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      She blinked. So much for a romantic moment. “Gee, thanks.”

      “You’re welcome. Stay right there, and I’ll go get some towels.”

      “Towels?” she echoed.

      He was already walking toward a large armoire on the far side of the bed.

      “To dry off. You’ll probably want to get out of those wet things. I’ll call for a tow truck, but it may take a while.”

      “You want me to take off my clothes?”

      He opened the armoire and pulled out an armful of fluffy towels. “You are dripping on my floor.”

      She glanced down, but the puddle beneath her made little sense. Naked. She was going to be naked in Austin Lucas’s house. Her. Little Miss Ordinary was going to spend the afternoon naked with the devil. She didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or run for the door.

      “Rebecca?”

      She stared at him, trying to focus. “Yes?”

      “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t fall and hit your head or anything, did you?”

      No, I’m just naturally stupid around you, she thought, knowing she could never admit that aloud. “I’m a little tired,” she said, then realized it was the truth. This had been the longest and worst week of her life.

      He moved from the armoire to a closet concealed in the wall. With a push of his hand, a hidden door swung open. He reached inside and pulled out a white terry-cloth robe, then started walking toward her.

      She held her breath. When he was standing in front of her, he handed her everything. She glanced at the robe. It looked new. As if to confirm her guess, he reached for a sleeve and pulled off a tag dangling from one end.

      “A gift from a friend,” he said by way of explanation.

      A woman friend, who else? She found it hard to believe a guy would give another guy a bathrobe. No, some foolish female had bought this for Austin expecting him to wear it and think of her.

      “The bathroom is through there,” he said, pointing to the half-open door at the end of the loft. “You look cold. Maybe you should take a hot shower to warm up.”

       Maybe you could kiss me and warm me up.

      Rebecca felt her eyes widen in panic. Oh, please, God, let me not have spoken that thought aloud. She held her breath and waited.

      Austin’s eyes gave nothing away, and the expression on his face didn’t change at all. Slowly she let her breath out. She’d only thought it. Danger. The man was pure danger.

      “Thanks for everything,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be such a bother.”

      His gaze flickered over her face. “No problem. While you’re taking a shower, I’ll call for a tow. Then you can tell me what brought you out here in the first place.”

      She nodded and continued to stare at his face. She wanted to see him smile again, but she couldn’t think of anything funny to say.

      She felt a little push on her back, as if he was urging her to get on her way. She took one step, then another, heading for the bathroom. This was really happening to her. She was actually in his house. Austin’s house. No one would believe this. Of course she wasn’t going to tell anyone. Okay, maybe Travis and Elizabeth. She sighed and hugged the towels close to her chest. Maybe not even them. It was all too wonderful, too precious. A dream come true.

      As she reached the bathroom door, her memory kicked in. Austin had said he didn’t know why she’d come by. In her stupor, she’d forgotten to tell him the reason for her visit. She shook her head.

      “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you why I stopped by,” she said, turning back toward the center of the room. “I’m sure you heard that—”

      She stopped in midsentence and stared. Austin stood beside the large bed. He’d already stripped off his shirt and was in the process of unbuttoning his wet jeans. As she looked at him, his hands slowed. His chest was bare, gleaming in the dim afternoon light. Her gaze followed the sprinkling of hair on his chest as it arrowed down to the open waistband of his worn jeans. From where she was standing, it didn’t look as if he was wearing anything underneath them.

      She swallowed hard and tried to speak. Nothing. She urged herself to turn and keep walking toward the bathroom, but her feet wouldn’t budge. It would have taken an act of God to move her, and everyone knew Austin Lucas was only the devil.

       Chapter 2

      Rebecca looked as stunned as a doe caught in headlights and as wet as a drowned rat. Her long dark hair hung in wet curls, draping over her shoulders and dripping onto the floor. She opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out. She tried again, made a squeaking noise, then fled into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

      Austin chuckled. He finished stripping off his wet jeans and tossed them onto the floor. He reached into the closet and pulled out another pair. He’d barely stepped into the first leg when he heard a loud shriek from the bathroom. After dropping his jeans, he sprinted to the door and knocked.

      “Rebecca? What happened?”

      There was a low moan from the other side of the door.

      “Rebecca? Damn it, open up. Did you hurt yourself?”

      “No. I just…”

      He heard footsteps and the door opened a crack. He could see part of her face and one brown eye. Mascara collected under her lower lashes. Any color on her face had long been washed away. Her dress hung damply from her shoulders. She was a mess. The one eye he could see closed briefly.

      “I just saw myself in the mirror. Now I know why you were smiling so much.”

      The tension left his body. “Oh, that.”

      Her eye opened. “Yeah, that. I’ll just be a minute here, while I try to repair the damage.”

      “Take your time.”

      “I’m going to need it,” she mumbled.

      Her gaze drifted down from his face to his chest, then lower. She blinked and her eye got bigger. At that moment he realized he’d dropped the dry jeans he’d been pulling on. Her gasp was audible.

      “I… I… Oh, heaven help me!” The door slammed shut.

      Austin shook his head and headed back across the room. He couldn’t have been the first naked man she’d ever seen, but she’d been staring as if he was. He slipped into his jeans and buttoned the fly, then grabbed a shirt and shrugged it on. He didn’t bother fastening it.

      His bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor as he made his way to the kitchen and started coffee. He rummaged around in a bottom cupboard until he found a bottle of whiskey, then poured a half inch into both coffee cups. If nothing else, the liquor would chase away the rest of her chill.

      The sound of the storm increased. Bolts of lightning arced across the darkening sky. Rumbles of thunder shook the building. He stared out the window at the rain and the flashes of light. Behind him he could hear the gurgle of the coffeepot and the faint sound of the shower. He tried not to picture the woman standing under the warm spray or the way she would slowly lather her slender body.

      He rubbed his hand over his face, but the action did nothing to chase away the tiredness. He’d been tired for days now, but he knew it had nothing to do with the hours he was putting in. Everything was changing and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

      The coffeepot gave a last hiss and then was silent. Pipes rattled as the shower was turned off. He stepped back and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the door. He knew she would come out eventually.

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