Free Shades of Desire by Virna Depaul Page B

guarantee it won’t be my best work.”
    Melissa laughed, too, and leaned back, her shoulders loosening and her head tilting to the side. “His best work can’t match your worst, Nat.”
    “Hmm.” That’s it, Natalie thought with excitement. That’s the look I want. She took several more pictures.
    “Like this?” Melissa asked, sensing Natalie’s mood. Proving once again why they’d always made a great team.
    “That’s it. No, wait.” Knowing there was nothing standing between her and Melissa, Natalie walked forward and reached out, her hand hovering near Melissa’s waist. “May I?” she asked
    “Of—of course.”
    Natalie placed a gentle hand on Melissa’s lower back, smiling encouragingly. “Arch your back. See how it brings the shoulders up? Good. Stay like that. Just like that.”
    Natalie stepped back until she was several feet away, the shot already captured in her mind. She pressed the button once. Twice. “Perfect,” she murmured. “That’s perfect.”
    Her blood was buzzing with joy. With victory.
    She’d hesitated before asking Melissa to set up the equipment. She’d started taking pictures cautiously and had tried to control her excitement, afraid where it might take her. Yet it had all come back to her, feeling more natural than breathing. And she knew she’d gotten the shots she wanted. Depending on how she framed them, the gray blobs she saw could be changed into something more. Something richer, with a deeper meaning that others might see, too. Something almost…colorful.
    “Oh, Natalie.”
    Natalie froze at the sadness in Melissa’s voice. She lowered her camera and straightened.
    “What is it?”
    “You look just like you used to when taking pictures. You look happy.”
    Her friend’s voice cracked with emotion. Slowly, the euphoria that had swept through her body faded, and she pictured Melissa, frozen forever in her mind as she’d looked just months ago, the magenta streaks in her hair suddenly reminding her of blood staining a pristine white sheet.
    Frowning, Natalie shook her head, and the image vanished. “Things are getting better. I’m as tough as I used to be. I mean, I held my own with Agent McKenzie, after all. You would have been proud of me.” How would Special Agent McKenzie react if she wanted to photograph him? If she wanted to touch his waist and adjust his posture so she could capture his strong, masculine body to its best advantage?
    “You bet I would have been proud,” Melissa said a little too loudly, her words sounding a bit forced, as well. “Anyway, don’t mind me. I’ve just missed you so much. When I saw—” She cried out. “That’s right! I didn’t even tell you. The Plainville Post ran a couple of your photographs last week. Did you see—”
    Natalie ignored her friend’s moan of embarrassment at her poor choice of words. “Really? Which ones?”
    “They were taken at the farmers’ market.”
    Natalie nodded but instantly remembered the crack of her camera hitting pavement. The feeling of being trapped in a menacing darkness, so different from the kind she’d imagined sharing with Agent McKenzie. Other than that moment, she had very little memory of attending the farmers’ market that day. She remembered arriving and starting to walk. Taking a couple of pictures. But then things were a blank until she’d felt the pain behind her eyes, experienced her vision shorting out, and then felt pain again when she’d tried to move.
    She’d bumped into one person after another, their surprised exclamations and questions of concern sounding like alarm bells, virtually deafening her, and she’d ended up falling and knocking her head against the pavement, causing her to lose consciousness. When she’d woken up, she’d been in a hospital emergency room, even more disoriented by the medicinal scents and the moans of pain from others around her. Her head had filled with memories of her mother. Drugs. Restraints. The nurses and doctors had