Page 42 of Stealthy Seduction
“Close the door. Stay right there while I check things out.”
She gave him a jerky nod and did as he said, frozen to the floor as Hudson vanished into her space.
A moment later, he returned, his shoulders shifting in that cocky—and insanely hot—way he had of walking.
“I guess I’ll change and pack.”
“Mind if I have a look around?”
“No.” It wasn’t like she had anything to hide. Unless thirty self-help books on her shelves and a collection of candles she used for meditating counted.
She grabbed some clothes and shut herself in the bathroom. Everything was the same.
Was she?
She didn’t feel like it.
Even her reflection told her that she was different. Her eyes too bright. Her bottom lip swollen.
And was that beard burn on her throat?
She tipped her head back to study the pink streaks. No wonder Hudson wore that cocky, self-satisfied look on his face whenever he glanced her way.
“Izzy?” he called through the door.
“Uh…yes?”
“Can I get your suitcase for you?”
She tugged open the vanity drawer and began pulling out her travel toiletries. “Top shelf of my closet,” she called back.
“Gotcha.”
She filled a travel bag with the things she needed and then hastily changed out of the clothes Alyssa had kindly loaned her.
“You have books hidden everywhere.” Hudson’s voice projected through the door again.
“I like to read.”
“Who’s the woman in this photo on your dresser?”
He was near her dresser? She prayed he didn’t peek inside her top drawer and find BOB, her Battery-Operated Boyfriend.
“That’s my sister Angelina.” She yanked up her black trousers and buttoned them with all haste.
“I see the resemblance. But you’re prettier.”
She paused, hands stilling on the buttons of her beige blouse. Her sister was always considered the beautiful sister. Any boyfriend Izzy had flocked to Angelina, even though her sister wanted nothing to do with the boys she liked.
When Hudson let out a grunt, she rushed through dressing and ripped open the door to see him standing at her open closet, staring at her clothes.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to go through my closet!”
He swung toward her, a grin stretching his face. When he waved at her wardrobe, she saw what he was seeing. The beige tops. The black pants and skirts.
“So?” She settled a hand on her hip.
The quirk of his lips turned into a grin. “I like your panty drawer better.” In two strides, he reached her dresser and eased open the drawer. When he hooked a pair of zebra-print panties on his index finger, she didn’t know if she wanted to tackle him to the bed or sink into the floor in embarrassment.
