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
