Page 43 of Master of Pleasure (Lessons From the Rack 3)

The older man was dark to Terrence’s light, yet even with his dark hair and eyes, his expression was friendly. Though not as friendly as his wife’s.

“Veronica.” He held out his hand. “Lennox MacLure.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and then looked at Terrence. “Find out anything?”

Terrence nodded. “Lennox knows them.”

Before she could recover from her shock long enough to ask how that was possible, Lennox shook his head.

“I don’t know them personally,” Lennox explained. “I know who they work for.”

“I thought most paparazzi were freelance?” Ronnie asked.

“They aren’t paparazzi,” Lennox replied. “They’re more local men. From Seattle. I don’t think they’ll be back here anytime soon. Not if they want to keep their jobs. I own the building the company they work for rents.”

Inexplicably, her body processed his words quicker than her brain. She was trembling when he finished speaking.

“Veronica.” Mariela rushed to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Veronica took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knew was coming and refusing to look at Terrence. “Local?” She directed her question to Lennox. “How long is the drive from Seattle to Portland?”

“About three hours.”

Her stomach dropped to her knees. “And flight time?”

“Just under an hour.” Lennox frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“They could have been here all night,” she said.

“Probably so if the number of cigarette butts is any indication.” Lennox turned to his wife. “Which reminds me, can you grab me a garbage bag? I want to go pick up the ones I can before the wind scatters them. I should have made the four of them stay and do it, but I wanted them off my property more than anything.”

“They would have taken pictures.” She still couldn’t look at Terrence.

“I’m sure they did,” Lennox continued, oblivious to Ronnie’s turmoil. “But unless you were swinging from the light fixtures or having wild monkey sex against the picture window, they wouldn’t be able to take any of you.”

He obviously meant for the statement to be funny, and when it fell flat, he looked from Veronica to Terrence and back again, his face contorting as understanding dawned. “Fuck.”

Chapter 22

TERRENCE

“Ididn’t see anything,” Terrence said, prompting Ronnie to look at him for the first time since he returned inside with Lennox. “I looked.”

“How well?” Ronnie tossed back.

“Well enough to know there wasn’t anyone standing outside taking pictures of us.”

“Notus! Me!” She all but yelled. “There is no us. The only pictures they’d have been able to get would be of me.”

She was right, and he knew it. He also knew if he could do the night before over, he would. Not that he’d have passed up the opportunity to fuck her. Hell, no. But he wouldn’t take her against the window, that was for damn sure. Maybe he’d have had her bend over the arm of a chair or even one of the sofas from the room Mariela lovingly called the salon. Hell, he’d have taken her in bed.

Anywhere except in front of the window. She’d damn near ripped his heart out earlier when she brought up the different reactions people would have to a picture of them last night. Damn near ripped it out because she’d been right. There was a double standard. It was unfair. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Such a picture would earn him slaps on the back and winks from friends and calls of “Way to go, man” from strangers when they passed him on the streets. That would not be the reaction Ronnie could expect to receive from the same picture. She’d have to deal with whispers behind her back, judgmental looks, and condescending attitudes—at a minimum.

“You’re right,” he told her. “And I’m sorry. I should have made a different decision last night. Picked a different spot. But I need you to believe that I did look out on the beach and it was empty.”

The curt nod she gave him of silent understanding wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

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