The Secrets of Her Past. Emilie Rose

was almost eleven o’clock—too late for her to be up, considering she’d barely stayed awake during the car ride home from the hospital. Or had she been faking it when she’d had her head back against the headrest and her eyes closed?

      He grabbed his towel, wiped the sweat from his face and headed down the hall to find out what was wrong.

      In the den he simultaneously flipped on the light and thrust open the door, then stepped outside. Madison spun to face him. The cool night air chilling the sweat on his skin had beaded her nipples beneath her thin T-shirt. His heart thumped hard against his ribs. He yanked his gaze back to her face. “What are you doing out here?”

      “Unwinding.”

      Every muscle in her long, bare legs was as tense as a bowstring, belying her answer. She bit her lip and folded her arms. The move hiked up the bottom of her shirt a few inches, revealing the hem of her shiny running shorts. At least she wasn’t naked beneath the shirt. Her toes curled on the deck, and lust kicked him square in the gut. He punted it right back. There was nothing sexy about bare feet and unpainted toenails.

      “You should be in bed. Tomorrow will be as busy as today.”

      “I’m not tired yet.”

      The shadows beneath her eyes told a different story. “You can’t sleep out here, Madison. There’s a perfectly good bed inside.”

      “I’m fine. Don’t let me keep you from—” Her gaze traveled across his bare chest, then down to the waistband of his gym shorts—his only piece of clothing. His blood chased south right behind it. “Whatever you were doing.”