Brown Siblings - 01 Laid Bare

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Praise for LAID BARE

“It’s impossible not to love this story. The sex is sizzling, the emotions are raw. Lauren Dane has done it again.
Laid Bare
, quite simply,
rocks
!”—Megan Hart, author of
Deeper
Praise for Lauren Dane and

UNDERCOVER

“Lauren Dane deftly weaves action, intrigue and emotion with spicy, delicious eroticism . . . a toe-curling erotic romance sure to keep you reading late into the night.”

—Anya Bast, national bestselling author of
Witch Heart

“Sexy, pulse-pounding adventure . . . that’ll leave you weak in the knees. Dane delivers!”—Jaci Burton, author of
Riding on Instinct

“Exciting, emotional and arousing.”

—Sasha White, author of
My Prerogative

“Fast-paced action, steamy romance.”

—Megan Hart, author of
Stranger

“Scintillating! . . . A roller coaster of emotion, intrigue and sensual delights . . . I was hooked from the first sentence.”

—Vivi Anna, author of
Veiled Truth

Berkley Heat titles by Lauren Dane

LAID BARE

RELENTLESS

UNDERCOVER

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

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Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2009 by Lauren Dane.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without

permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the

author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

HEAT and the HEAT design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

PRINTING HISTORY

Heat trade paperback edition / August 2009

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Dane, Lauren.

Laid bare / Lauren Dane.

p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-101-10625-9

1. Stalking victims—Fiction. 2. Bereavement—Psychological aspects—Fiction. 3. Triangles (Interpersonal relations)—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3604.A5L35 2009

813’.6—dc22 2009001331

http://us.penguingroup.com

This one is for Tracy

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you always, first and foremost, to my wonderful husband. Thank you for loving me despite my being a horrible housekeeper, especially around deadline time.

Laura Bradford, my friend and a fabulous agent, thank you for always being there and for believing in me.

Leis Pederson, you’re as shiny in person as you are via e-mail. Thank you so very much for being such a great editor.

Thanks to the Berkley art department, because this cover rocks my world, like, whoa!

Megan Hart, there are very few people in the world who
get
me and still love me. Thank you so very much for always being there and for making me laugh more than a girl ever has a right to.

Your advice is always good, your eye is always keen and you’re a dork just like me.

Anya Bast, you’re awesome. Thank you so much for being you. Ann Aguirre, thank you for those countless hours on IM! Renee and Mary, thank you so much for all the wonderful beta reading, thank you for moderating my message board and thank you for always being such wonderful, supportive friends!

And of course, thank you to my girls and those guys on my Vixenreader board! Heck, all my readers, new and old and those in between. Thank you for taking the time to pick up my books and read them. Thank you for reviewing them and talking about them! And thank you for all the lovely notes you send. You all make this gig so much more enjoyable.

1

Seattle, The Off Ramp

Ten Years Ago

Music, raw and hard like sex, pulsed through the speaker stack, caught the people in front of the stage, as much as it had her, in its grip.

The bass line throbbed through her like a second pulse as the scent of beer and sweat settled into her system. Sweat slicked her forehead and slid down the line of her spine. The muscles in her forearm corded as she played, her fingers finding their way as they had time and again. A secret smile marked her lips as her half-lidded eyes focused on something not visible to anyone else.

Yes, it was a man’s world up there, but she’d kicked down the door with her Doc Martens and

she wasn’t giving her spot to anyone else. She loved making music, and it fit her like a second skin. It made her alive.

Her dreads swung forward, partially obscuring her face—adding, she knew, to the overall effect.

Her belly, glistening with sweat, slid against the back of her bass where her shirt ended and her low-slung jeans began.

Up there, under the blue lights, she didn’t have to work at it. She
was.
She was exactly where she wanted to be, a guitar strapped to her body, calluses on her fingers from playing. The muscles in her upper arms were well defined because she hauled equipment around for gigs. There wasn’t any doubt, any self-consciousness. She lived the life she wanted.

Erin Brown had stopped apologizing for wanting things. She grabbed experiences with both hands and gobbled them down.

Even if the band never made it beyond small, local rock clubs, she’d be happy to just keep playing. There wasn’t much more you could ask for in life, and Erin accepted her blessings quite happily and graciously.

Todd took a pull from his beer, one leg bent as he leaned against the windowsill, looking out toward the street. There she was, getting out of her beat-up van. He had no idea why the hell he did it, but since he’d moved to the day shift he found himself at his window every night at six-fourteen to watch her make the walk from car to door.

She was so
not
the kind of woman who usually caught his eye. Still, his fingers gripped the sill as he greedily took in the way she moved. Like she couldn’t care less if people watched. Or worse, got off on it.

Long and lean, her gait ate up the walk, her dreadlocks swinging to her ass. A fine ass it was in those faded jeans. If he looked close enough, he saw the threadbare spots just beneath the pockets. Reflexively, he tightened his hands into fists as tension hummed through him.

Anticipation and a sort of need filled his gut as he watched her.

He snorted at what an idiot he was being.
Dreadlocks
. What woman wore dreadlocks? Not his sort of woman, that was all there was to it.

Time stopped, along with his heart, when she turned at her door and met his gaze with a smile. A smile that told him she’d known he watched. Surprised but rooted to the spot, he raised a hand in greeting. She paused a moment before tipping her chin at him. Briefly he relaxed as she turned back to her door, but that slid away when she paused again, dropped her bag on the porch and turned back toward his place.

Shit.

She was already on his doorstep by the time he’d put his beer down and opened the door to face her.

“Officer Keenan, how are you today?”

Her voice did things to him. Unwilling things. Low and smoky. It went with her eyes, a sort of brownish green, full of promises. Damn it, she was not what he wanted. And still he couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping to take in her nipples straining against the front of her shirt.

“Erin, I’ve told you, it’s Todd.” Yanking his gaze back to her face, he stood in the doorway, fighting the urge to invite her in. She put a hand on her hip and he caught the taut expanse of her belly exposed with the movement. And the glimmer of the ring she had there.

“I know, but I like calling you Officer Keenan. It’s sort of sexy. Very in-charge and authoritative.” She winked. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know we were having some people over later tonight. It shouldn’t be loud. You should come over if you’re going to be around.”

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