Risk Taker by Sonia Stanizzo

Chapter 5

“Wowzah!” Holly exclaimed as she burst into the bedroom. Never did she imagine while crashing in Nancy’s apartment that she’d walk in on Ethan Doyle… naked Ethan Doyle. Did he live here, too? Was this his bedroom? Surely Nancy wouldn’t let her stay in her son’s room? The bedside lamp cast a dim light over the feminine space. Not a man’s room. So why the hell was he creeping around? At any rate, she’d got to witness Ethan Doyle in all his naked glory. Not only was he better looking in person, his body was also pure muscle and strength. Nothing that a camera could capture. And he was right, she was peeking at him through her fingers. Who wouldn’t? And what he didn’t know was when she’d spun around to give him privacy, a mirror was placed at just the right angle to view his body undetected. She probably should feel guilty about that, but as he said, he wasn’t shy so why not? She’d never have the opportunity again. And what a surprise she’d gotten while looking at his reflection, he may not have expected company in the bathroom, he was definitely happy to see her.

Speaking of the devil, he sauntered into the bedroom, steam from the bathroom and the scent of citrusy soap trailed behind. He was shirtless and wearing the same pants he wore when he left for his date with Victoria Martin. Her gaze fell to the exposed skin. A dark sprinkle of hair fanned across a wide, firm chest. A small trail travelled down his stomach. She didn’t need to imagine what lay beneath. The image now scorched in her mind forever. And he showed no effect of being barged in on naked. Not even a hint of embarrassment.

“So, tell me, why has my mother offered you a room for the night?” The interest he’d displayed a moment ago had vanished and he now spoke to her like he was conducting an interview.

“I needed a place to stay,” she gave a vague answer.

He stroked his chin making a scratching sound on his designer stubble. There wasn’t a trimmed whisker out of place. “My mother wouldn’t let a stranger—”

“Who said I am?” Okay. She was a stranger, but he didn’t have to watch her like she was going to take off with the silverware.

A dark eyebrow rose. “I know her friends and it was the first night filming the scene with hooker number three. So, why’d she’d let you stay in her house?”

Wow, so arrogant. “Why don’t you ask her?”

He walked closer, stood in front of her and stared her down for a few long seconds, probably waiting for her to capitulate and spill the story. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“It’s late, I don’t want to wake her,” he finally said. “Don’t you have friends or family to call?”

Her cheeks heated and she shuffled her feet. “No.”

If he wanted to know why she had no one to contact, he didn’t ask. Just stared. She couldn’t quite understand his expression. Was it sympathy or judgement?

“If that’s all, I’d like to get some sleep.” She tilted her head toward the bed hoping he’d get the hint and disappear.

His gaze flicked over at the bed and then along her body. His eyes flared with interest. God, this guy gave confusing signals. She refrained from tugging the hem of the t-shirt down. It would only make him believe he’d made her uncomfortable which he’d probably enjoy. In truth, jittery nerves danced under her skin, at the heated stare aimed at her and her bare legs. Funny things stirred in her belly.

“I hope you’re not going to stand there all night because I’d like to go to bed,” she huffed. He was making the restless feeling spread down south the longer he stared.

“That’s my bed when I stay over and… you’re wearing my t-shirt.”

The way the words slid off his tongue had her wanting to crawl in bed with him and happily give him back his t-shirt. She mentally gave herself a forehead slap. What was she thinking? Clearly, she wasn’t thinking with a sensible brain. Seeing him naked had made her stupid.

“You can have the bed. You’re not having your t-shirt.” With that, she snapped up her bag off the floor, snatched a pillow from the bed, tucking it under her arm and hauled the quilt off the mattress. It trailed behind her like a tail. “Goodnight and sweet dreams,” she sarcastically threw over her shoulder. She could have sworn, she’d heard a low chuckle right before she closed the door behind her and headed to the couch.