Risk Taker

Buy it here or FREE in Kindle Unlimited


The house was dark as Ethan let himself through the front door. He didn’t want to wake and startle his mother by switching on any lights. He knew the apartment well enough to navigate through blind. When he reached the guest bedroom, he headed straight for the en-suite, stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He planted his hands on the smooth tiles, dropped his head between his shoulders and enjoyed the hot water pouring over his neck and down his back. Tension from the long day eased from his muscles. Turning off the water before it grew cold, he grabbed a blue, fluffy towel from the rack and dried himself.

“Oh my God!”

Someone screeched behind him as he was towel drying his hair.

He spun around.

It was that woman—Holly, whom he’d fantasied about earlier. She stood in the bathroom, eyes wide, her mouth open. Then like she’d realised she shouldn’t be looking at him, covered them with her hand.

“I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said.

He could have sworn her fingers cracked open slightly as she spoke. He smirked. “I didn’t know anyone would walk in. What are you doing here?”

“Your mother asked me to stay the night,” she answered, still not taking away her hand even though he knew she could see him through the gaps of her fingers. He made no move to cover up.

Why would his mother invite an actress to stay? Was Holly using her to get to him? It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had pulled that trick. “You don’t have to hide your eyes. I know you can see me. I’m not shy.”

She dropped her hand and spun around, her back to him. “I wasn’t looking.”

He chuckled not believing her for a second.

She cleared her throat. “I should leave you alone. Your mum said I could stay. I didn’t expect you’d be here…” Her voice came out a little husky. She hesitated for a beat, then hurried out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Blowing out a long breath, he shoved his fingers through his wet hair. The cute girl-next-door impression he originally classified her as, flew out of the window. In a t-shirt that barely covered her pert arse and tousled bed hair, she was sexy as hell.


 “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.

Speaking of the devil, he sauntered into the bedroom, steam from the bathroom and the scent of citrusy soap trailed behind. He was shirtless. 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. “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?”

“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 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.

“I hope you’re not going to stand there all night because I’d like to go to bed,” she huffed.

“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?

“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.