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Then, as though in answer to her prayer, the power blinked back on. When her vision adjusted, she found herself staring at a bare male chest. What in the world? Her wide-eyed gaze dropped farther past his trim waist but screeched to a halt upon the discovery of this stranger’s only article of clothing—navy boxer shorts.
This night was definitely getting stranger by the second.
She couldn’t resist a second glance at her sexy intruder. He definitely wasn’t a kid, having filled out in all the right places. She’d only ever seen defined muscles like his in the glossy pages of magazines, and this guy would qualify with his washboard abs. He must be around her age, maybe a little older.
When her gaze rose up over his six feet plus of sexiness, she met a hard glint in his blue-gray eyes. He obviously wasn’t any happier about discovering her than she was of stumbling across him.
“What are you doing here?” The stranger’s deep voice held a note of authority as though he were used to commanding people’s attention.
“Wondering why you’re standing in my kitchen.”
The frown lines on his face etched even deeper. “This is your place?”
Technically no, but she wasn’t about to explain her unusual circumstances to Mr. Oh-So-Sexy. She merely nodded, affirming her right to be there.
His brow arched in disbelief.
Who was he to pass judgment? When she pressed her hands to her hips, she realized he wasn’t the only one scantily dressed. With the hem of her worn but comfy shirt pinched between her fingers, she pulled it down as far as the material would allow. Instinct told her to run and put on something more modest. But in order to do that, she’d have to cross his path. Not a great idea.
Her gaze strayed back to the doorway. Sooner or later she’d have to make her move. She wanted to believe he wasn’t there to hurt her—wanted to accept the notion that there was some crazy explanation for the nearly naked man standing in front of her, but her mind drew a blank. She glanced back at him, taking in his blondish-brown wavy hair tousled as though he’d just woken up. And his lack of apparel left no room for doubt that he was unarmed.
“Don’t look so panicked. I have no intention of hurting you.” His deep voice was as smooth and rich as hot fudge. “I just want some answers.”
She stuck out her chin. “That makes two of us.”
“I guess you should start explaining.” He looked at her expectantly.
Kate crossed her arms. He wasn’t going to boss her around. She had every right to be here. Then an ominous thought came to her: Who was to say Connie hadn’t made a similar offer to this man? But wouldn’t it have crossed her friend’s mind that this would create an awkward situation to have two strangers—a man and a woman—alone in the house?
As she kept a wary eye on him, she noticed something familiar about him. The thought niggled at her. She couldn’t put her finger on where she’d seen him before, probably because the only thing keeping her on her feet right now was adrenaline. She needed sleep. Desperately. But how would she get this man to put on some clothes and go away?
* * *
“No more stalling.” Lucas Carrington’s patience was worn razor thin. Tired of talking in circles, he cut to the chase. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”
Her lush lips pursed as her eyes narrowed. “My name is Kate Whitley and I have every right to be here—”
“Impossible. More likely you’re homeless and broke in here seeking shelter from the storm.”
Kate’s chin tilted up and her unwavering brown gaze met his. “I’m not homeless. In fact, I’m an interior designer and a darned good one, too.”
She did have an innocent girl-next-door look about her, but he knew all too well that things were never quite what they seemed. “Are you trying to tell me you broke in here because you had this overwhelming desire to redecorate the place?”
Her thin shoulders drew back into a firm line. Her threadbare cartoon T-shirt pulled snugly across her pert breasts. He swallowed hard. Okay, so maybe his first assessment of her hadn’t been quite right. Gorgeous. Sexy. Curvaceous. Those were much more fitting descriptions.
She continued to glare at him, seemingly oblivious to the fact her demeanor was more alluring than intimidating. And like some hormone-fueled teenager, he found himself unable to turn away from her tempting curves.
“There’s no need to sound so condescending.” Her voice filled with exasperation.
With effort, his gaze lifted to meet hers. “I’m calling the police. They can deal with you.” But there was a wrinkle in his plan—his cell phone was in the other room and the landline in the kitchen had been disconnected ages ago.
“Go right ahead.”
Her confident tone surprised him. Did she expect her beauty to get her out of this mess? Or was she attempting to pull a con job on him? Not that any of it mattered. He didn’t have a problem calling her bluff.
“You seem fairly certain you won’t get in trouble—”
“I won’t.”
Lucas was having a hard time focusing on the conversation given that his unexpected visitor was standing in his kitchen with nothing on but a T-shirt, which clung to her shapely curves and exposed her long, long legs. He was definitely beginning to understand why she might rely on her looks. And if he kept staring, this could get embarrassing for both of them.
He forced his gaze to her face, not that it was any less distracting. Was she wearing makeup? Or was her skin naturally that smooth and creamy?
Even more troubling than how beautiful he found her was the way she reminded him too much of the past—a past that had nearly destroyed him. Not so long ago another beautiful woman had stood in that spot. She’d made him promises but ended up breaking each and every one of them. His jaw tightened. The last thing he needed was this stranger’s presence to dredge up memories he’d fought so hard to seal inside. He refused to let it happen.
Refocused and clear about his priorities, his gaze returned to her warm brown eyes. She stared directly at him. Pink stained her cheeks, but she didn’t glance away. She stepped forward, using the kitchen island as a shield. It was far too late for modesty. Her sexy form was already emblazoned upon his memory.
Stay focused. Soon she’ll be gone. One way...or the other.
He cleared his throat. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Why won’t you get in trouble?”
“I have permission to be here. Temporarily, that is. You know, while the owner is out of town.” Kate’s eyes narrowed, challenging him. She certainly was confident. He’d give her that. “And now it’s your turn to do some explaining. Who are you?”
“My name’s Lucas.”
“Well, Lucas, I assume you must know Connie, too.”
His gaze sought out hers and held it. “Connie? Is that who let you in here?”
Kate nodded as hope sparked in her eyes. “Connie Carrington.”
He had liked it better when he thought Kate was a squatter looking for a warm place to sleep. “To be sure, describe Connie.”
“Short. Brunette. Sixtyish. Very sweet and generous. She has a friendly smile and volunteers at East Riverview Hospital.”
“That’s her.” It still didn’t prove Kate was telling the whole truth, but it was sure looking that way.
“Here’s the thing, Connie obviously offered me this place first. And I don’t think us sharing the house is going to work.”
How dare this woman—this stranger—kick him out of his own house? He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind but then closed it. Obviously she didn’t recognize him, a small wonder after that ridiculous magazine article earlier in the month had named him Bachelor of the Year. His quiet life hadn’t been the same since then.
Kate was a refreshing change from the headline seekers and the husband hunters. Maybe if this were a different time under different circumstances, he’d welcome this beautiful intrusion. But right now all he wanted was to be left alone.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows. Kate jumped. She obviously wasn’t as calm as she’d like him to believe. Perhaps they both needed a moment to gather their thoughts. He certainly could use a minute or two to tamp down his unwanted attraction.
“This conversation would be a little less awkward with some more clothes on. I’ll be right back.” He started out of the room, then as an afterthought he called over his shoulder, “Don’t go anywhere.”
Lucas strode from the room. His teeth ground together. He didn’t want this woman here. He never had company and he preferred it that way. In fact, the less time he spent here, the better he liked it. When he’d asked his aunt to look after the place, he’d never expected her to turn it into a B and B. What in the world had she been thinking?
Maybe his aunt had planned for him to never find out about Kate. After all, he wasn’t even supposed to be home for another week. But one untimely setback after another at the future site of Carrington Gems’ expansion in San Francisco had ground construction to a halt.
Still, it was more than losing money hand over fist due to bureaucratic red tape that had him cutting his trip short. He put a stop to his thoughts. He wasn’t ready to contemplate the devastating situation he’d faced before catching his cross-country flight home.
And the last thing he needed was to return home to find a half-dressed woman making herself comfortable in his house. The image of her bare legs teased his mind, clouding his thoughts.
He cursed under his breath and pulled on the first pair of jeans he laid his hands on. But if he was going to stay focused, his beautiful interloper needed to cover up. He grabbed a heavy robe that should modestly cover her and give him some peace of mind. With a T-shirt in hand for himself, he rushed back to the kitchen clutching both articles of clothing.
“Here.” He held out the robe to her. “Put this on.”
Her wary gaze moved to his outstretched hand and back. It was then that he got a close-up view of her heart-shaped face and button nose. His thoughts screeched to a halt when he spied the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Sympathy welled up inside his chest. Not so long ago, he’d worn a similar look. It hadn’t happened by missing a night or two of sleep. In fact, it’d been the worst time of his life. His gut told him that Kate had a devastating story of her own.
He’d always been good at reading people. It was what helped him run Carrington Gems and hire a reliable staff. So why had he immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion about Kate?
Had his experience with his ex-wife jaded him so badly that he wasn’t even willing to give this woman the benefit of the doubt? Or was it the fact she was standing in this house—a place so filled with pain and loss?
Kate’s cold fingertips brushed over the back of his hand as she accepted the robe. His instinct was to take her hands in his and rub them until they were warm. But he resisted the temptation. She wasn’t his guest...his responsibility.
While she slipped on the robe, he stepped back, giving her some space. He pulled the shirt over his head. Now they could have a reasonable conversation.
Fully clothed, he glanced up, finding Kate’s brows furrowed as she stared at him. He followed her line of vision to a large hole in his jeans above his knee as well as the army of white smudges marking up both legs. He really should consider tossing them, but they were just so comfortable. Wait. Why should he care what this woman thought of him or his clothes? After tonight he’d never see her again.
Kate shoved up the sleeves on the robe and crossed her arms. “What do you propose we do?”
In any other situation, he’d show her to the door and wish her well. After all, she wasn’t his problem. And being drawn in by her very kissable lips and the memory of how that threadbare shirt hugged her curves was a complication in his life that he just didn’t need.
But her pale face with those dark smudges beneath her eyes dug at his resolve.
And he couldn’t dismiss the fact his aunt had sent Kate to stay here. Not that his aunt didn’t help people on a daily basis, but she knew this house was off-limits to everyone. That meant Kate was someone special. Now he really needed to speak to his aunt, but first he had to make things clear to Kate.
“There’s something you should know. This is my house.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_b9182c03-c015-5b2d-a786-20df298bc6ee)
KATE EYED UP Mr. Oh-So-Sexy’s faded T-shirt and threadbare denim. Even her ratty old jeans were in better condition. Did she look gullible enough to swallow his story that he was the owner of this mansion? That would make him wealthy. Very wealthy. And he sure didn’t look the part.
“Why should I believe you own this house?”
He frowned. “Because I’m Lucas Carrington. Connie’s nephew.”
His unwavering tone gave her pause. She studied his aristocratic nose, piercing blue eyes and sensual lips. The wheels in her mind began to spin. No wonder he seemed so familiar. During her many hours at the hospital, she’d ended up thumbing through one magazine after the other. It was within one of those stylish periodicals that she’d skimmed over an article listing this year’s most eligible bachelors.
Lucas Carrington had been named Bachelor of the Year. And he had been by far the steamiest candidate on the list. And that had been before she’d garnered a glimpse of his ripped abs. Her mouth grew dry at the memory. She instantly squashed the thought.
The reality of the situation at last sunk in. That man—the hunk from the popular magazine—was standing in front of her in his bare feet. And she was accusing him of being an intruder. This had to be some sort of crazy, mixed-up dream.
“I see my name has rung a bell.” Smugness reflected in his captivating eyes. “Perhaps my aunt mentioned me.”
The fact he’d been holding that ace up his sleeve the whole time instead of introducing himself up front annoyed her. She wasn’t about to fold her hand so quickly—even if she had been beaten already.
She conjured up her best poker face. “Actually, Connie went to great pains not to mention you. She merely said the owner was out of town for an extended period. In fact, when I saw the condition of this place, I didn’t think anyone had lived here in years.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek as his gaze moved away. “I only need a couple of the rooms. Even when I’m in town, I’m not here much.”
“I see.” What else could she say? That it was a bit strange to live in a mansion filled with cobwebs and covered in a blanket of dust? But who was she to judge? She was living out of a suitcase, and by the end of the month, she would be technically homeless. The thought of being adrift with no place to call home sent her stomach plummeting. But she could only deal with one problem at a time.
Lucas shifted uncomfortably. “Why do you keep looking at me strangely?”
“I’m trying to decide whether I should believe you. I mean, I wouldn’t expect such a wealthy man to wear...umm, that.” She pointed at his tattered jeans.
Even though she knew that he was in fact Lucas Carrington, she didn’t want to let on just yet. After all, he hadn’t readily taken her word that she wasn’t a squatter. Why not let him see what it was like not to be believed?
He shrugged. “So they’re old jeans. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t know. This could all be an act. How am I to know that you aren’t pretending to be the owner? Maybe I should call the police and let them sort this out.”
Instead of the angry response she’d been anticipating, the corners of his mouth lifted. Was that a smile? Her stomach somersaulted.
“I guess I deserve that. Wait here.” He set off in the same direction he’d gone to grab his clothes and the robe he’d loaned her.
The scorching hot image of him in those boxer shorts flashed in her mind. Her pulse kicked up a notch or two. If Lucas wasn’t already wealthy, he could make a fortune as an underwear model. She’d be first in line to buy the magazine.
Still a bit chilled, she snuggled up in the robe, noticing the fresh scent of aftershave. She lifted the plush material to her nose, unable to resist inhaling even deeper. Mmm...
“Is the robe okay?” His smooth, deep voice filled the room.
“Umm...yes.” She smoothed the lapel. “I was just admiring its...its softness.”
He nodded, but she wondered if he’d caught her getting high off his very masculine scent. No man had a right to smell that good or look that hot with his clothes on...or off.
He skirted around the kitchen island and headed for her. Kate held her ground, all the while wondering what he was up to.
“Here.” He flipped open a black wallet. “This should clear things up.”
Her fingers slid across the worn smooth leather. She really didn’t need to see his driver’s license, but she had started this, so she might as well follow through.
She glanced at the photo of a neatly groomed man in a suit and tie. Definitely Lucas, but the spiffed-up version. The funny thing was she liked him in his worn-out jeans and sloppy T-shirt as much if not more than his business persona.
“So now do you believe me?” he asked with a tone of smug satisfaction, as if he’d just one-upped her.
She didn’t like him thinking that he’d gotten the best of her.
“I don’t know.” She held the ID up beside his face, hmm-ing and hah-ing, as though trying to make up her mind. “There’s definitely a resemblance, but I’m not sure.”
He yanked the card from her hand and stared at it. “Of course it’s me! And that’s my address...this address.”
At last he’d fallen off his cool, confident edge. A smile pulled at her lips. The action felt so foreign to her after the past few stressful months, but the lightness grew, erupting into laughter. The more she laughed, the deeper Lucas frowned. It had been so long since she’d had an occasion to laugh that she didn’t want it to end. It felt so good. So liberating. So freeing.
His brow arched. “Have I amused you enough?”
