Angela, Carla - Full Exposure (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Free

farther. He wasn’t that much of a hobo, she noted. He had Calvins on. But he was still standing unnervingly close to her. The Labrador had since taken a position between them, resting at his owner’s feet.
    ‘Uh, where might be a good place to do it? Somewhere we can sit?’ Lake pushed on.
    ‘Hmmm…’ Hunter scratched his square jaw, which bore a faint, blond-tinged five-o’clock shadow. ‘Oh, I got it, follow me.’
    Lake dropped into step behind Hunter, his Labrador obediently trotting after him, her Converse-sneaker-clad feet barely making a sound on the polished floorboards.
    Suddenly, Hunter turned back. ‘Want me to carry that? It looks kind of heavy,’ he said, gesturing at her backpack.
    Lake held her head aloft. ‘No, it’s fine.’ He had the look of someone who might run off with the expensive photography equipment she’d scrimped and saved for, although his prestigious address begged to differ. Still, he did have the air of a squatter.
    Lake was led down the spacious hallway to an open-plan living and dining area with a sleek kitchen, full of shiny, stainless steel, European appliances and, near the windows, a lengthy, white lounge with red throw cushions and a black shag rug at its foot. Black sheer blinds barely concealed the tennis court and swimming pool the space overlooked.
    Hunter pushed open a glass bifold door and continued outside, still barefoot. The Labrador and Lake followed after him. Lake felt the sun instantly licking her face like the pooch just had.
    Hunter finally paused near the gleaming, rectangular-shaped, blue-tiled pool in a covered outdoor entertaining area. There was a black wicker sofa and chair, both sporting lime-green cushions, and an outdoor bar. ‘Will this do?’
    ‘Uh, sure,’ Lake said, not wanting to seem too impressed, dropping her backpack onto the black-tiled floor and taking a seat on the sofa. Though, in truth, it was shaping up not to be too shabby a day at the office. She leant down to pluck her clipboard and pen from her backpack.
    Here though, she felt like she should be wearing a white, skimpy bikini and oversized, gold hoop earrings, not a denim jacket, black tee, khaki cargo pants, and no bling. Not that pale swimwear would do her white-chocolate-like skin any justice—it just seemed fitting.
    Still, her job required she dressed for comfort, because she never knew what position she might have to get into to secure the right shot—kneeling, on her side, on her back. Lake blushed again, even though this time she hadn’t been as stupid as to say anything out loud. Really! Her train of thoughts today was shaping up to be equally as grotty as Hunter’s attire.
    When she looked up again, Hunter was behind the sleek outdoor bar. ‘Fancy a drink…or would you rather a quick dip first?’
    ‘ What? ’ Lake exclaimed, before she could stop herself.
    Hunter threw back his head and laughed, flaunting his manly Adam’s apple. It was a deep, throaty sound. ‘I was only joking—well, about the dip. Unless, of course, you’re keen. I just thought a drink might help me loosen up a bit for the photos. And it’d feel rude to drink alone.’
    ‘Oh, okay.’ Lake felt her shoulders relaxing. She guessed one tiny drink wouldn’t hurt, although it didn’t seem like Hunter really needed any help unwinding. He seemed fairly confident in his own skin, as dishevelled as its cladding was. ‘Well, whatever you’re having is fine with me.’
    ‘Good. Hope you like red.’ Fortunately, she did. He went about fixing glasses of the bloodred liquid from an expensive-looking bottle. For a moment, it felt almost like she was on a romantic date. With a hobo.
    The Labrador padded over and nestled at Lake’s feet this time. She leant over and scratched its blond head, peering up at Hunter again. ‘What’s your dog’s name?’
    He paused mid-pour. ‘Scraps.’
    Scraps. Lake guessed it was better than…well… Flaps . Oh dear.
    Firmly, she focused her mind on the