Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

leaving this bedroom again.
    Come on. You’ve bared it all in front of complete strangers before, at Heathers.
    The reminder shut her laughter off like a faucet. Yes, she had, but this wasn’t the same thing. She bet her entire body was blushing. There was a special kind of hell that burned a woman when she made a complete fool of herself in front of a devastatingly attractive man. Hank wasn’t just devastatingly attractive; he defined the words.
    And that’s when the shock hit her. Her eyelids popped open. She’d noticed. Hank was attractive, and she’d noticed. And she’d laughed, an honest-to-God—if slightly hysterical—laugh. It had been so long since she’d laughed.
    A finger traced along her mouth found a curve. She was smiling.
    And naked. Don’t forget naked, Sage.
    She was also late. A quick look at the clock jumpstarted her across the room to her suitcase to retrieve clothes.
    Hank was home. A sigh escaped as she pulled on underwear and a bra. Why couldn’t he have been old? Ugly? On time, for heaven’s sake? Alice had told her he was expected back in two weeks. Of course, she’d also said she would be sure and tell him that Sage was sleeping in his guest bedroom, which obviously hadn’t been the truth, so why should she be surprised that he was here at the ass crack of dawn fourteen days before he was supposed to roll back into town?
    And why did he own the hound from hell?
    She didn’t have to think about that long. All she had to do was think about Hank’s face, that sexy smirk, and she knew the two males shared the same sense of humor. Both dog and master had been toying with her, damn them.
    Another muffled laugh escaped.
    A suit of steel-plated armor would’ve suited her better today, but that wouldn’t have fit in her suitcase. If it was winter, she could’ve worn a parka.
    You don’t own a parka, smart-ass.
    She stuck her tongue out at herself and grabbed a thin summer dress. It would have to do. Her socks and tennis shoes didn’t provide a shield so much as practical protection—and cushion—in the kitchen. Feeling like she needed about ten more layers, she stepped over to the mirror above her dresser and pulled her hair back from her face. Dusted on some powder. It took about ten minutes and the glaring hands of her clock reminding her how late she was before she could convince herself to go to the bedroom door.
    The chill of the doorknob against her palm shot a tingle of adrenaline along her nerves, but she managed to turn the thing anyway. Cracked the door.
    Relief filled her: The hallway was clear. No dog. No big guy with a shaved head and shoulders that took up all the breathing space in the room. Easing the door open, she double-checked before stepping out of the safety of her room.
    The expectant silence filling the apartment weighed on her as she moved down the dim hallway. Was Hank in the kitchen? His bedroom?
    No thinking about Mr. Sexy in his bedroom, Sage. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.
    The horrible pun rang in her head, but she fought the urge to giggle—and shake her head at herself. Numb for weeks, and now here she was, giggling and laughing and practically swooning at the feet of the first attractive man she encountered in her new home. Pitiful.
    The kitchen was also empty. Where had they gone?
    Who cared? This wasn’t Mission Impossible . She shouldn’t be sneaking out like she’d stolen her way in in the first place. She had a job to do, and she better get her butt in gear and go do it.
    The haste with which she scrambled across the open room was a bit embarrassing, but if it meant she escaped without notice, she was fine with that. Besides, it felt a little like pulling one over on her tormenters. Call her petty, but she couldn’t deny her smirk as she sneaked out the door.
    Dawn was a light barely cresting on the horizon as she made her way down the creaky stairs and around to the bakery door. The scent of warm bread and sugar was fresh,