Maximum Exposure by Alison Kent - Smithson Group SG-5 10 - Maximum Exposure Page B

from every client whose case he took on.
    So far, Dustin Parks had been an exception to Finn’s bracing for the worst. But then Dustin had seemed resigned to bad news from the get-go. He was already dealing with Roland Green’s cold shoulder. Either that or he hadn’t yet managed to snag the other man’s attention at all.
    Finn sipped his coffee, on one hand admiring the way Parks was hedging his bets, on the other thinking there was a whole lot to be said for just going for it. Going for it the way Olivia Hammond did. Remembering her performance last night at the billiards lounge…
    He was having a hard time believing that she didn’t get some sort of sexual thrill out of what she did. Maybe his disbelief had a lot to do with the way he’d been poleaxed right there in his seat while she’d played peekaboo with the table of men in the club. Talk about thrilling and sexual.
    He’d been afraid of getting up and walking out of the place for the rest of the night. Every time he’d thought his erection had lain down to rest, he’d pictured Olivia in action, and the monster had come back to life with a vengeance.
    What he’d found really strange was that not for a minute had he considered acting on the urge. And that didn’t make sense in any world he’d ever lived in.
    He set his coffee mug on the table, which coordinated with both the chairs and the umbrella collapsed around its pole in the center, and reached for one of the two folders he’d brought outside.
    After opening it on his lap, he took a moment to breathe and soak in the sea breeze and sunshine before looking down. He knew what he’d see when he did. It was just that the picture in his mental viewfinder was evocative and arousing in ways the photos he’d printed from his memory card could never be.
    What Olivia had done at the club last night had been calculated and with purpose. Hot, yes, but not in the same league as what she’d done for him alone and at his command. It made all the difference in the world in how heated he grew, in his body’s physical reaction.
    Knowing she was performing for him and not for a group of strangers in a club was akin to having a woman in his bed as opposed to seeing one on screen, making love to another man. He might get off to the second, but the first? He was there, fully involved, aching, burning, tightly wound.
    He breathed through the tightness in his chest, reached for his coffee. Thing of it was, the way he responded to her also made a difference in whether or not he decided to take the job she’d offered.
    He had never in all his years of private investigation allowed himself to get involved with a client on a personal level. He had to remain impartial. Taking sides, empathizing, feeling his own need for fairness or justice or revenge…it all amounted to the same thing. He couldn’t afford to care about the outcome, only that he did his job well.
    That was his only investment. That was how he built his business, how he would see his own beach house finished. He couldn’t rely on the kindness and wealth of every stranger who hired him, and once he was done with the remodeling of his Key Largo place, he could stick close to home instead of taking on long-distance work for the extra cash.
    Speaking of extra cash…he needed to decide what to do about this job for Olivia Hammond. About taking pictures of what she did, how qualified he was, how impartial he could be. He stared down at the photo on the top of the stack, the last one he’d taken before she’d dropped her halter and bared herself completely to his gaze.
    She was teasing him, flirting with him, her eyes sparkling with the fun it was obvious she was having. And it was that same fun that had been missing when she’d performed for the not-so-knightly roundtable at the cigar and billiards lounge.
    He flipped to the second picture. She’d had her back to him, untying the sash at her waist and looking over her shoulder while she did. He knew her