James glanced towards our hiding place and I leapt back. Luckily, he didn’t come and investigate. I had his neat freak tendencies to thank for that, but when he finished cleaning up the mess the gig was up.
“Come out of my room, Ry. I know you’re hiding in there.”
He sounded stern, not angry, but that would change as soon as he saw me. I might as well walk out with my wrists crossed and march myself to the police station. Ryan tugged on my dress before I could open the door.
“I won’t tell or you’ll get in trouble too,” he said earnestly.
He ran out of the bedroom and I wrestled with my conscience. Was I going to let my son get told off without owning up to my role in his misbehaviour? James scolded Ryan mildly and I felt better about not showing myself. While he gave him a piggyback ride to his bedroom I considered my options, then stuck my head out and looked towards Ryan’s door.
It was open so I couldn’t chance sneaking out without being seen. My heart was racing but I told myself to calm down, that once James had changed his shirt—
Changed his shirt? my mind screeched, just as Ryan’s light went out.#p#分页标题#e#
I leapt away from the door, frantic for a place to hide. Was it a scramble under the bed or a hop into the wardrobe? Wardrobe! My long jump wouldn’t have earned me a medal but it got the job done.
The wardrobe doors had tilted wooden slats that allowed me to see into the bedroom but kept me hidden, or so I hoped. I felt like a criminal. Hell, I was a criminal. “Convict” would now join “drug addict” and “alcoholic” on my CV. Maybe I shouldn’t worry because I’d soon be dead anyway. If James didn’t do it then Marcia would. Or worse, she’d ask Kahlu for a charm and it wouldn’t be sugar she jammed my name into. It would be something acid that melted my skin off while I was still alive.
I was trembling, hyperventilating with what I can only describe as the beginnings of a panic attack. But that was nothing compared to what I felt when James walked into the bedroom, turned on the light and started taking his clothes off.
Chapter Sixteen
Peeping Paisley
James eased out of his jacket and tossed it on his bed. The bow tie and cummerbund came off next. He stood in front of the mirror and removed his cufflinks, giving me a clear view of his reflection. His shirt was covered in dark stains that looked like blood. He frowned at it, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Then he opened a button and I stopped straining to hear what he was saying.
James undid his shirt like he did everything else, with efficient, measured purpose. Every centimetre of skin he uncovered increased the temperature in the wardrobe another degree, until it went from balmy summer to tropical heat wave. I wanted to shout at him to hurry up before I melted onto his expensive Italian shoes.
At the same time, my mind was screeching at me to respect James’s privacy. With an effort, I scrunched my eyes shut. The sound of his low curse popped them open. Something had fallen off his dresser and he’d bent down to pick it up. My breath caught at the view of his sculpted shoulders and back.
He straightened and gave me an even better one. James obviously worked out regularly. His six-pack was like something out of Men and Fitness Magazine, defined and muscular, perfectly in proportion with his height and build. My lips tingled, remembering how I’d kissed and nipped him, how silky and firm he’d felt against my skin.
Inside my body.
Sadness brushed my thoughts. Seven years ago I had made love with this man. I had claimed him and been possessed in return but I had never seen his body. I had never studied the small mole on his lower back or deliberately kissed the intricate thorn tattoo around his left bicep. Was that from a bad boy phase? I smiled at the thought. And what about the flat, barely visible scar on his pecs? Was it the result of a childhood accident or something more recent? It pained me not to know.
James swung around and I held my breath. Was he going to look for a shirt now? If he did he would find me and—My breathing accelerated dangerously. He came towards the wardrobe but stopped when he reached the bed. Relief washed over me and my heart rate slowed, but only for a few seconds. What he did next sent it straight into triple bypass territory.
He faced the wardrobe and unzipped his trousers, just enough for a teasing peek at what I’d been dreaming about for so many years. Was he trying to kill me? I lifted my gaze to his chest and shivered, remembering how I had drawn letters on that firm, taut canvas, twirling and curling P’s that danced over his abdomen and down to his long, thick—
Oh God! This was wrong, wrong, wrong. I shut my eyes tightly and a dreary room full of faceless strangers superimposed itself over James’s bedroom. My name is Elizabeth Paisley Benton and I’m a pervert. I hide in men’s closets and get off watching them undress.#p#分页标题#e#