by Lori Foster
The house was dated enough to boggle his senses.
He explored cautiously, leaving the parlor and sneaking a peek into the adjacent rooms, one a library lined with dark, heavy wooden shelves, the other a more modern family room with a TV and overstuffed couch. The rooms were long and narrow with arched doorways and heavy drapes, and they opened to a central hall. At the end of the hall he could see a spacious country kitchen, and next to it, a small bath with black and pink ceramic tile on the floor and walls. Right inside the front door, to the left, was an incredible winding, ornate wooden staircase that led to the second floor.
Hearing a creak from above, Chase looked up. From the sounds of it, Allison was up there talking quietly with someone.
Jealousy, hot and dark, raced over his nerve endings, along with the need to protect. He could still feel her unease, and when he found out who was responsible, they’d be sorry. He crept upstairs. Each damn step seemed to groan beneath his weight, the typical speakings of an old house. The urgency suddenly quieted, replaced by annoyance—not his annoyance, so maybe it was hers?
The stairway ended with another hall. At one end was a large, narrow, diamond-paned window showing the dark night beyond, with two bedrooms, one on either side of the hall, in between. At the other end was a master bedroom and a larger bathroom, and that’s where Chase headed. He could hear Allison clearly now, and his brows drew tight. Who the hell was she talking to? He paused outside the bathroom door and listened.
“Really, the idea is ludicrous. I can’t sleep with Chase when he doesn’t truly want me. And before you say it, you know it’s just that darn trick you played on me, letting him read my mind, that has him reacting right now.” She groaned. “When I think of all the stuff I imagined, it’s so embarrassing. If it wasn’t for that, he’d still think I was invisible.
“Oh, no. That dress had nothing to do with it, though I admit I liked wearing it. It made me feel sexy, whether it actually worked or not.” She laughed slightly. “The underthings were great. I loved them.”
Chase peeked around the open door, his eyes narrowed. But there was no one in the room. Just Allison. Naked. In a tub of bubbles.
Her blonde hair was pinned on top of her head, little ringlets falling free, and her bare arms rested along the sides of the free-standing, claw-footed white porcelain tub. Her eyes were closed and her soft mouth smiled.
She sighed deeply, and one small pink nipple appeared above the froth of bubbles. Chase stared, mesmerized, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.
“I appreciate your efforts, guys, I really do. But I’m not at all sure I can go through with it, so let’s just forget about Chase, okay?”
Chase stepped completely into the bathroom, his body pulsing with need. “Let’s don’t.”
With a loud squeal and a lot of thrashing and splashing, Allison turned to see him. She knelt in the tub, her hands crossed over her chest, her eyes wide. She didn’t have her glasses on and she stared at him hard.
Automatically, he said, “It’s me, Chase.”
“I know who it is! What in the world are you doing in here! This is my bathroom. How did you get in?”
He opened his mouth, but she interrupted him, shouting, “Never mind that! Just get out!”
He frowned. “Who were you talking to, Allison?”
She groaned. “Oh God, I don’t believe this. I don’t believe this, it isn’t happening….”
“Are you going to get hysterical on me?”
“Yes!”
She glared up at him, her big blue eyes rounded owlishly as she tried to see him without her glasses. She was still crouched in the tub, the bubbles reaching her hips, and her hands somewhat inadequate to completely cover her breasts. She was small, but the soft, white, rounded flesh showing from around her crossed arms was very distracting. And here she’d thought herself lacking…
Chase cleared his throat. “I’ll step out in the hall, but make it quick. You have some explaining to do.”
He walked out and dropped back against the wall, his eyes closed, his stomach muscles pulled tight. He’d left the bathroom door open and heard her growl, “Don’t you dare peek!”
He just shook his head. “Hurry up, will you? My patience is pretty thin right now.”
There was a flurry of splashing and mumbled cursing, then Allison, leaving a trail of water, padded barefoot out of the bathroom, an ancient embroidered chenille robe wrapped tightly around her, her glasses once again in place. Bubbles clung to the end of a ringlet over her right ear, and her throat and upper chest were still wet. The robe covered her, but the neckline dipped low enough that he could just make out the edging of white lawn underwear. Again, something vintage? When she stomped over to face him, the robe parted over her legs and he saw old-fashioned drawers that just reached her knees. His heart rate accelerated, but she quickly pulled the robe closed again.
She greeted him with a pointed finger poked into his chest. “How dare you barge in here, intruding on my privacy!”
Chase grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and gave in to the need to kiss her. She was still warm and damp, and she smelled like flowers. He held her head between his hands, urging her to her tiptoes, then kissed her long and soft and deep, eating at her mouth, capturing her tongue and drawing it into his own mouth. She groaned softly, and the hallway lights blinked happily around them.
“What the hell?” Chase looked up, but there was no one there. “What happened to the lights?”
Her hands remained fisted in his shirt, her expression dazed, her lips still parted. Around panting breaths, she said, “Hmmm?”
“The lights blinked, almost like a strobe.”
“Oh.” Very slowly, she pushed herself away from him, then straightened her glasses. She looked around with a frown. “It’s an old house. The wiring is sometimes…temperamental.”
Chase stared at her, saw her trying to gather herself, and shook his head. “Damn, honey, you look sexy as hell.” He lifted an edge of the robe. “What have you got on under there?”
Her eyes widened and she clutched the robe. “Chase, stop it.”
He stepped toward her, and she backed up. “Who were you talking to, Allison?”
“Myself?”
He shook his head. “I’m not believing it. Try again.”
“You can see there’s no one here.”
“The window downstairs is open.”
“It is?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t quite keep his gaze on her face, not after seeing her practically naked—and liking very much what he saw. He was so hard he hurt, and his imagination was going wild, thinking of all the things he’d like to do to her. “Don’t you think that’s a little risky, being you’re here alone?”
“I didn’t open the window, Chase.”
His brows pulled down again, because she sounded totally unconcerned as she said that. Then she added, “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s kind of late for a social call, isn’t it?”
Why was he here? Damn, how could he tell her he’d been worried? That he’d felt something was wrong? He started to say just that when suddenly the lights flickered again, almost going crazy, and seconds later there was a crash downstairs. Chase grabbed Allison’s arm, shoved her into the bathroom, and shouted, “Lock the door,” before rushing down the stairs. His instincts were screaming an alarm, and he didn’t wait to see if Allison would do as she was told. He just took it for granted that she would.
Bounding down the steps two at a time, an awkward task given the lights danced wildly, he reached the bottom in just a few seconds. He heard another noise, like a distant thump, and followed the sound into the parlor where he’d entered. As he bolted into the room, he saw that the wind had picked up a heavy curtain hanging over the window he’d climbed through minutes before.
He distinctly recalled closing and locking that window. Someone had just left the house.
He moved silently across the room, his gaze searching everywhere, checking out every
corner. But the fact that the window was open when he got here, and then opened again, led him to believe someone had been in the house and had now left. Otherwise, how did the window get open, when it locked from the inside and he himself had just locked it?
He turned to go back to check on Allison and ran right into her. She would have landed on her sweet behind if he hadn’t caught her upper arms and steadied her.
“Dammit! I thought I told you to stay upstairs.” He wasn’t at all pleased that she’d disregarded his orders.
She glared right back at him. “This is my house. And besides, I knew nothing was wrong. A house this old makes all kind of noises. There was no reason to be alarmed.”
He wanted to shake her. This propensity he had for losing his temper and rattling her teeth was disturbing in the extreme. He’d never really lost his temper with a woman in his life, and he’d sure as hell never taken to shaking them. In fact, he took extra pleasure in maintaining icy control, in holding the reins of command gently. It was a big turn-on for him.
But Allison made him forget all that.
He leaned down close until their noses almost touched and said in a low growl, “Someone was just in your house.”
She scoffed.
“Dammit, Allison, how much proof do you need? When I got here, the window was open, which was how I got in, by the way. But then I closed and locked it. Only now it’s wide open again and a table’s knocked over and there’s a broken dish on the floor. So unless you’re going to tell me this house is inhabited by ghosts, you’ll have to admit—”
“It is.”
Her blurted statement and small wince had him verbally backing up. “It is, what?”
She drew a long breath and he felt her shoring up her courage, preparing herself, then she whispered, “It is inhabited by ghosts.”
He had the horrifying suspicion she was serious. “Come again?”
With another deep breath, she looked up at him, then said, “The house comes with two ghosts. If you’d like, I could introduce you to Rose and Burke.”
Chapter Four
Allison waited anxiously while Chase did no more than stare down at her. He looked skeptical and a little concerned. Finally he said, “Are you all right?”
“Chase.” She took his hand and led him to a couch, forced him to sit, then turned on a few lamps. He was right. There was a knocked-over table and a broken dish. She frowned and said to the room at large, “Very funny, Rose. If you wanted to scare him off, you’re succeeding.”
“Uh, Allison—”
She waved him to silence, propped her hands on her hips over the soft robe, and looked around. “Well, Rose? You got him here, so the least you can do is come out and show yourself. What? No more blinking lights? No more parlor tricks?”
Nothing. She frowned again, then glanced worriedly at Chase. He watched her like she’d grown an extra head. She raked a hand through her disheveled bangs, somewhat embarrassed. Darned aggravating ghosts.
“Uh, listen honey.” Chase spoke very gently, very softly. He patted the couch cushion beside him. “Why don’t you sit down here for a minute and I’ll go see if I can get us something to drink.”
When she shook her head at him, he left the couch to stand beside her, trying to urge her to the seat he’d just vacated.
She made a sound of disgust. “It must have been Burke. Rose is pretty nice most of the time, though she’s sometimes a little crotchety. But Burke”—and here she raised her voice to make certain he’d hear—“can be a real pain!”
A cold draft filled the room, making her shiver. Chase looked around, then chafed her arms roughly to warm her. “Do you have another window open?”
“No, that’s just Burke. He hates it when I insult him.”
He eyed her dubiously. “On second thought, I don’t want to leave you alone. Why don’t we go into the kitchen together?”
Allison laughed. “Chase, you can read my mind. Can’t you tell I’m not making it up?”
She might have been made of fine china, the way he now handled her. “I can tell you think you’re actually talking to ghosts.” He put a rather brotherly arm around her and urged her into the hallway. “But don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just go to the kitchen, and while you get something to drink, I’ll check the other windows. There’s definitely one open. Your hair is blowing around.”
She lifted one hand and shoved a loose curl behind her ear. Her gaze searched every corner of the hallway and all the rooms as she passed, but Rose and Burke were hiding for some damn reason.
“Shhh. It’s okay. Here, just sit a minute while I go check the windows and doors.”
Allison sighed. “I’m not going to break, Chase.”
“I know that.” Then he very carefully smoothed her hair in a way that reminded her of a puppy being petted. “I’ll be right back, honey.” He jogged out of the room.
Allison looked around her empty kitchen and wanted to scream. She said aloud, “Well, I hope you’re happy now. He thinks I’m loony. And I seriously doubt discrediting my mental faculties is going to inspire him to lust.”
A warm breeze blew over her, taking away the chill. “Thanks. I hate being cold.” Then she covered her face. “Guys, this is never going to work. I know you thought it would, but—”
Chase walked back in, a severe frown on his face. She knew he wanted to say something about her conversation with ghosts that he didn’t believe in, but he refrained. “Everything on this floor is closed up and locked. I didn’t check upstairs yet, but the breeze seems to be gone.”
She eyed him carefully. “Of course it is.”
“Actually, for such an old house, the locks are pretty secure. Were they changed recently?”
A safe enough topic, she decided. “My aunt, who I inherited the house from, had never married. She lived alone here, and it made her nervous. I think she updated the locks every two years, and she had them all checked regularly.” Allison added with a grin, “Living with ghosts made her really nervous. She didn’t accept it nearly as well as I have.”
Pulling a chair up close so that their knees almost touched, Chase seated himself. He took her hands and stared her in the eye. “Forget your ghosts for a second, okay? You have a real problem.”
“What?”
“Honey, I opened the front door and right off the edge of your porch, there are footprints in the dirt. Big prints. Not yours.” He glanced down at her small bare feet, then with another frown, added, “Someone went out the window in a hurry, then leaped off the porch. Not a damn ghost, a flesh-and-blood man. Someone was here in the house with you.”
Every small hair on her neck stood at attention while she stared frozen, straight into Chase Winston’s dark, serious gaze. So that was why she’d been feeling so nervous and why Burke and Rose had invaded her bath.
Chase made an impatient sound. “Allison, I don’t understand—”
She waved him to silence, finally ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Don’t you see? Usually they respect my privacy. They’re around, but they don’t intrude—at least, not much—and certainly not when I’m changing clothes or bathing. But tonight they kept hanging around the bathroom, and even though they’re just ghosts, it really did make me nervous. I mean, I was naked.”
Chase blinked slowly. “Yeah, I noticed.”
She ignored that and continued to reason things out. “At least, I thought that was why I was nervous. But now I think it must have been the intruder. Rose wanted me to be nervous, to understand…Oh God.” The enormity of it hit her. “Someone was in my house!”
Chase bit the side of his mouth, and she could feel him thinking, sorting out what he’d say, how to address what he considered sheer fancy on her part. Finally, he lifted a hand to her cheek and tried a small smile. “Honey, you’re telling me there’re ghosts in your house, but that doesn’t bother you. It’s only the idea of a real man—”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Chase. You’re a real man, and I�
��m not afraid of you. But then you don’t sneak in through windows!”
His thumb brushed over her temple, distracting her. “Actually, I did.”
She struggled to get her mind back on track and away from that big, warm thumb. “You know what I mean. You came because you were worried about me. Hey! That’s it. Just like Rose transferred my thoughts to you at the bar, she must have let you know about the intruder. Can you just imagine what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up?” She shuddered in very real fear. “I guess I owe Rose my thanks.”
Chase appeared to be considering everything she’d said. “Okay, let’s deal with that first. Why did you leave the window unlocked?”
Allison huffed. “I’m not an idiot, Chase.”
“But…”
“I didn’t leave the window open,” she insisted. “And before you even think it, Rose or Burke would never do such a thing.”
Chase lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “I wasn’t going to suggest they might.”
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t believe in them.”
“What I believe is that someone broke in here, and they got in through the window. It didn’t look to me like they’d broken in, rather they just opened the window because it wasn’t locked.”
“But they’re always locked.”
“This one wasn’t.”
She pondered that. How could such a thing have happened? The lights flickered again and both she and Chase looked up at the old Tiffany-style chandelier hanging over the kitchen table. Allison pursed her mouth. “See there? I think Rose or Burke have an idea, but because they’re fickle and determined on their own course, they won’t just come right out and tell me about it.”
“They, uh, talk to you, do they?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it talking. I mean, I hear them, but I don’t know that they’re actually saying anything. You understand?”
His expression was ironic. “Certainly. What’s not to understand?”