Hidden Desires Read Online Free PDF Page B

that smelled of strawberries. Nothing to do with the way her firm, round ass had looked in that flimsy thong…
    The computer beeped, rerouting his train of thought. Travis’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he navigated through the police station’s database. After a few minutes, he found what he was looking for, and scrawled the name and address on a notepad.
    “Jenny, could you get me the business address for Rachel Foster? Should be listed under Rachel Foster Designs,” he said into the intercom.
    “Give me a second, Trav,” his assistant’s voice crackled back. He waited. “All right, here you go.” Travis wrote down the address on the same pad and reached for the sports coat draped over the back of his chair.
    He left the office and paused in front of Jenny’s desk. “I’ll be out of the office for a couple of hours.
    Hold my calls.”

    “Sorry, did I prick you?” Rachel asked as the tall, willowy model in front of her squirmed.
    Misty grinned. “Don’t worry. You can prick me as much as you like. It’s for the sake for fashion, after all.”
    Rachel smiled. It was nice working with such an easy-going model. Mannequins were good for initial fittings, but it was difficult to see how well a bra worked on a pair of plastic breasts, so part of her job required her to alter designs on a real-life woman. Real-life women, however, could be quite difficult, and Rachel had worked with a few models who had made her want to scream. Thank God for Misty.
    Misty was twenty-two and she’d been working for Rachel for six months. She never complained about having to stand for long periods of time, remained unfazed by a pinprick here and there, and boasted an outrageous sense of humor that had Rachel’s stomach in stitches.
    “So, Suzanna told me you were modeling yourself yesterday,” Misty remarked, her blue eyes twinkling. “Walton’s, huh?”
    Embarrassment flushed Rachel’s cheeks. She shot a dirty look at her assistant, who sat at a nearby desk studying fabric samples. “What part of never repeat this didn’t you understand, Suzanna?” she called.
    Suzanna shrugged. “It was too funny not to share, boss. Misty and I almost wet our pants laughing about it.”
    Rachel shook her head. “Good to know my life is so amusing to you two.” Misty laughed and Rachel felt the urge to prick her again. On purpose, this time.
    “I would have paid to see you standing in the men’s department in your underwear,” Misty remarked, still chuckling. “Maybe on my next audition I’ll mention the story to the casting director and suggest they turn it into a movie.”
    Rachel pointed the needle at the model/struggling actress. “You do and I’ll tell your agent you’re too difficult to work with and that you should be a hand model.” Misty shrugged. “Hand models make a lot of money, you know.” Rachel rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the pink satin bra. Normally, she loved the good-humored banter the three women engaged in. Her studio was located in a downtown loft, which consisted of a reception area in the front, an office in the back and one spacious work room in between. Coming to work every day was a joy rather than a chore. She loved the bright, airy space, the mannequins scattered around, and the piles of lace, satin and other sensual fabrics she worked with. But most of all, she loved the company. Suzanna had been working for her for four years, and the two women got along splendidly. And now that Misty was around, laughter always filled the office.
    But today, all the kidding and laughing was distracting. Yesterday’s conversation with Travis still ran through her mind like a broken record. He was going to help her find out what happened to Carrie, and although the truth called out to her, a part of her wished she could still blame Travis for it all. It had been so easy, so comforting, having someone to blame. That way, she could let go of the memories and try to move on. But now that she