Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [144]
She kept a flashlight and a box of matches in her nightstand and there were scented candles on top of her dresser. Taking it slow and easy, she felt her way to the door, cautiously moved into her bedroom, and managed to make it to her bed without running into anything. Another vivid slash of lightning illuminated the room for a couple of seconds, long enough for her to grab the handle and open the nightstand drawer. She rummaged through the drawer’s contents until her fingers encountered the flashlight.
“Lorie,” Mike called from the hallway outside her closed bedroom door. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she told him.
“A transformer probably blew,” he said. “I’ve already put in a call to the emergency line at the utility company.”
Without warning, Lorie’s bedroom door opened and there stood Mike, fresh from his shower, wearing only his pajama bottoms and holding a flashlight, which he pointed directly at her. Both of them stood unmoving, each of them transfixed by the knowledge that Lorie was stark naked. Mike ran the flashlight over her from her wide eyes and gaping mouth to her bare feet. As if finally realizing what he was doing, he cast the flashlight’s glow away from Lorie and waved it around the room as if searching for something.
“I—I had just gotten out of the shower when the power went out,” she told him.
“Where’s your robe?” he asked, his voice rough and husky.
“Uh, in the bathroom, on the door hook. I wasn’t thinking about anything except getting my flashlight.”
“Find your robe and put it on, for God’s sake.”
Loud, repetitive knocking at the front door gained their attention before the sound of a man’s voice identified the person as Tommy Dryer, the deputy on guard duty tonight.
“Stay in your room.” Mike barked out the order. “And put on your robe or your gown or something.”
Trembling inside and out, Lorie sucked in a deep breath. She could still feel Mike’s gaze as it raked over her, the intensity of his stare so powerful that it was as if he had actually been touching her. She had wanted him to look at her, to find her desirable, but she knew that tempting him could be dangerous for both of them.
As she used the flashlight to find her way back into the bathroom, she heard the sound of voices coming from down the hall. Apparently Mike and Tommy were discussing the sudden blackout. Springtime storms such as this were common in Dunmore and occasionally losing power for an hour or two was the norm.
When she located her silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she set the flashlight on the vanity so that the beam shot straight up at the ceiling. She slipped into the ankle-length yellow robe and tied the belt into a loose bow at her waist. Just as she reached up to remove the towel from her hair, a soft rap on the partially closed bedroom door gained her attention.
“Are you decent?” Mike called to her.
Leaving the towel draped around her head, she picked up the flashlight and walked out of the bathroom. “I’m wearing a robe now, so yes, I suppose I’m decent.”
When she shined the light toward the door, it hit Mike mid-chest. He had a gorgeous chest. Broad, muscled, covered with a heavy dusting of curly black hair. Quickly, she lifted the light to his face.
He blinked and held up his hand to shield his eyes. “Damn it, Lorie, are you trying to blind me?”
She jerked the beam away from his face. “Sorry. I guess I should light some candles.”
“It’s late,” he said without moving from the doorway. “I don’t think you need to light candles when all we’ll be doing is sleeping.”
“It’ll be a while before I can sleep. It’s nearly midnight, you know, and the power is out and it’s storming and…” Leaving her sentence unfinished, she went over to the nightstand, removed a box of matches from the drawer, and then lit the three fat round candles sitting atop her dresser in decorative crystal holders. “There, that’s better.”
A delicate muted