Baring It All (Mills & Boon Temptation)

by Sandra Chastain

  Here they are. Thanks for the help. The new job is going fine. Have to admit I was tempted. Guess Malone knew that, too. I tried to refuse the money. But he did insist on buying them. He said I owed it to you and so did he. Edward.

  Inside the small box, nestled in fluffy white cotton, was the dead bee. Ryan had saved the thing and bought the photos, too. The printing of the photos would only have made her look bad by confirming that she was the kind of hard-nosed reporter who’d do anything to get a story. Suddenly, everything had been reversed. Instead of the Good-News Girl exposing Lord Sin, she’d become the Sinner.

  And there was no way she could go back and do it over. What could she have done differently and still stayed true to her vow to tell the truth? That question was harder to answer. She could have put a different slant on the story. Instead of presenting the information as some kind of exposé, she could have portrayed Ryan as the boy who made good.

  Her father was right. Isabella was right. She’d made a mistake and she needed to apologize. When she told Ted she needed Walt for her interview with Ryan Malone, he looked puzzled, but he agreed. When Walt found out they were returning to Rainbow House, he didn’t even grumble. An hour later, the camera was videotaping the new swimming pool at the retirement center.

  “Many of you remember my last story about Ryan Malone, when I revealed his secret past as the infamous Lord Sin. Today, the Good-News Girl wants to talk about a hero. My story about Lord Sin was the truth but the bad news is that it hurt someone who never did anything but good. Ryan Malone’s life was one of protecting those he cared about, those who preferred not to have their misfortune spread across the news and those who never knew where their help came from. And I made him sound like a fraud.

  “I made a mistake,” Sunny admitted. “Not in reporting the truth. I had to do that, but in telling the story of Lord Sin in anger. I thought the only reason he was interested in me was because he wanted me to help him make Lord Sin disappear. I let that color my judgment. When I told his story, I did it to make myself look good. Now I want Atlanta to care about a man with a good heart as much as I do. A hero who not only builds swimming pools to help those with arthritis exercise their limbs, but sends a bus to pick up those who don’t live in Rainbow House. I want all of you to know that what’s in the heart is the important thing, not what those of us in the media report.

  “So, if you’re listening, Ryan, thank you from all of us. What Atlanta needs is more good news and—” she gave a wicked smile “—more satin sheets. This is Sunny Clary reporting from Rainbow House.”

  When the camera lights went off, Isabella clapped. “Very nice, Sunny. But you were too hard on yourself. In the beginning, Ryan did set out to use you. That changed. For the first time, Ryan fell in love, but he didn’t know how to tell you. Lord Sin was a stripper and unless you’ve been a stripper you can’t know what the world thinks about that profession. He was scared he’d lose you and he thought that once Lord Sin was gone, his past would be gone, too.”

  “Did you know he bought those pictures, the ones of the bee in my bra, to protect me? Why did he do that?”

  “Ryan has always looked out for those he cares about.”

  An hour later, Sunny was still sitting on Isabella’s couch. She dropped her head and let out a deep sigh. “What am I going to do?”

  “I wonder if Ryan will see your story,” Isabella said.

  “Why wouldn’t he see it?” Lottie asked, turning on the television. “What time will it be on?”

  Sunny glanced at her watch. “If they run it on the hour, it ought to be now.”

  At that moment a shot of Rainbow House came on the screen. Lottie picked up the phone, put it on speaker, and punched in the number. The answering machine came on. “Ryan, if you’re there—”

  “I am, Lottie. What do you want?”

  “Turn on WTRU.”

  “Why? Is Sunny exposing a little old grandfather who mugs pigeons?”

  Then he hushed as Sunny’s voice came over the speaker, repeating her story about a man who should be a hero. When she signed off, there was a long silence, followed by a click and a dial tone.

  “He doesn’t believe me. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” Sunny asked. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you want to do?” the old woman asked.

  “Somehow, I have to let him know that I don’t care if he was a stripper. I’ll take up stripping myself, if that’s what it takes.”

  “That’s it!”Lottie shouted. “That’s what you’ll do. I’ll teach you a routine. Tonight, the Good-Time Girl will strip for Lord Sin.”

  SUNNY LOOKED AT HERSELF in the mirror and cringed. Her nipples were covered with red roses. The G-string was green and sewn with fake leaves. The rest of her was embarrassingly bare. “Lottie, I’ll never be able to go through with this.”

  “Sure you will. You’ve got the moves down fine. We just have to get you covered up.” Lottie held out a shimmering see-through halter. “Put this on first.” She looped the ties at the back around Sunny’s neck and handed them to her.

  With a groan, Sunny tied the straps under her chin giving herself a sparkling bow tie. “Look at me. I’m all hair and legs. He’ll laugh me right out of his apartment.”

  “Just so long as you take him with you,” Lottie said. “I think it’s time that Lord Sin had a dose of his own medicine.”

  Sunny struggled to get the halter on and looked into the mirror. When she saw how skimpy her clothes were, she shook her head. “Why wear anything at all?”

  “So you’ll have something to take off. Trust me, Sunny. This is just what Ryan needs to make him see the truth. He’s been harder on himself than the public ever thought about being. He’s gone into hiding, neglecting his office, his friends, everything. But it isn’t the story that did it, it’s losing you.”

  “Maybe, but this is a bad idea, Lottie. I’ll have to come up with something more spectacular than this to convince him I’ve changed.”

  “Yeah,” Lottie said with a grin. “First you have to get his attention. Talk dirty.”

  Half an hour later, Sunny had added a short skirt, a jacket which hugged the bow from her halter and buttoned down the front and a pair of shoes with three-inch heels. “Okay, you taught me the moves. How do I manage the dirty talk?”

  Lottie handed Sunny the tape recorder, already loaded with the music they’d rehearsed. “That part of the seduction is up to you. You’ll think of something.”

  Sunny carried Lottie’s recorder and a single red rose, apprehension growing by the mile as she drove herself to Ryan’s building. The pasties abraded her nipples with every move she made. That, combined with the thought of what she was about to do, drew her nerves into a tight wire of tension. She was beginning to appreciate what a stripper endured.

  At the Malone Building, Sunny shrugged off the valet parking attendant with a shake of her head and drove her Cutlass beneath the building to the darkest corner of the top parking deck. She pulled the ties of her raincoat tighter, gathered up her recorder and the rose and started into the building, feeling as if she was stuffed.

  “Evening, Ms. Clary,” the guard in the lobby said. “Shall I let Mr. Malone know you’re here?”

  “No. Please don’t. I want to surprise him.” Surprise? That was likely to be an understatement. This was going to be a disaster. Twice, she almost changed her mind and returned to the lobby. At Ryan’s door she folded the tape recorder under her arm, took a deep breath and rang the bell.

  Inside the penthouse Ryan was talking to the guard. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. I know Ms. Clary. She’s dressed a little odd but it’s her.”

  The bell rang once, then repeatedly. An unexpected, forbidden tremor rippled down his backbone. He didn’t know why she was here and he didn’t want to feel—not anything, certainly not anticipation. Then his hand was on the door and it was open.

  But there was no one there.

  Only the sound of tom-t
oms.

  Then a leg curled around the doorframe, followed by one arm and a hand holding a long-stemmed red rose.

  “What the hell?”

  The crash of cymbals brought into view both legs and a sexy little business suit. The door closed. She placed the tape recorder on the floor and bent her head forward. He couldn’t see her face, only a mass of unruly hair hanging in a fall of red. She merely stood, her hands resting on her thighs. Then, as the music changed, his visitor began to circle her hips. She lifted her head and moved forward until her palms were pressing his chest. Then she gave a shake to her head and pushed him away. Every move in time with the music, she turned her back, unbuttoned and dropped her jacket. She leaned forward and looked at him between her legs, the rose clasped in her teeth.

  Ryan lost every smidgen of air he’d ever drawn in.

  “You didn’t come to me, Sin,” she whispered. “I waited. But my bed grows cold in the darkness. You made me yours. You promised me a lover, but you didn’t come. Now I’ve come to you. I’m real, my darling, and I’m filled with love for you.”

  She stood, unfastened a snap at her waist and dropped the short skirt, revealing her bare bottom before she turned to face him again. “What’s the matter, Sin?” she said, and ripped away the top leaf from her G-string. “Am I getting to you? Do you want to touch me? I want to touch you.” She jerked off another leaf. “I want to spend the rest of my life touching you.” With her hands she simulated the same motions he’d made on stage, the seduction of the imaginary lover. Sunny did things with the rose she carried that Sin had never imagined. He was ready to explode.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice so tight that he could hardly speak.

  “Because I love you, the man you were and the man you are.” She untied the bow that held the see-through halter around her neck. The halter was gone. And all he could see were the rosettes she wore on her nipples. “Tell me that you love me.” She plucked the final leaf. “Lord Sin,” she said with a purr in her voice, “your lady of the green fire has come to you.”

  She was magnificent, a golden-skinned woman wearing nothing but two rosettes, a woman as wicked as sin. And Ryan knew they were a perfect match. He smiled and approached her, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his pants. “Who taught you my moves?” he whispered.

  “You did.”

  Moments later he stood facing her, wearing nothing but an erection and a smile. “You learn well. But to create a world of fantasy is temporary. To make it real, you have to go there with me. Will you?”

  She gave him a long, heated look and said, “Take me.”

  He did.

  At midnight he slid from the bed and disappeared, reappearing moments later with champagne, chocolates and strawberries, which he spread across the satin sheets.

  Sunny caught the chocolate as it slid toward the edge.

  “We’re going to have to do something about these sheets, Ryan,” she said.

  “Now that I’ve made love to you here, we will,” he said, sitting cross-legged across the bottom of the bed and opening the champagne. “I’ve ordered burgundy knit bed linens. I want you to have what makes you happy.”

  She took two berries, put one in her mouth and bit into it, the juice beading on her tongue before she said, “Then you aren’t throwing me out?”

  He filled the fluted glass, took a sip and handed it to her. “I’m locking the door and throwing away the key. I love you, Sunny. I want to marry you.”

  She dropped the second berry and watched wide-eyed as it slid down her chest and disappeared into the covers. “Marry you? Oh, Ryan. I don’t know. I never expected that.”

  “I never expected to ask a woman either. But I’m asking you, Sara Frances Clary. Be my wife. Separate, we’re alone.

  Together, we’re complete.”

  “Are you sure you want a wife? A wife is forever.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’m sorry I told the world your secret.”

  “I’m glad you did. Now Jack Ivy doesn’t have to live on the Riviera. No more secrets, Sunny.”

  “Are you sure, Ryan? I know now I want to have a family, children. But I still want to report the good news. Will you mind?”

  “I’ll buy you a television station if that’s what you want.”

  She lifted her face in question. “Are you that rich?”

  “No, but Lord Sin will come out of retirement to dance again if we need him.”

  She smiled. “I’ll always need him. I love Lord Sin. I love Ryan Malone and I love Jack Ivy for creating both of them. So, if you want me, the answer is yes. Just promise me that the only woman Lord Sin ever dances for is me.”

  She leaned back, her red hair a slash of color on his white satin sheets.

  “I do,” he whispered and kissed her.

  Epilogue

  EASTER CAME EARLY that year and on the Tuesday evening after, Lottie and Reverend Clary stepped into the penthouse apartment, beaming like two kids who’d found the prize in the egg hunt.

  “Lottie Lamour! What have you been up to?” Ryan demanded. He was standing behind Sunny, both arms possessively around her waist.

  “Lottie Clary!” Byron corrected, pulling Lottie close and giving her a goofy kiss. “Daughter, be polite. Say good morning to your stepmother.”

  “Pop, don’t be silly, I don’t have a stepmother.”

  “You do now.”

  Sunny looked at Ryan who was looking at Lottie who was practically devouring Byron Clary with her eyes. “We got married last night,” Lottie said. “Of course it was a justice of the peace but it was legal. When we get back to St. Mary’s we’re going to have a church wedding. I’m going to wear a white dress. Of course—” she blushed “—I ought not, but Byron said I should.”

  Sunny pulled Ryan into the living room before he played the outraged father and paddled Lottie. “Come in and tell us about it.” She sat down on the couch. “You actually got married? “

  Byron nodded. “There are still places where you can get a blood test, license and get married, all in one place. I mean we didn’t want to…wait. We just stopped by on the way to Lottie’s to tell you so you wouldn’t worry if you discovered my car outside of her place all night.”

  Sunny started to laugh. Her daddy hadn’t said a word about the fact that she’d moved into Ryan Malone’s apartment before they were married but he was worried about what she might think of him if he spent the night at Lottie’s. “You’re really married? You eloped?”

  “Yes, we are,” he answered, coming toward her. “We did. I know it must be a shock. It was a shock to me. I think I fell in love with her the first moment I saw her.”

  “Please, don’t be angry,” Lottie said. “But I knew I couldn’t let him go back to South Georgia without me. And he’s a minister. I’ve never been a bride before, Ryan, and Byron wanted me to be his wife before we—No, I’m not going to apologize. I love him and I married him. It’s just too bad two other people I know haven’t done the same thing.”

  Sunny planted a stern expression on her face and stood. “Sit down, Pop. There’s something I want you to hear. Ryan, please turn on the television to WTRU news.”

  Moments later Sunny’s smiling face flashed across the screen. “Good evening, Atlanta, this is Sunny Clary, with more good news. At least the news is good for me. For all you Lord Sin fans, I’m afraid the news is bad. Several months ago, on his retirement, I revealed the truth about the identity of the most famous entertainer in Atlanta’s history and the hero he’d become as his alter ego. Now I have an exclusive on his next endeavor.”

  She held up her left hand so that the light could catch the facets of the diamond ring on her finger. If anybody in the viewing audience thought the engagement ring looked remotely like a honeybee, it was never reported.

  “Two weeks from today,” Sunny said, “WTRU will be covering the wedding of Sara Frances Clary and the former Lord Sin, Ryan Malone.”

  The tape faded to black and the
next shot was of Sunny and Ryan. Ryan smiled at the television audience. “The bad news in this story is that the honeymoon is private.”

  The kiss that followed wasn’t.

  Later, the WTRU weatherman struggled to make sense of the sudden increase in the Atlanta temperature. Sunny could have told him it wasn’t sunspots. The jump came from the exhaling of the television audience and the chorus of “Ahhhs” that swept across the city. She could have told them to be prepared for the same phenomenon in about eight months—but for now, she’d save that “good news.”

  ISBN: 978-1-474-01781-7

  BARING IT ALL

  © 2000 Sandra Chastain

  Published in Great Britain 2014

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

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