Bared. Jill Shalvis

I’d been more forthcoming,” Amber said, “you wouldn’t have covered for me, and I needed you.”

      “You always need me.”

      “Oh, Emma. You have no idea what I’m going through.”

      “Of course not, because I don’t have a life.”

      “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “Look…” Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. “All I’m saying is, you could have told me I’d have to put on a skimpy little nothing.”

      “It was a modeling job. Every modeling job is a skimpy little nothing.”

      For Amber, maybe, but pointing that out would just cause a fight, and frankly, Emma didn’t have the energy to spare. The fact was, Amber counted on her because Emma always came through, always took care of everything, and this time, she’d done just that. So she sighed and forced a smile.

      “How’s your trip?”

      “Perfect. Ricardo is a dreamboat. We went skydiving today, and tomorrow we’re going snorkeling. He just loves it when I put on my bikini and snorkel. But speaking of my trip…” Amber paused.

      Not good. Amber was up to something, which never worked out well for Emma. “You know what? I don’t mean to cut this short, but I’m in the middle of a scene…” She clicked her fingers over the keyboard as if typing. “So, I’ve really got to run—”

      “You’re always in the middle of a scene. In fact,” Amber said on a laugh, “you work way too hard, sweet sister of mine. Way too hard.”

      Something Amber had never bothered to notice before. Emma went on full alert.

      “And you know what else? You never take time for yourself. You spend all of your time at your computer or at the studio with some ungrateful executive yelling at you. That’s just not right, Em, you know it isn’t.”

      True, but at the moment, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except why her sister suddenly had taken notice of her work habits.

      “That’s why I wanted to give you the Kauai job,” Amber said. “So that you could have some time away—”

      “Whoa.” Emma leaned back in her chair. “Let’s review the facts. I went to Kauai for you. Okay? Because you called me in tears over this new guy, this new The One guy you couldn’t stand to lose. You said your career counted on this job and you couldn’t back out, but if you didn’t go to the Caribbean with Ricardo, you were going to lose him. So I caved, I went to Kauai and posed for those pictures to help you. Not for time off, because I didn’t actually take time off. I brought my computer—”

      “You didn’t!” Amber laughed. “What am I saying? Of course you did. What are you working on for the soap right now? Something good? A murder, or some pivotal character realizing he’s bisexual—No, I know! A housewife has an epiphany—she hates her kids and her husband, right?” Amber laughed again. “You know what I think? You should just have everyone get into one big sex-fest. A big orgy. That’ll take care of all the ratings concerns I’ve been reading about in Soap Digest—”

      “We’re doing just fine,” Emma said defensively. “That report was biased because they like ABC’s shows better.”

      “I just think hot sex would help, that’s all. Shake the show up a little. You should try it.”

      “Well, funny you should say that…” Emma entwined the phone cord in her fingers. “Because in Kauai I came to the same conclusion.”

      “What was it, the exotic location or the fabulous cabana boys?”

      Your photographer.

      “A combination,” she said safely, and put Rafe Delacantro right out of her mind.

      Amber put him right back in it. “And the photographer and his assistant, I’ll bet. Neither of them are exactly dogs, are they? Oh man, when I first laid eyes on Rafe, I swear he made my hormones stand up and beg.” She laughed. “And Stone isn’t a slouch in the looks department, either, for all that he’s gay.”

      “What?”

      Amber sighed. “I know, such a waste. But one night at a party, I came on to him and he declined.”

      “That doesn’t make him gay, Amber.”

      “Of course it does.”

      Emma sighed.

      “So about my trip…”

      “What about it?” Emma’s wariness was back.

      “I was wondering how you felt about Joshua Tree National Park.”

      “Huh?”

      “Joshua Tree. The desert just east of you?”

      “I know where it is, I was just trying to figure out why you’re asking me how I feel about it.”

      “Yeah, see, I thought maybe you’d want to go. Maybe experience the great outdoors a little more, and while you were there—”

      “Amber—”

      “—you could maybe just pose for a few more pictures in my place. Tomorrow. They’re shooting April there.”

      “Oh, no—”

      “It won’t affect your work,” Amber said quickly. “It’s just Saturday. One day.”

      “Amber, I can’t be you again.” She thought a bit desperately of filmy white costumes and being in front of the camera when she hated being in front of the camera, not to mention the strange and inexplicable yearning she couldn’t seem to handle when she was—

      “Rafe will be taking the pictures—”

      “He’s going to figure it out, Amber.”

      “No, he won’t. Look, people see what they want to see. And when they look at me, they see a beautiful, but slightly empty brunette who’s good at one thing and one thing only—posing for pictures. You could do that blindfolded. You could, Emma. You have so much more talent than anything I’ve ever had.”

      “That’s not true. Your job is hard, too, in a different way than mine.” Characters forgotten, Emma pushed her laptop away. Elbows on her desk, she rubbed her temples and bit back a sigh. “Why can’t you do it?”

      “Well, I’m still in the Caribbean with Ricardo, and—”

      Ah, yes, Ricardo. “Can’t you just put Rafe off for a few more days? I mean, why did you sign up for this job in the first place if you want out of it so badly?”

      “For the money, for starters.” Amber sighed lustily. “I’ll share it with you, I promise. But it’s more than the cash. This calendar is studio distributed. It’s going to be everywhere, Emmie. Everywhere. It’ll be just the push I need to get a good series or movie this season, I just know it.”

      “Then, come back,” Emma said, pitifully close to begging. No one wanted her sister to be successful more than she did. Because if Amber got successful, or at least happy, she’d stop leaning on Emma so much.

      Emma could almost hear her mother laughing at that hope. No, Margaret Willis didn’t have much faith in her daughters, either of them, but especially Amber. Emma had no idea if that was because her daughters were so incredibly different from her, in both looks and temperament, or if it was simply that she regretted having children so young and being held back from her career.

      In any case, it had been a difficult upbringing. At least Emma used her brain, Margaret often said, having no idea that Emma had chosen to use her brain rather than her beauty simply to please the woman it turned out couldn’t be pleased. Her mother had been so hard on Amber over the years that Emma—the oldest by three minutes—had always felt the need to step in and mediate.

      Twenty-six