had happened, they’d secretly wonder what had gone on between her and Gary. Particularly since there’d been rumors when she’d left home before graduating from high school.
“I guess you’ll never know, huh?” Laughing, he pulled out his lighter. The br**sts he’d superimposed over her bikini top were gorgeous—for all he knew they were nicer than the real thing. He’d been careful to choose someone about her size and shape. But as fond as he was of his work, the time had come to destroy it.
Realizing what he was about to do, she lifted her gun again. “Oh, no, you don’t.”
“Go ahead and shoot,” he said, and lit the edge of the photograph.
With a curse, Sophia tossed her gun aside and lunged to stop him. He blocked her with one arm, but he was sitting on the bed, which put him at a disadvantage. He had to drop the picture in order to keep her away from it. Fortunately, it continued to burn where it landed on the floor. He just had to hold her down until it was too late.
“There goes your proof,” he whispered in her ear. “Proof that I got those tits off a p**n site on the Internet. At least I made you look good, huh? I could’ve used a picture of some tits that’d been butchered by an implant operation gone wrong. That would cause a stir with all the guys who like to dream about getting in your pants.”
If she could’ve reached her gun at that moment, she might’ve shot him. He’d never seen her fight so hard or become so incensed, but she was no match for his size and strength. The picture was completely destroyed by the time he let go of her and got up to put out the fire that was beginning to lick at the carpet.
Sophia’s chest heaved as she scrambled off the bed and watched him stamp out the ashes. She looked utterly distraught. And that made Leonard happier than he’d been in more than a year.
Victory. At last. He could hardly wait till she saw what he had in store for her next.
When Sophia arrived home, she was wiped out, physically and emotionally. She now knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Leonard was out to destroy her. It was as personal as it could get. But knowing didn’t help. Her life was unraveling so fast Sophia didn’t seem able to stop it. She kept searching for the quickest, surest way of breaking her fall, but she couldn’t grasp so much as a handhold.
Part of her wished she’d shot him. The way he’d taunted her, he’d asked for it. But she was a cop. That meant something to her. It meant she couldn’t abuse her right to carry a firearm, couldn’t abuse her power in any way, or she’d be no better than he was.
She told herself that what he’d done wasn’t the end of the world. That picture was a fake, the type of prank some stupid boy might play in high school. She’d simply deny any wrongdoing, do what she could to silence the rumors and weather the embarrassment. What other option did she have? But none of this would be easy. Everyone she met would wonder if it was true. Her mother would freak out and blame her, maybe quit speaking to her. And it could affect her job. Elizabeth Torres had seen that photo, which might legitimize the gossip, take it beyond the realm of a few guys talking dirty over beer.
Covering a yawn, she shuffled up the walk, her feet feeling like lead. She needed a chance to regroup and recover. But one question made it impossible to put the picture fiasco out of her head: How did Leonard find out about Gary? She doubted her mother had told him. Gary must’ve said something to someone recently, intimated that she’d been receptive to his advances. And Leonard had heard about it, probably at the Firelight, where so much of Bordertown’s gossip got started. That was the only reasonable explanation….
She walked into her bedroom before remembering that she’d let Rod stay the night. Until this second, she’d been too upset to think of anything but Leonard and what he was doing to antagonize her. Now she realized she didn’t even have a bed to fall into.
While she stood in the middle of the room, trying to decide whether she should make Rod move to the couch or sleep there herself, he leaned up on one elbow.
“Hey,” he murmured sleepily and slid over. “’Bout time you got home. You coming to bed?”
He said it as if there was no reason they couldn’t share her bed, and suddenly Sophia couldn’t name one, either. Although his injuries were more visible, she was hurt, too. What would it matter if they curled up together?
“Why not,” she said, and took a pair of boxers and a T-shirt into the bathroom to change. After hanging her uniform over the door, she crossed the room and climbed into the spot he’d vacated for her.
The residual heat from his body was a welcome contrast to the cool air pumping into the room, courtesy of her hard-working air conditioner. But he didn’t move, didn’t touch her. She was so sure he’d gone back to sleep, she inched closer to his body, searching for the comfort she couldn’t seem to find anywhere else. Somehow it helped just to hear him breathe.
He must’ve felt her move, must’ve sensed that she wanted to be near him, because he rolled over and scooped her up against his side as if they’d been sleeping together for years.
Once she noticed he was partially awake, she thought he might try to kiss her or touch her. She’d certainly made herself accessible, had even slipped one of her legs over one of his.
But he didn’t. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “What about you?”
“Better now,” he said with what sounded like a smile, and drifted off to sleep.
It felt good to be held, so good Sophia didn’t want to fall asleep despite the fatigue that had been dragging at her only minutes before. She lay awake for a long time, her head on his shoulder, her arm on his bare chest.
And then she began to crave something far less platonic.
Rod felt Sophia touch him while he was still half-asleep. Her hand traveled across his chest and hesitated briefly on his pectoral muscle before skimming lightly over his nipple. He told himself she was just shifting, trying to get comfortable. He thought maybe she was asleep and didn’t realize that her movements were so sensual. But a second later, he felt her press her lips to the indentation above his collarbone and knew she was doing more than merely seeking a new position in which to sleep.