Isabel Sharpe - Nothing to Hide

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ALLIE’S EYES SHOT open in the dark. What the hell was that? The mattress had moved. She swore it had.

It moved again.

Erik.

She was going to kill him.

No, torture him, and then kill him.

Of all the sleazy....

She tore out her earplugs, unaware the storm had gotten so bad. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight?

Lightning provided what she needed: a view of Erik, in bed next to her! The jerk!

She didn’t think twice, turned and shoved him with her feet as hard as she could. He shot off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor.

“Ow!”

Served him right. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to pull?”

“Nothing!”

“For God’s sake, Erik,” she shouted. Honestly. The only thing stupider than a horny guy was...an amoeba.

“I’m not Erik,” he bellowed. A flash of lightning showed that he’d stood up. He wasn’t wearing anything. And he wasn’t Erik.

Jeez-o-Pete. The Meyer slimeball brothers. What had Jonas thought? A few friendly emails meant he could just sneak into her bedroom and—

She blinked, her brain catching up to her eyeballs. What a great body.

“What are you doing here? You’re not even supposed to be here. Especially not naked!”

The rain slacked off abruptly, leaving her last word shrieked into relative silence.

“Allie.” Lightning showed him holding the bedspread over his best bits. “I didn’t know you were in here. I came to the cottage so I wouldn’t bother you and Erik, arriving at the big house so late.”

Her breath was still coming fast. She didn’t know when she’d experienced such a huge adrenaline rush, first fear, then anger. So it took a while for his words to sink in. To process them. To make them appear possible. The rain calmed further.

“Just hang on. Let me get dressed and find a light.”

She waited, trying to understand what had happened. She’d been asleep. Had woken up, needing to use the bathroom. Had trouble finding it, trouble using it in the total darkness. Made her way carefully back, annoyed at the lightning for holding off when she needed its brilliance. She’d gotten back into bed and sensed him when he moved.

She heard a thud, followed by a curse. Allie grinned savagely in the dark, still shaky and breathless. Served him right. “Having fun?”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks. I’m sure I can just hobble for the rest of my life. Hold on, there’s a kerosene lamp over here somewhere.”

Long pause. Another thud. Another curse. Allie snorted. This sounded like a Three Stooges movie.

“You don’t have to enjoy my pain.”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

“There.” A glimmer as he struck a match, then fed the flame to the wick of a kerosene lamp and replaced the chimney. A soft glow filled the room and showed that he was now wearing jeans. And that he was even more gorgeous than she remembered, with Erik’s blue eyes and strong chin, but darker hair, thicker and curling.

No, no. Until he proved he didn’t deserve her fury and outrage, she could not risk melting into lust.

“So.” She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing he wasn’t getting his second view of her with advanced bedhead and no makeup, wearing a shapeless sleep shirt. “What happened?”

“My dinner appointment tonight canceled, I texted Erik that I was coming. I arrived, came up here, got into bed and you joined me.” He lifted his hands and let them slap down on his thighs. Long, solid, very nice thighs. Not that she was looking. “Nice to see you again, by the way.”

“Well...oh.” What was she supposed to do with that story? So devoid of evil or plot or menace of any kind. Almost disappointing.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Allie. If it’s any consolation, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you next to me. I thought I was alone in here, had started drifting off, listening to the rain, then the lightning flashed and guess what?” He mimed comic terror, clutching his chest, mouth hanging open, eyes bulging with shock.

Allie smiled unwillingly and shrugged, her breathing slowing down. “Well, I guess it’s just a big, weird mess.”

“I guess.” He was standing by the bed watching her, hands on his hips, jeans slung low, chest bare. She hugged herself more tightly, hoping she was covering her nipples adequately because they were reaching for him like baby birds for Mama.

The silence stretched. She had a sudden fantasy of him lunging for her, dragging her down on the bed and covering her mouth with his, her breasts with his hands, her—

“You want a beer or something?”

“Yes.” Her breath rushed out in relief. “I would love a beer or something.”

“Clarissa usually leaves some in the fridge downstairs. Let’s check it out.”

Carrying the kerosene lamp, he led the way downstairs, accompanied by a distant growl of thunder and the now-gentle patter of rain.

There was indeed beer in the refrigerator, plenty of it, plus wine, champagne, at least two kinds of cheeses, orange juice, limes and tonic. The cottage was clearly party central. Jonas opened two bottles of Bass Ale and offered Allie a glass, which she declined.

They sat at the small pale yellow table in the kitchen area with the lamp between them spreading its light surprisingly far into the room.

“Why isn’t there power in the cottage?” Allie took a sip of her beer. She generally preferred a lighter brew, but right now the Bass was seriously working for her. Probably the circumstances. Undoubtedly the man. “Wait, and if there’s no electricity, how is there a refrigerator?”

“It runs on gas, like the stove and water heater. My great-grandfather wired the big house for electricity but was stubborn on keeping this place ‘pure.’ Grandma Bridget felt the same way when she inherited it, and it just stayed that way. I like it.”

“I do, too. It’s sort of romantic.”

He chose that moment to put down his beer and meet her eyes. “It is.”

Allie had trouble breathing. What was it about him? The dim light, the smooth gold of his skin out of which his blue eyes blazed, the fact that he was incredibly handsome and hot and she’d just seen him naked? Yeah, that might be it.

Ulp. She needed to break the silence, but her mind had gone blank. She could only sit there gawking stupidly at him.

“So, are we okay with everything?”

“Oh.” Allie brought herself out of her daze. “Well, sort of.”

“I know.” He shook his head, looking perplexed. “I’m not straight on some of it, either. Where were you before you got into bed with me?”

“Bathroom. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t know you were there until the lightning showed you.”

She narrowed her eyes skeptically over her beer, which was already half-gone. “I climbed into bed with you, and you didn’t notice?”

“It was dark. The proverbial couldn’t-see-my-hand-in-front-of-my-face dark.”

“The mattress must have bounced.”

“I felt nothing.” He gestured toward her, up and down. “You’re a wee thing.”

Allie snorted. “Come on.”

“Okay.” Jonas pushed back his chair and stood. He narrowed his eyes, which made him look bad-boy fierce and even sexier. “You don’t believe me? Come on. We’ll reenact it.”

“No, no...”

“Look, my honor is on the line here.” He picked up the lamp and headed for the stairs.

Allie hesitated a moment, then left with the choice of being abandoned in a dark, unfamiliar room versus being upstairs in a bedroom with a god among men, she followed him.

She was not stupid.

“Lie down.” He set the lamp on the bedside table and pointed to the bed. “Here, where I was.”

“Fine.” Allie lay on the edge of the mattress.