Slow Burn (13 page)

“You need to calm down. You don’t want to
have a panic attack.”

Ron took a deep calming breath and smiled.
That was low. For his uncle to bring up his ailment was a sure sign
he felt cornered.

“That wasn’t necessary, Uncle Gregory,” he
said in a calmer tone. “You can’t order me to stop this and expect
me to obey. Not without a reasonable explanation. This is the only
chance I have to clear my father’s name of something you’ve all
been whispering behind closed doors for years. He didn’t start that
fire ten years ago. He’s a hero. Nothing you say or do will stop me
from proving it.”

“You’re just like him,” his uncle sneered.
“Arrogant, irresponsible….”

“Don’t stop now,” Ron urged him. “You want me
to stop the investigation, tell me more. Tell me what happened ten
years ago. Tell me about my father.”

He dismissed Ron’s request with a wave. “I
don’t intend to discuss or negotiate with you over this, Ronald. Do
us all a favor and stop this now.”

“I can’t.” Ron stepped back. “Now that we
know where we stand, go and tell your biker-friend down there to
stop shadowing me?”

His uncle frowned. “What are you talking
about?”

“The man you have tailing me? Tell him to
back off. I will not tolerate being spied on.”

The scowl on his uncle’s face intensified.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Ronald, but I have nothing to do with
your stalker.” His uncle opened the door, paused to say, “I hope
you’ll see reason and stop this.” That said, he left, slamming the
door behind him.

Ron blew out a breath. He didn’t know what
bothered him more, the shadow of anxiety in his uncle’s eyes or the
biker. He turned to stare down at the man. He removed his cell
phone from its holder and dialed security.

***

Ashley spread the pictures on the counter and
crunched her lower lip as she studied them. Why couldn’t she get
past the feeling that she was somehow involved in what happened
that night at Carlyle House? She retrieved a writing pad from a
nearby drawer, quickly scribbled the word ‘filth’ on it, and pinned
it up on the corkboard beside her refrigerator.

Any recovered memory, however insignificant,
must be written down. Dr. Irene Reuben had told her that years ago.
She hadn’t recalled anything until today. Why had she been filthy
that night? Maybe she needed to pay the good doctor a visit. It had
been years.

She pulled out cell phone, searched her
contacts for Dr. Rueben’s number and dialed. After explaining why
she needed to see the doctor, the assistant found her a slot on the
following Wednesday afternoon. The next call was to her uncle
Kirkland, but she hesitated, her fingers hovering over the
buttons.

Ron had said his friend would talk to
Kirkland and the others. What if her cousin was right about the
arsonist being a member of the Noble family? Would Ron tell her the
truth? Her gut told her she should trust him.
He’d have to be
crazy to come to me for help if his relative started the fire that
killed my parents.

She needed to talk to someone. Her cousins
were out of the question—they’d tell her not to trust him and hire
her own detective. The appointment with Dr. Reuben was days away,
not soon enough for her. That left her parents. First thing
tomorrow, she’d stop by the cemetery for a heart to heart.

Sighing, Ashley placed the phone down,
dragged her body from the stool and headed upstairs. The phone
startled her when it rang just as she stepped into her bedroom
area.

She picked it up, flopped on the bed and
mumbled a tired, “Yes.”

“Ashley. Can you talk?”

Her body jerked to a sitting position, energy
spiking through her. “Ron?”

“Sorry to call so soon. Is your cousin still
there?”

Should she trust Ron? “No, he just left.
What’s going on?”

“Did you mean it? About hypnosis?”

The very thought filled her with fear, yet
she knew it had to be done. If the rumors were true, someone killed
her parents. She’d want justice. “Yes, I want to go ahead with
it.”

A cheerful laugh came from Ron. “That’s
great. Thank you. I know it was a difficult decision, so I really
appreciate it.”

She smiled, absorbing his excitement. “You
don’t need to thank me. I want to know what happened that night
too, especially if the rumors are true.” Should she ask him about
what her cousin told her? No, she’d play it by the ear. If he
wasn’t forthcoming, she’d walk, hire her own detective. “Uh, Ron,
did you mean what you said about being there when I do it?”

“Of course. I told you, I may not know much
about hypnotherapy, but I’m willing to learn. I’ll do a little
research before we meet on Saturday.”

Just knowing someone had her back gave her a
modicum of relief, even if it was someone she wasn’t sure she
should trust. But to completely ease her mind, she’d need to know
everything Ron’s investigator friend discovered as the
investigation progressed. There was only one way to accomplish
that, be joined at the hip with the gorgeous firefighter. Indecent
images of the two of them popped in her head, pictures she had no
business imagining.

“Ashley, are you still there?”

Better concentrate on what I want from him,
not my physical needs. “Yes. Can I ask you something, Ron?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,
or assume it’s tied to the hypnosis thing. I’ve given it a lot of
thought, and it makes perfect sense.” God, she was babbling. Oh
here goes. “I’d like to paint you.”

There was silence on the line, then a brief
laugh from him. “Me?”

“Yes. I need to start on my erotic series and
can’t seem to find a suitable model.” That didn’t come out right.
“I’m not saying you’re my fall back guy, you understand. It’s just
that you have a perfect body and face.” She realized how what she
said could be misconstrued and her face heated. “Perfect for
painting that is,” she corrected.

He chuckled. “Perfect body. I like that.”

Oh, the arrogant man. She flopped back on her
back, sucked in her bottom lip and harangued the ceiling.
Come
on, say yes. Don’t make me beg. “
Can you do it?”

“You’re talking about nude paintings,
right?”

The image of him without a stitch on flashed
in her head. Ashley licked her lips, anticipation coursing through
her. She had to swallow first before saying, “Semi. You know,
pants, shorts, silk draped over your hips…tasteful but erotic. I
know it’s asking a lot and you’ve never modeled, but I promise to
make it effortless. I’ll take lots of photographs and work mainly
from them. We’ll only do a few sittings. You won’t have to pose
longer than thirty minutes at a given time.” When he didn’t say
anything, she added, “Come on, Ron. Consider it a favor from one
friend to another. Remember? You did say we were friends. I promise
I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” His voice
was a smoky baritone.

Letting you warm me and my bed.
Ashley’s eyes widened with shock. Jeez, what was happening to her?
Granted it had been a while since she dated or had sex. Still, she
didn’t hop in bed with just anyone, especially she didn’t
trust.

“Ashley? Are you still there?”

His sexy voice brought her back to the
present. “I’ll take you out to dinner every time you sit for
me.”

“Sorry, I’m old fashioned. When with a woman,
I pick up the tab.”

Cute, but very Neanderthal. “How about a
home-cooked meal?”

“That has possibilities. How many weeks are
we talking about here?”

“A couple, three tops.” His friend should be
done with the investigation by then.

“You want my body bad, don’t you?”

She shook her head.
The man gives a new
meaning to the word arrogant.
“Just want to paint it, Noble. If
you can’t handle it….”

“I can handle anything you dish out, babe.
How about you let me decide what taking my clothes off is
worth?”

His smooth, sensual tone sent a shiver up her
spine. This was bad. She’d never reacted to a man this fast. It was
his fault for pulling that seductive move on her just before her
cousin arrived. It was giving her ideas. “As long as it’s within
reason.”

“I’ve been told I’m a reasonable man. When do
you want me to start?”

“Saturday morning okay? About seven? You were
still planning on dropping off your grandmother’s pictures,
right?”

“Yeah. I have a previous engagement the night
before, so I can’t promise to make it by seven, but I’ll try. I’ll
call you if I’m running late. Oh, just a second.” Ashley could hear
a woman’s voice in the background, then he came back on the line.
“I’ll see you in two days, Ashley.”

Ashley hung up the phone and grinned at the
ceiling. Yes! She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to model
for her. Now all she had to do was control her wayward hormones
when around him. Baron’s words, a new woman on his arm every week,
floated in her head. Those words should keep her grounded.

She looked at the clock on her bedside
drawers and jumped off the bed. She’d better hit the showers before
her cousins descended on her.

***

“Ash? Where are you?” Her cousin’s voice
reached her upstairs thirty minutes later.

Dang, they were early. Ashley poked her head
out of the bathroom door and yelled, “Upstairs. Be down in a sec.”
She dried herself, wrapped the towel around her and walked into her
bedroom. “Is Jade with…,” her cousin’s head appeared at the top of
the stairs, “you?”

“No. Something came up.” Faith bit off a
piece of an asparagus tip and propped her tall model-thin frame
against the stair rail, her short hair dyed a crazy red color. “She
works too hard, but her vacation starts this weekend. We could join
her at the beach house for a girls’ night out.”

Ashley threw her a disgusted look. “That’s
what this was supposed to be. Besides, can’t afford to take a break
now. I’ve got the murals to finish.” Then there was Ron and his
investigation. Ron and his perfect body. Possibilities and
probabilities.

“I’m starved,” Ashley blurted out. Forcing
her mind to concentrate on food, she pulled on a floral dress over
her camisole, hugged her cousin and muttered, “Let’s go stuff
ourselves.” Maybe then she would stop thinking about him.

“Sounds good,” Faith said, following her down
the stairs.

“What did you bring?”

“A little bit of everything—lemon-herb
flounder rolls, scallops Dijon, braised artichokes, oyster
hushpuppies, crab cakes, asparagus and a bottle of Chardonnay. So
what’s up?” Faith stopped beside her at the kitchen counter. “You
look as though you’d like to commit murder.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Faith raised her eyebrows. “Nina Nobles?”

“Please,” Ashley answered derisively. But she
felt Faith’s curious gaze on her, as she pulled out food-filled
Styrofoam containers from the white paper bag. “That woman has
issues. I wouldn’t waste any thoughts on her.” It wasn’t bad as far
lies went.

Faith shot her a skeptical glance.
“Yeah.”

Okay, so she wasn’t convincing, but that
didn’t mean they had to discuss her feelings towards Ron’s mother.
“By the way, who appointed you my guardian angel?” She jabbed an
asparagus tip in Faith’s direction. “Telling Baron of all people to
check on me? He came here acting big brotherly, offering unwanted
advice and—”

“Interrupted something with the handsome
playboy Ron Nobles.” Faith wiggled her eyebrows naughtily.

Ashley blew out an explosive breath. Oh, she
was going to seal Baron’s mouth with super glue.

“You’ve been busy, woman. Is he as fast as
they say?” Faith added.

“Nothing was going on,” she answered through
gritted teeth. She scooped food and dumped it on her plate. Was she
the only one cursed with meddling relatives? Times like this, she
wanted to disown the whole bunch of them. “We were having a
business
discussion.”

“So I heard. I’m amazed he’s agreed to model
for you, though.” Faith retrieved two wine glasses from the
cupboard above the counter and turned to add, “I heard the man is
inaccessible except when he calls the shots. That he’ll have a
woman in the sack faster than she can say her last name. Never
sticks around for the sheets to cool, but,” she gave Ashley a
feline smile, “he gives the best—”

“I don’t want to know,” Ashley screeched. How
had they moved from discussing food to what Ron did with women?
Best what? Her temperature shot up a notch just thinking about what
Ron could do with his mouth.

“I meant to say parting gifts, sweetie,”
Faith said dryly, opening their chilled Chardonnay. “I hear he’s a
very generous man. So, how good is he?”

“How would I know?” But she’d wanted to taste
him so bad earlier. If her cousin hadn’t arrived, she’d know for
sure.

Faith rolled her eyes, carrying their glasses
and the bottle of Chardonnay to the coffee table. “He’s your next
model. You can’t use him unless he can perform.”

“How Ron performs has nothing to do with why
he’s modeling for me. Sheesh, woman, get your mind off sex, will
you?”

Faith stared at her with rounded eyes, then
burst out laughing. “I’ve got…to meet…this man,” she managed to say
between giggles. “You’re tripping over your hormones, girl.”

Ashley glared at her, then a giggle escaped
her as well. Faith was right. Lust had abducted her mind and taken
it south. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ron naked. He would be
removing clothes to pose for her, not for lovemaking. Somehow she
must make her mind…no, make her hormones understand that before
Saturday.

“I meant how he performs as a model, silly.
You always test your models to see if they can follow directions
without bitching or sit still for at least an hour.”