He grabbed the remote and turned off the television. Allie didn’t move. Her legs, bent at the knee, were long and bare. The hem of her light blue dress had risen to the curve of her perfectly shaped bottom, revealing the hint of a round globe. He hadn’t seen her ass yet. Or her breasts. He’d touched her, watched her come, but hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse of the best bits.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her. With a deep breath, he forced himself to look away from that luscious ass and back to her face, her tousled hair.

He’d made up his mind this evening. He was going to have to keep his distance. No more naked Allie. No more bathtub visits. No more touching. It was just too bloody frustrating.

He should send her home to her family. It was stupid, keeping her here without shagging her senseless. But every time he thought about letting her go, he rejected the idea. And she hadn’t cleared her debt. Besides, he liked taunting her, saying outrageous things, watching those cheeks fill with color.

Bloody hell, when had he turned into such a rambling twat?

Reaching out, he poked her in the arm. Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t awaken. So he grabbed a strand of white-blond hair and tickled her nose with it. Still asleep, she brushed at her face with one hand.

“Miss Campbell,” he whispered. With the strand of hair still in his hand, he ran it along the seam of her lips. “Oh, Miss Campbell.”

“Go away.” She shifted her bottom against the back of the sofa, making the dress ride up further. He sneaked a peek and saw half of her peach-shaped ass hanging out, just waiting to be palmed.

With a scowl, he poked her again. A little harder this time. “It’s midnight, Miss Campbell. You should be upstairs in bed, before you turn into a pumpkin.”

She groaned.

Sighing, he bent and scooped her up. Her light fragrance surrounded him, making him want to haul her up to his room and spend the rest of the night buried inside of her. Did she smell that good all over? He’d love to find out. Instead, he shifted her a bit and carried her out of the room. As he walked toward the stairs, she snuggled herself more comfortably in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt right there.

As soon as it crossed his mind, he stopped cold. That was a bloody stupid thought. She was just new, that was all, a novelty in his life. He stared down at her beautiful face. He would grow tired of looking at it. And it wouldn’t take two months either.

He leaned his head down and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you senseless, Allison.”

Her eyelids flickered. “Mmmkay.” Suddenly, her eyes popped open and realization crept in. She began struggling then, her hands pushing at his chest.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He set her on her feet.

She stood in front of him and tugged at the hem of her dress, smoothing it over her hips as she looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I was carrying you to bed, Miss Campbell. But I’m glad you awakened before I had to drag your bum all the way up the stairs. There are a great many of them, and you were becoming quite burdensome.” He spun her around by the shoulders, reached out, and gave her bottom a little pat. His hand wanted to linger, but he made himself pull back. “Off you go. Nighty night.”

She looked up to the top of the stairs and back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”

Curling his lip, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Unfortunately, no.”

***

When Allie opened her eyes the next morning, the sun was barely up. She glanced at the clock next to the bed and groaned. Six-thirty and she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not after thoughts of last night flooded her brain.

He’d sent her toddling off to bed as if she were a child. She was here for his sexual needs, and every time he didn’t demand she meet them, anxiety filled her, ballooning larger until she felt ready to burst. If Trevor didn’t want her, why didn’t he just let her go? She was convinced he was playing some twisted mind game. Still, what could she do about it?

Throwing back the covers, she headed for the shower. When she walked into the breakfast room, almost an hour later, Trevor’s chair was empty. She gazed around the room for a second, then Frances entered with a carafe of coffee.

“Hungry, love?”

“Just coffee, thanks.” Allie refused to ask about Trevor. If he wanted to go AWOL during meal times, it wasn’t her business. “Frances, can I use a car this morning? I have some errands.”

“Certainly, there’s a car in the garage at your disposal. Mr. Blake also requested that you meet him in the foyer at noon.” Frances set a cup in front of her with a wink and left.

As Allie sipped her coffee, the house remained eerily quiet. It was like living in a museum. She missed the whine of her old refrigerator, the sound of her sisters’ bickering.

After jogging up to her room and grabbing her purse, Allie made her way outside and around the corner of the house. In a garage that was larger than her own home, Simmons cleaned the interior of the limo. He shut off the vacuum when he saw her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Hey, I need to borrow a car.” She eyed the six vehicles parked inside. There was a little yellow roadster she liked the look of, but the thought of wrecking the vintage car made her nervous.

“How about I drive you?” Simmons nodded toward the limo. “I’ll be finished in a second.”

Allie shook her head. “That’s okay.”

“Then why don’t you take the Mercedes? It’s all gassed up and ready to go.” He plucked a set of keys dangling from a hook.

Allie took them and slid behind the wheel, adjusted the seat and mirrors. The mixture of new car smell and expensive leather was intoxicating. Much better than the Festiva’s odor of old burger wrappers and exhaust fumes.

She slowly and carefully drove across town. She didn’t want to add to her debt by dinging Trevor’s car.

She pulled up to the house and parked on the curb. In the driveway, her dad was bent in half beneath the hood of his old Ford truck. When Allie slammed the Mercedes’ door, he lifted his head and did a double take. Grabbing a rag at his side, he wiped his wrench as she approached.

The lines around his eyes seemed deeper, even more pronounced than they had only two days ago. “Hey, Al. Very fancy ride.”

Allie shrugged and moved to hug him. “Mr. Blake’s letting me use it.”

He stepped back, out of reach. “No, Al, I don’t want to get you all dirty.”

She glanced down at the black-and-white sundress she wore. “Oh, right. How are things going? Everybody doing okay? Did Brynn put the towels in the dryer yesterday?”

He tossed the wrench in the toolbox. “You better come inside, Al. We need to talk.”

Chapter 5

“What’s wrong?” Allie trailed her father to the kitchen and watched him wash in the sink. Her mom hated it when he cleaned up in the kitchen, but she could never break him of the habit.

He grabbed a paper towel and wiped his dripping hands. “Monica didn’t get home until three this morning. Wouldn’t tell me where she’d been.”

“Oh my God, this is crazy. What is she thinking?” Allie started walking out the door, ready to confront her sister, but his voice halted her steps.

“Don’t bother. She was gone again this morning when I got up.”

Allie faced him. “And you have no idea who she’s with, where she’s gone?” She placed her palm on her forehead and sighed. “That kid is driving me crazy.”

“Brynn thinks Monica has a new boyfriend, some guy she met at a party.”

Fear mixed with the anger churning inside her. Who knew what kind of parties Monica had been going to? Drinking for sure. Drugs? Maybe. “At a party,” she repeated. “Do we even know this guy’s name?”

Her dad shook his head and leaned against the counter, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “No. I know it doesn’t make sense, but this is how she’s dealing with your mom’s death. She’s grieving.”