The first of the photos filled the screen. With swift movements she set up enlarging the photo in ten percent increments. He looked up and scanned the room. “You have more equipment in here than before.”

“It arrived this morning.” And she’d fussed over it like a mother hen until it had been time to set off for Charley’s. She gave little thought to clothes or jewelry, but when it came to her photography and computer equipment, she spared no expense. “I numbered the pictures on the back, and they’re in the order I took them. I was using a zoom at first, before switching to a wide angle when I got closer.”

Joe peered more closely through the magnifying glass at the picture in his hand. “And you thought the shots were fired from the top of the cliff?”

“They seemed to be.” She brought up another picture, enlarged it and then began zooming in on sections along the top of the cliff. “But after the first couple I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy trying to survive.”

He looked at the screen and lowered the magnifying glass. “What’s that?” He tapped an area on the computer screen with an index finger.

“Reflection, probably.”

“Yeah, but off what?” He slid from his perch and knelt next to her.

She zoomed in on the section once, then again. Other than the spot of light he’d noted, there was nothing to see. Disappointed, she sat back in the chair. “The angle probably caught a streak of mineral in the rock. The photos before and right after this one don’t show anything.” She continued clicking on the individual photos, zooming in on sections along the top of the cliff line. It was a tedious process, made more so by her heightened awareness of the man inches away from her.

He was too close. Hadn’t she told herself that they should never get this near again? Hadn’t she told him? Apparently her hormones didn’t heed advice because they were humming to life. Which only went to prove they operated separate from good sense.

Grimly, she inched a little over in her seat, to place a bit more distance between them as she cropped a photo on the screen and enlarged it. Despite his reaction earlier when she’d set the new boundaries between them, Joe didn’t appear to be experiencing any problems by working this closely with her. She stole a glance at him, but he was once again absorbed in the stack of photos. It was a kick to the ego to see how little effect she had on him, especially since his nearness was playing havoc with her concentration.

Reid had had the same sort of focus, she recalled with a pang. Despite what went on between them personally, he had always been able to switch his attention from her to the job with an ease that had stung more than a little. Not that she needed, or wanted, a man’s undivided attention at all times. But she’d come to accept that she was never going to be as important to Reid as the story, whatever it happened to be.

It had been the love of the job that had brought them together. In her darkest moments she wondered if the story was the only real bond they shared. He’d loved her, as much as he was capable. She’d always wonder if that would’ve been enough. If it would have ever stopped feeling like little slices to the heart every time he’d shut her out, shut himself away.

She’d never had the opportunity to find out. He’d died with seventy-one others in that hotel blast and her life had never been the same.

The memory had her defenses slamming firmly in place. She’d never go through that again. It was easier, far easier, to be the one who backed away. Maybe she’d wounded Joe’s pride by being the first to point out what a mistake last night was, but she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have arrived at the same conclusion on his own.

He hadn’t exactly struck her as a man looking for a serious relationship, at any point.

Immersed in her own thoughts, she almost missed it. She’d moved on to another part of the photo she was examining when her mind caught up with her subconscious. Quickly she went back to the section she’d just zoomed in on. Patiently, Delaney readjusted the picture until she had a clear view of the portion that had caught her attention.

“What does this look like to you?”

Immediately Joe leaned over to study the screen. A hard satisfied smile crossed his lips. “A person’s forehead.”

“Exactly.” Pursing her lips, Delaney hit the command keys to print out a copy of the enlarged photo. “Like he was crouched behind that outcrop of rock up there, with only a portion of his head visible.”

“Let’s see what else you can get. It’ll be tough to identify him by his hairline.”

Delaney made a face at him but he’d already turned to leave the room. He was back a moment later with one of her kitchen chairs. “Move over.”

Although she wasn’t pleased at being ordered around in her own home, she did as he directed to avoid having him in her lap. “I didn’t notice that, even with the magnifying glass,” Joe murmured, snatching up the photo as soon as the printer finished it.

Eagerly, she brought up the next photo, taking painstaking care to enlarge the spot where the forehead had appeared in the previous picture. Nothing could be seen. Clamping down a quick surge of disappointment, she searched the rest of the photo just as carefully before bringing up the next one. She checked the clock in the corner of her computer screen. “This is going to take a while,” she pointed out. She could feel the heat emanating from Joe’s body. And it was all too easy to recall that same warmth when his bare flesh pressed against hers.

Nerve endings prickled at the memory, and her skin seemed to shrink two sizes. She needed time and distance to regain her equilibrium. It wasn’t so much to ask, was it? The last thirty-six hours had been enough to knock anyone off their stride. It didn’t mean she was weak to want a little space. It was only logical, and she would welcome a little logic in her life right about now.

“You should just let me finish this alone. It could be hours,” she stressed, as he looked at her with that fathomless gaze. “Whatever I discover, I could make copies and drop them by work. Tomorrow. You could see them first thing.”

“But if I stay I can see them now,” he pointed out reasonably. “I have a lot going on at work. I doubt you’d catch me in. And Taos made it clear that you’re a priority and that he wants me to personally check into this matter.”

For a moment she forgot her eagerness to have him gone and stared at him, dismay filling her. It hadn’t really occurred to her what it would mean to have her shooting incident dumped on top of Joe’s probably already formidable caseload. “When do you plan on sleeping?” she asked bluntly.

Something like humor crossed his expression, although he didn’t smile. “Sleep is overrated.”

Especially when beds could be used for so much more interesting things.

Shoving that thought aside, Delaney turned back to the computer. She could do this. She would. A few more hours, tops, and she’d be rid of Joe Youngblood and these pesky hormone-driven mental lapses. Then she’d concentrate on the job she’d accepted, the project that had brought her here. He wasn’t the only one with work to focus on.

She slapped at his hands when he tried to make adjustments to the picture on the screen. “Do you mind?” With a few quick commands she zoomed in on a section, and then just as quickly discarded it as useless.

“You’re touchy tonight.” His voice was too bland not to be deliberate. “Any particular reason for that?”

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she lied through her teeth. “I guess I’m just as possessive of my computer as you are of your gun.”

“And if I promise to stay away from the bullet key?”

She refused to let herself smile. “Two jokes in two days, Youngblood. Careful. Someone might think you have a sense of humor.”

They worked in silence for a time, and after a while she almost forgot to be distracted by his nearness. She’d gone through at least five more photos before they both stared at a section of a photo and said simultaneously, “There.”