The Face of Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

clothes they found that would fit her slim frame.
    “You guys are the best,” she enthused. “Seriously, thank you .”
    “Our pleasure,” Dylan assured her.
    For a brief moment, as she pretended to adjust a corner of the bed sheet, Hazel thought he was going to give her a hug goodnight. But Dylan stepped away without contact and the tension between them evaporated so swiftly that Hazel suspected she’d imagined it in the first place.
    She followed him into the living room, watching as he turned down the lights. Provided he didn’t decide to throw them out, they would share Ward’s room tonight, the three of them crammed into a bed that usually accommodated Ward on his own, or, more rarely, Ward and Hazel.
    “He wouldn’t,” Dylan scoffed when Hazel joked about her suspicions. He looped an arm around her waist and gently but firmly walked her back toward the circular stairs. “He’ll want to make the most of it.”
    With his hand on her, Hazel found it nearly impossible to cling to restless doubts.
    No way was Dylan interested in Sadie. Didn’t he prove as much every second that he stroked his palm along her flank? He was just being a good host. Hazel grinned at him over her shoulder.
    “Oh, really? So under those still waters, he’s been plotting to get us into his bed all along, hmm?”
    “Precisely,” Dylan murmured. “Besides, if Ward doesn’t like something, he’ll make sure everyone knows it. He’s not one to suffer in silence.”
    You really don’t know, do you? Before Hazel could speak—not certain that what she meant to say needed pointing out, anyway—she cleared the top of the landing and noticed that Ward’s bedroom door was still open.
    The door of the en suite bathroom was likewise ajar, the pitter-patter of water on tile faintly audible from within.
    Dylan drew level with her and smirked. “What did I tell you?” he quipped, cocksure to a fault. “Almost looks like an invitation, doesn’t it?”
    “Mm, all we’re missing are the rose petals on the bed.” Jokes were useful currency when Hazel wasn’t quite sure where she stood.
    Dylan didn’t seem to have that problem. He barely hesitated for an instant before nudging the bedroom door shut and reaching for his belt buckle.
    “What are you doing?” Hazel asked, bemused but not indifferent.
    “A shower before bed can be very relaxing…or so I’ve heard.” Dylan arched his bushy black eyebrows. “Care to test the theory?”
    Hazel shut her mouth with a click. She had yet to refuse Dylan anything sexual. No reason to mess with a working model now . Her eyes on him, she hooked a hand in the back of her T-shirt and tugged it up and over her head. Ward wasn’t quite as maniacal about scattered clothes as Dylan, but he wouldn’t be too pleased when he saw the disorder in his room.
    If he saw it.
    Hazel toed off her sneakers and shucked off her jeans and underwear. She had every intention of making sure Ward was in no position to notice anything much at all by the time he went to sleep.
    The shower cubicle in Ward’s bathroom was a grotesquely lavish, all clear glass monster. It could easily have fit half a dozen people with room to spare. Hazel set aside the small frustrations that routinely crept up when she thought of how the rich spent their money and focused on what was relevant in the here and now. First, there was no curtain to conceal her from view when Ward spun around. Second, the tile underfoot was just coarse enough to keep him from taking a tumble.
    “Careful,” Hazel murmured unnecessarily, “wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.”
    “And who would we blame for that?”
    For all his quibbling, Hazel saw Ward sweep a slow, heated gaze down her body. Heat prickled along every inch of her flesh, something akin to pride igniting in her chest. He was welcome to look, but Hazel hoped he wouldn’t stop there.
    She stepped gingerly into the shower cubicle when Dylan held open the glass door.
    “I had something more