Free Beneath the Silk by Wendy Rosnau Page A

don’t mean … Sis. What about you? Can I believe what you say?”
    “About what?”
    “You promised me the use of your shower. That offer still stand?”
    “How long did you say you were without running water?”
    “Four days now. Five if we’re counting today.”
    Sunni hesitated, then finally nodded. “Yes, you can use my shower. Down the hall and to your right. Towels are—”
    “I’ll find them.”
    Sunni watched him saunter out of her kitchen. A minute later she heard him whistle. Knowing why he had been inclined to do so, she squeezed her eyes shut as she imagined him standing in her bathroom, his eyes assessing the naked lovers etched on her shower door. The phantom-lover idea was a bit over the top—another decorating liberty she’d taken.
    The walls in the bathroom she’d left white, opting to use color in the fixtures instead. She’d chosen decadent lavender, and used a deep shade of plum slate for the shower and flooring. The etched glass shower door had been custom made—the naked lovers entwined in a carnal embrace inspired by a private fantasy that kept her company most nights.
    She waited, listened for the second whistle. When it came, she knew he’d opened the shower door and found the ceiling mirror.
    An odd noise out on the terrace was a welcome distraction, and Sunni left the kitchen and shoved back the curtain in the living room to find Jackson’s partner pawing at her door frame. “Stop that,” she scolded.
    Instead of heeding her warning, the dog began to work faster, his long claws digging deep grooves into the vulnerable wood frame.
    “No!” Sunni unlocked the door and shot it open. “I said stop!”
    The German shepherd was inside her apartment in one aggressive leap. His next move put him on his hind legs and in Sunni’s face. She staggered backward into the bookshelf as the dog planted his paws on her shoulders, then offered her a kiss that sent his long tongue over her face from chin to forehead in one very wet, slippery slurp.
    “Nooo…” She shoved the dog down and wiped slobber off the end of her nose and chin. Still leaning against the bookshelf, she watched him bolt across her white carpet and down the hall. Seconds later he was back—his interest focused on the kitchen. She was still against the bookshelf wiping slobber when he stood on his hind legs, put his paws on the island counter and looked across it at her.
    She cringed as his sharp dark eyes studied her, then the living room. A vision of him lifting his leg on the edge of one of her sofas made her groan out load. The noise brought his attention back to her, and that’s when she noticed he was missing part of one ear. His many scars made him look like a bad boy who had enjoyed earning the title, and as arrogant as his two-legged partner.
    Suddenly he made one powerful lunge that easily carried him over the counter and put him in the middle of one of her leather sofas.
    “Omigod!” Sunni’s jaw dropped, then dropped another inch as he bounced over her glass coffee table to the other sofa without touching the floor. Wagging his tail as if he’d just been given the key to the castle, he jumped over the back of the sofa and nearly took out her eighteen-hundred-dollar Tiffany.
    “No!” She made a mad dash to rescue the red-and-amber Calafar. “Jackson!”
    The dog jackknifed around and looked at her as if she’d said the magic word. Suddenly he barked, then started spinning in a circle in the middle of the roam.
    Sunni abandoned the lamp and raced down the hall yelling for Jackson. On reaching the bathroom door, she jerked it open and…
    Sunni wanted to move, she really did, but her feet felt as if they’d been nailed to the floor. She didn’t hear what Jackson said as he met her gaze. His lips were moving, but the shower spray prevented the words from escaping the erotic glass cage that held him captive. His hand reached for the lavender towel atop the rim of the shower. The shower door opened.
    He