Bared Read online

  His house.

  Damn if that didn’t have a nice ring to it.

  “Amber?”

  “Yes—” She cleared her throat and the slightly nervous little sound had his eyes narrowing. “I’m…here.”

  Christ, not again. Not Emma. He opened his mouth to demand answers, then shut it. He only had this one job left, then he was done. Finito. Finished. In light of that, he didn’t want to hear what the hell Amber and Emma were up to. He didn’t want to hear anything. He was tired of the game, tired of all of it.

  But honest to God, he didn’t know if he could handle Emma again. It wasn’t the long flowing hair or the willowy, curved body and outward beauty. Hell, he was used to beauty—his world was swamped with it. And he’d seen Amber’s body enough that he should also be immune to Emma’s curves.

  But what had drawn him about Emma went beyond skin deep. In her eyes had been a host of things that made him curious, and lurking behind her nerves had been a woman he wanted to know more about. Photographing Emma had been an experience like…like making love to a virgin. Intoxicating, exhilarating and…

  Shockingly arousing.

  He’d put his heart and soul into those pictures with her—more than he’d done in years—and it had thrown him. All damn week now he’d been wondering about walking away from this life of photographing others, because Kauai had been sheer and simple joy.

  “I’ll be there,” she said. “I won’t forget.”

  “Good.” For one idiotic moment he wondered what else he could say, how he could keep her on the phone, how he could get a promise out of her, but then he came to his senses. “Thank you,” he said, and hung up.

  “So which twin is it going to be this time?” Stone came through the sliding glass door carrying two beers, one of which he handed over before he sank to a chair. “Diva Amber or Queen Emma?”

  “Emma.”

  Fascinated by this tale of twins, Stone had looked into one Emma Willis. He’d discovered that she was part of a team of soap opera writers for Live And Love, with a reputation for being all work and no play.

  She was Hollywood, firmly entrenched there, the one place Rafe wanted out of.

  He twisted the cap off his beer and tossed back his head for a long pull on the cold brew.

  “Interesting.” Stone put his feet up on the table, rolling his eyes when Rafe pushed them off. “This whole twin thing. They should do a shoot together, something without clothes, of course—” He broke off when Rafe snarled. “What? I’m just wondering.”

  “Go wonder about one of your beach bunnies.”

  “Hey, this is Amber I’m talking about. Amber drives you insane and tells everyone I’m gay. So why would you care if I—” He broke off, going from confused to speculative. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “She got under your skin, in just one day.”

  “Amber never gets under my skin.”

  “I’m not talking about Amber—she could get under the skin of an elephant. I’m talking about Emma.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “You dated Amber once and didn’t sleep with her,” Stone said. “Are you never going to sleep with Emma, either? Let me know, man, and I’ll stop picturing her in that thong.”

  Rafe glared at his friend, who laughed and stood, pulling off his shirt, leaving him in knee-length, sunshine-yellow swim trunks. “I think it’s time for a swim. Why don’t you call your gorgeous sisters over here so I can have some bikini scenery to keep me company?”

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” Rafe said seriously. “And besides, Tessa’s taken now.”

  “That leaves Carolyn. Tell her to wear that white two-piece she’s got, because the water’s chilly, and—” He halted with a laugh when Rafe growled at him. “Hey, it was worth a shot.”

  “I’ve got a shot for you.”

  “Jeez. Talk about being an overprotective older brother. I can’t ogle Carolyn and you won’t let me even think about Tessa. The least you can do is indulge my Amber-Emma fantasy.”

  “Swim, Stone. Swim.”

  Was he overprotective? Yeah, probably. But even before his parents had retired to Florida a few years back, he and his sisters had been close. They went to each other for money, support, friendship—whatever was needed.

  He relished the relationship, but at the moment felt far more disturbed at the possibility that Stone had some interest in Emma.

  Rafe watched him dive into the pool and start swimming laps. Would Stone go after her? And why did it matter?

  It didn’t. Instead, he concentrated on the carpet samples, but his doorbell rang, the sound wafting through the open sliding glass door. Walking through his unfurnished living room into the foyer, he found a teenage kid standing at his front door.

  “Hey, mister, is this cat yours?”

  Rafe looked down. At the kid’s feet sat the ugliest brown and gray cat he’d ever seen. In spite of the way its fur was matted and filthy, the thing lifted its chin regally and stared at Rafe from eyes so pale a blue they looked like glass. Never having been a cat person, he easily shook his head.

  “Nope. Not mine.”

  “You sure? He’s been wandering around but seems to know your place.”

  The cat kept his gaze over Rafe’s shoulder as if it couldn’t care less what the humans around it thought.

  “I’m sure,” Rafe said.

  The kid shrugged and started to walk away.

  “Hey, you’re not going to just leave it here.”

  “It’s a cat,” the kid called back. “It’ll go wherever it wants.”

  Rafe stared at the cat, who made a big production out of yawning. “Go home,” he said.

  The thing didn’t budge.

  The house across the street had recently sold and a woman stood on the end of the driveway watching him. She was tall, and had her red hair piled on top of her head. She wore a short-sleeved pink sweater and floral capris with pink sandals, and, in keeping with the Suburban in her driveway, she seemed to personify a soccer mom, albeit a hot-looking one. When she saw him looking at her, she crossed the street toward him.

  “Is that a stray cat?” she asked him, looking worried.

  “It’s a stray something.”

  “Oh, the poor thing.” She kneeled next to the cat and stroked it. “Poor homeless thing. What are you going to do about him?”

  Rafe had planned on going back into his house and shutting the door but found he couldn’t do that with her watching him. “Are you my new neighbor?”

  “Oh!” She smiled and offered him a hand. “Yes, I’m Irena Dotriana, part-time interior designer, part-time mom.”

  “Part-time mom?”

  “I share my kids with my ex-husband.” She shot him a smile. “So…do you have an ex-wife?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “A not-so ex-wife?”

  “Nope.”

  Her smile widened just a little. “Well, then. Need a designer?”

  “I just might.” They chatted for a few more minutes, with Rafe promising to contact her soon for “designing” purposes, and when she left, the cat was still there.

  “What’s this?” Stone came through the house, rubbing a towel over his wet head, not bothering to dry off the rest of him so that he left a trail of wet footprints.

  Rafe groaned. “You won’t be doing that once I get my carpeting in.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Stone eyed the cat. “That’s the ugliest cat ever.”

  Rafe took another look at the feline, who sat as if it were royalty, while its fur stuck up in some places and was matted in others. “Go get me a can of tuna.”

  “If you feed it, you’ll never get rid of it.”

  “His ribs are sticking out. If I feed it, I think he’ll go away.”

  Twenty minutes later they were in the backyard again, with the cat at Rafe’s feet.

  “Told you not to feed it,” Stone said, eyes closed, face tilted up to the sun.

  Rafe glanced at the cat, whose ey