Kelsey Roberts

Film at Eleven


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      Chandler swallowed. Up to that point he’d been trying to ignore the fact that she was clad in a pale-pink, very clingy robe. Though it was knotted tightly at her waist and fell modestly to just above her knees, it was, in fact, covering her very naked body.

      He was going to burn in hell. No ifs, ands or buts. This poor woman had done nothing but fill in on his show and all of a sudden she was caught in the cross-hairs of some sicko. And what am I doing? his own voice sneered inside his head. Lusting. Big-time.

      Molly sucked in a slow breath. It didn’t help his lust quotient. Nope. Not when the fabric pulled taut across her chest, leaving virtually nothing to his overactive imagination.

      “I let the machine pick up,” she continued.

      He tried not to focus on the low, sensual cadence of her voice as it caressed his ears.

      “I was reading, so I didn’t get the message right away.”

      “That explains the delay,” Seth remarked. “Is the time stamp accurate on the machine?”

      She nodded. “But I already checked the caller ID, it was from a blocked number.”

      “If you give him permission, Seth can dump the LUDs.”

      She blinked, then directed those wide, gray-green eyes in his direction. He wanted to go to her and gather her in his arms. The old, me man, you woman, B.S. Ridiculous. As if she wasn’t freaked out enough after the day she’d had.

      Down boy, he cautioned his libido.

      “LUDs?” she asked.

      “Local usage details,” Chandler supplied, relaxing a little. “Knowing the date and time of the call, the phone company can pinpoint where the call originated even from a blocked line.”

      His remark caused the concern to drain from her face. In its place, color returned, leaving her with a freshly washed glow that only seemed to heighten her attractiveness. Chandler made the fatal mistake of stealing a glance in his brother’s direction. Maybe she wasn’t picking up on his secret fantasies, but one look at Seth told him his brother knew full well what direction his thought processes had taken.

      Chandler decided to ignore his brother for the moment and silently commanded his mind and body to re-focus. “Is your home number listed?”

      She shook her head, allowing a few strands of dark-blond hair to fall forward. She shoved them back off her face, then said, “No.”

      “But there was a message from one of your patients?” Seth prompted. “Do you give your home number to your patients.”

      “I have remote access to my office voice mail. That call from Mr. Boyle actually went to my office.”

      “How do you know the difference?”

      She explained the system, then added, “I do give some patients my home number. It depends on the circumstances.”

      “So, your number is out there,” Chandler concluded, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

      “Selectively,” she replied, a twinge of annoyance in her tone. “I treat a variety of patients. Some for years. I only give out my home number to those select few people I know don’t pose a threat to me.”

      “Ever been wrong?” Chandler countered.

      Her eyes narrowed slightly before she answered. “No. Not once.”

      He knew he couldn’t make the same claim, so he wondered about the veracity of her statement but decided this wasn’t the right time to challenge her.

      “Mind if I look around?” Seth asked.

      “For what?” she asked.

      “I just want to check out the windows and locks, I’ll have the officer who responded to your call do the exterior.”

      Seth’s question seemed to drain some of the color from her face. “That’s sweet of you. And yes, I’m careful never to leave anything unlocked, but a second pair of eyes never hurts. Especially not when I consider that John has already managed to get his hands on my unlisted, private number.”

      She rose, Seth stood, so Chandler did the same. He went along for the walk, not so much because he didn’t think his brother was capable of securing her home, but just out of sheer curiosity. Besides, he knew that eventually, he’d get a grand tour of her bedroom, and he pretty much planned to savor that moment.

      “…is all there is to it,” she finished, leading the parade of very large Landry men into the private sanctuary of her bedroom.

      Seth went directly to the window, whereas Chandler made a beeline directly to her bookcase. When he reached for her copy of In Too Deep, maybe her all-time favorite L. S. Connor novel, she had to swallow the urge to yell, “Don’t touch that!” at his very impressive back.

      Impressive wasn’t a good enough word. Nope, not for Chandler Landry. A decent sale at her favorite boutique could be called impressive. This man needed something more, an adjective that captured his absolute, unfettered perfection. No wonder he had garnered fame in the Jasper dating world. Heck, in this world he was a god among mortals. At least when compared to her pretty average dating options. Molly wasn’t a nun, but she truly couldn’t remember ever having such an extreme emotional and physical reaction to a man. It was as though every fiber of her being had Chandler radar as she watched him flip through her most-prized possession.

      Nerves still frazzled, adrenaline still pumping, she needed a distraction right now. And what better distraction than Chandler? She noted every detail—from his clothing to his expressively handsome face.

      His jeans fit like a second denim skin, particularly around the thighs, where the fabric was worn and tight, encasing powerful legs that her brain instantly stripped naked.

      Mentally scolding herself didn’t seem to help. Nope, libido had saturated her intellect. She’d wanted a distraction from fear, and what better way than to replace it with lusty thoughts. Just because she was thinking about him naked didn’t mean she had to act on that impulse. She just went with it. His hips and waist were narrow, but, given his height and the breadth of his massive shoulders, she was hard-pressed to classify him as anything other than huge.

      Normally she would have considered that a definite deterrent. She wasn’t usually attracted to large men, maybe because she didn’t like feeling physically inferior to anyone. But tonight, as the clock on her bedside table rolled close to 2:00 a.m., had he crooked his finger in her direction, she would have taken a running jump.

      She took an involuntary and protective step backward, almost touching the wall in her desire to put some distance between herself and the handsome image of Chandler running his fingertips over her coveted books.

      She swallowed the lump of primal desire that was trying desperately to lodge in her dry throat. So what if he was more than six feet of chiseled perfection. It didn’t matter that his eyes were a rich brown, flecked with just enough gold to elevate them out of the “ordinary” category. And the man had a great body, so great, in fact, that she was sure the mere memory would haunt her dreams.

      “That does it,” Seth said.

      You have no idea, she thought, plastering as benign a smile on her face as possible.

      “We’ll be going, now,” Seth continued, walking toward the second floor hallway.

      “Unless you’d like me—uh, us to stay.” Chandler offered.

      Us? No. You? Bigger no. “I’m fine now,” she insisted, flattening herself against the wall so that no part of his massive and appealing frame made contact with her.

      He paused, looming large above her. He was close, close enough for her to feel the warm wash of his breath against her upturned face.

      Speaking of breath, Molly was holding hers. A fact she was fairly sure wasn’t lost on him. She based that on the slightly self-satisfied