Keeping Victoria's Secret Read online

  KEEPING VICTORIA’S SECRET

  By

  MELINDA PETERS

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2013 by Melinda Peters

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter 1

  A naked man was probably the last thing Victoria expected to find in Nanna’s farmhouse, but at the top of the stairs when the bedroom door swung open at her touch, there he was. Tall, dark and handsome. Every woman’s fantasy. Mere inches away, water dripped from his curls onto some very impressive shoulders, then trickled down to the hair that spread lightly across his muscular chest trailing down to...Oh my god.

  Behind him, Vicky glimpsed curtains blowing gently at an open window. Her eyes returned to the man who had no business being there. This is so not right.

  “Who the hell are you, and what are you staring at?” he barked.

  Stunned, Vicky lifted her eyes to his. Man and woman stood motionless for a beat. Then everything began to move. Taking two quick steps back, she managed a weak high-pitched yelp. Then she stumbled sideways grunting in pain as her forehead slammed into the bedroom door jam. As she careened toward the stairs, her mind raced. Everything’s all wrong. What’s he doing here? Am I in the wrong house?

  A small old-fashioned throw rug decorated the upstairs hallway. It looked innocent enough, but when her right foot landed on it, the rug slid on the polished wood in one direction while she tumbled, arms flailing, in the other. One shoe flew from her foot, bouncing and skittering down the steps. As she fell, she was vaguely aware of someone shouting and her cell phone ringing from inside her purse. The back of her head hit the hardwood with a loud “thunk”, before everything went dark.

  * * *

  “What the hell?” Jack Conner stood, hands on bare hips, frowning down at the strange woman. Her hair was pulled into a bun and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses lay next to her.

  How did this idiot get in the house? I thought I locked the front door. Maybe she came in the back way? He couldn’t help smiling at the ridiculous situation. Well, she looks more like some old maid schoolteacher than a thief. Except old maid schoolteachers don’t wear sexy panties. When the girl fell, her long skirt had flown up, revealing red silk panties and some nice looking legs. She's not bad looking under those awful clothes.

  Jack sighed. She may be a trespasser, but she’s knocked herself out, so I guess I’ll have to call nine-one-one. Nah. It’ll take too long and I’ll never hear the end of it from the guys on the rescue squad when I tell them there’s an unconscious woman outside my bedroom.

  “I’d better call Doc Sweeney; he’ll get here faster anyway.” His friend, a retired doctor, lived less than a mile down the road. Can’t leave her here. Jack slid one arm beneath the girl’s knees and the other under her shoulders, gently lifting her. He certainly didn’t mind running his hands under those silky smooth legs. Carrying her to a spare bedroom, he carefully placed her on the bed, took another long look at those legs, and then sprinted for the phone.

  * * *

  Vaguely she realized the naked guy was carrying her. She felt his arm slide under her thighs and cool air on her bare skin. Oh my god. Where’s my skirt? Her eyes flickered open and she stiffened when she saw a hairy chest, and... What’s that? Oh, god. The guy’s turned on! Vicky closed her eyes as he laid her down on a soft bed, and braced herself for the worst. Head aching, heart pounding she waited, holding her breath. Then the door closed. He was gone.

  Vicky exhaled with relief, as the room spun in circles. This is so lame. If I were writing this scene, it would be so hot. Being carried off to bed by a handsome stranger should be way more fun, but I’m not writing. This is really happening.

  Where am I? She looked toward the closed door and felt a stab of pain. Ouch! Where’s the naked guy? Slowly, she turned her head to the right and looked outside. Through the open window was an unending sea of pale pink blossoms. That’s right. I remember driving here with apple trees in bloom everywhere.

  * * *

  “Where’s Mr. Douglas?” She checked her phone for the third time and sighed. No calls. “He should’ve been here almost an hour ago.” Her grandmother’s lawyer had arranged to meet her at the farm she’d inherited, but he hadn’t shown up.

  Impatient, she paced around the front yard admiring the orchards with their neat rows of flowering trees that surrounded the house. The day was perfect, cloudless and warm with a light breeze.

  Unwilling to wait any longer, she impulsively strode to the porch and mounted the steps to the front door and trying the knob, found it locked. Rattling the handle, she gave a frustrated stamp of her foot. “I wish he’d get here. I can’t wait to get inside.” Walking up and down the wide porch, she tried to peek inside the windows until she remembered the key.

  “I know it’s here somewhere.” Digging in her purse she finally found her grandmother’s key, wondering if it still fit the lock. To her amazement, the tumblers turned easily and the old door swung silently open. “No way,” she whispered.

  Cautiously stepping inside, she looked around the foyer as she closed the door. A comfortable living room was on the right, and dining room on the left. The house was even more charming than she’d imagined. There was the faint smell of age, wood and old furniture. To her surprise, it wasn’t very dusty and the house had a “lived in” look. On the dining room table, old mail and newspapers were scattered.

  Must be the caretaker’s. Mr. Douglas mentioned that the house was looked after by someone.

  Walking into the dining room, she was drawn to the handsome maple hutch on the back wall. “Oh wow, this is so nice,” she breathed admiring the wood. Curiously, she peered through the beveled glass and saw that it was filled with dishes. She opened the doors carefully and recognized the china. Nanna had described the delicate rose pattern in detail to her many times. Her china was still in the hutch. Why did she abandon it here so many years ago?

  Returning to the foyer, Vicky looked up the staircase admiring the carved banisters and newel posts. What was it like for Nanna as a young girl growing up here? I wonder what other memories are tucked away in this place.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. Where’s that lawyer anyway? Should I wait for him? She checked her phone, still no answer to her calls. The house was silent, except for the wind whispering through the trees outside.

  I wonder what the upstairs is like. Why should I wait for Mr. Douglas? It’s my house now. Right? She quietly mounted the stairs and at the landing where the stairs turned, stopped to look around her new house. “This is so cool,” she whispered. “My own home.”

  In the upstairs hallway, she looked at several closed doors, chose one at random, and opened it. The door swung inward revealing a tall, dark, good-looking man staring back at her, without a stitch of clothing on. Totally starkers.

  That’s when I tried to run and fell getting this nasty bump. Vicky touched the back of her head gingerly and winced. Questions ping ponged inside her aching head as she tried to figure out what all this meant.

  Where’s the naked guy now? Who the hell is he and what’s he doing in my house? And where’s that damned lawyer who was supposed to explain everything about the property?

  Aware of someone sneaking back into the room she quickly closed her eyes feigning sleep. Pe
eking through her lashes, she saw the naked mad man approaching her. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. What’s he going to do! What should I do? Maybe he’ll leave me alone if he thinks I’m hurt. Vicky tried to breathe slowly, but her heart was pounding.

  Something heavy dropped on the floor. When she finally dared to open her eyes, she was alone. Feeling the back of her throbbing head cautiously where there was a growing lump, she decided, “I can’t just lie here and wait for him to come back and molest me, or something worse.”

  Holding her aching head, she slid off the bed, lurched to the doorframe, and squinting against the pain, peeked out. She was just in time to see the naked man stagger drunkenly to the bottom of the stairs and disappear around the corner.

  Now what do I do? This is not cool. There’s a really strange, naked guy in my house! Who is he? Maybe he's a murderer, or rapist, on the run and wanted by the police? Oh my god! Backing into the room, she turned too fast and held her head, struggling to fight back the nausea that rose up. Then she noticed her bag spilled onto the carpet.

  “My phone. Thank you, God!” Holding onto the brass bed frame, she leaned over to dig frantically through the stuff in her bag. Trying to ignore her roiling stomach and the pounding in her head, she dug through keys, makeup, tissues, receipts, and wallet until she found her phone.

  With trembling fingers, she pressed the nine, and the one twice.

  The operator answered, “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

  She spoke in a whisper, terrified the naked man could hear her. “Nine-one-one? There’s a naked man in my house! I’m injured too.”

  “Ma’am, do you need an ambulance?”

  “No, I don’t think I’m hurt seriously, but a little. I hit my head somehow, but that’s not my real problem. There’s a naked man in my house.”

  “Ma’am, what is the nature of your injury?”

  “He’s in the house somewhere, and I’m afraid he’s going to attack me. Please send help. My name is Victoria Buonadies and I’m at…”

  “Please remain on the line. Ma’am? We’ve been able to locate you by the GPS in your phone and we’re sending help. Can you tell me if the man is armed?”

  She was digging deep in her aching brain, trying to remember the address of her grandmother’s house. “It’s in Pippen’s Grove, the Willet Farm. It’s a white farmhouse, a little back from the road. I just got here and this crazy guy jumped out at me. I have no idea who he is. I’m so scared and oh God, I feel sick. Are you sending police or help?”

  “Yes ma’am. They’re on their way now. Please remain on the line until they arrive. Is the man armed?” the operator patiently asked again.

  “Armed? He’s naked!” Puzzled, she held the phone in front of her and frowned at it, then added, “Maybe he’s, god, I don’t know, going to rape me. Why else would he be running around naked?”

  “Yes ma’am. Is he carrying a gun or a knife?”

  Dazed and feeling very sick to her stomach, she finally answered. “Oh God, I hope not! What should I do if he has a knife or something? I don’t think he does. The only thing he’s carrying is...”

  Downstairs the doorbell chimed loudly and someone began pounding on the front door. Startled, she shrieked and the phone flew across the room and skittered under a dresser.

  Clutching the bedpost Vicky swayed, fighting for control while she listened to the little squeaking voice of the nine-one-one operator, coming from under the dresser. For what seemed an eternity she held on, afraid to move.

  Listening to voices from downstairs, she wondered who was at the door. If the police are here, why don’t they come up and save me? Maybe they won't get here in time.

  The floor creaked and she realized the naked guy must be coming back. Is there someone else with him? I won’t just lie here helplessly; I’ll fight for my life. Despite the pain and nausea, and the drumming in her head, Vicky staggered to her feet. Off balance, wearing only one shoe, she grabbed a table lamp, determined to defend herself.

  * * *

  When he realized the crazy girl had actually lost consciousness, Jack backed away from the bed and quickly left the room. “I’d better get Doc over here right away,” he mumbled under his breath, more concerned now that she’d stopped screaming. Just what I need! Some sort of groupie nut case sneaking into my house and spying on me in the shower. Maybe I shouldn’t have moved her. They say you shouldn’t move people who are injured, right? Too late now.

  Hurrying across the landing, his bare foot caught the woman’s enormous leather bag where she’d dropped it. “Shit, shit, shit!” he said grabbing his little toe and dancing on one leg. “I think I broke it. Man! What else is going to happen?” Sighing with disgust, he bent to pick up her purse. What the hell does that nut keep in here? This thing weighs a ton. He eased back into the bedroom and dropped it unceremoniously near the bed.

  Briefly he gave her a once over. What a frump! Where’d she get those old lady clothes? And what’s with that big bun thing on the back of her head? Hey, she’s not moving at all. She must’ve hit her head pretty hard to be knocked out like that. I’d better hurry and get Doc over here right away.

  He hobbled downstairs trying not to put any weight on his sore foot. Limping naked across the cold kitchen linoleum, he lifted the receiver of the old rotary phone to call the doctor. Why couldn’t Uncle Charley have put in an upstairs extension? As he listened to distant ringing, Jack couldn’t help grinning as he recalled the vision of smooth shapely legs and red silk panties. Not bad, but a little weird.

  As he hung up the wall phone, the doorbell rang, followed by insistent rapping.

  “Doc said he’d be here immediately, but he’s not that fast. Who the hell could this be?” He limped gingerly toward the door and was relieved to see the face of his friend Vince Cangelosi on the other side of the glass. He wrenched the door open.

  “Hey! Keep your pants on Vince!

  He and Vince stared at one another for a moment. His friend was in his police uniform, obviously on duty. In stark contrast, Jack was still naked.

  Frowning, the police officer shouldered him aside. “My pants are on but you seemed to have misplaced yours, Bud. Mind if I take a look around?”

  “Come on in Vince, I just got out of the shower. Maybe you can help me. Gotta, I don’t know, sort of a situation. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Vince’s partner stood on the lawn next to the open door of their patrol car staring at him. There was something odd about the man’s expression, and he had his radio in one hand, the other resting on his holstered revolver. From the radio came inarticulate squawking from the police dispatcher. He had the distinct impression that Vince and his sidekick weren’t here on a social call.

  Vince stepped into the hall, removed his hat, and stared hard at him.

  “I’ve got this woman upstairs, maybe you can help me,” he blurted.

  Vince’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve never known you to ask for help with a woman. Where is she?”

  “Well, I’ve got her in the front bedroom. The crazy girl practically jumped into the shower with me and scared the shit out of me.”

  “I see. Hope you don’t mind Jack; I’m going to come in and look around. Fact is we got a nine-one-one call from this house. A girl claiming someone was about to rape or attack her. She wasn’t talking about you was she? Can’t imagine you attacking somebody, but then…” Vince paused, considering Jack’s naked body. “This girl did say that there was a guy running around without his clothes on. That you she was talking about?”

  He looked down at himself and blushed. “I knew she was some kind of crazy nut job! She actually called nine-one-one? Attack her? Rape? I don’t think so Vince. Let me get dressed and explain. Honestly, I’m coming out of the shower and she was just... damn. I’ll go get dressed,” he started for the stairs.

  “Wait.” The cop looked from side to side, into living and dining rooms as though he expected to see a frightened girl peeking out. He took a step or two, b
ending down and retrieving a shoe from where it had fallen to the foot of the stairs. Holding it up, they both could see that it was a woman’s high-heeled shoe. Vince frowned and raised his brows in question.

  He opened his mouth to respond to the cop, but then shut it again.

  “Hey Jack, if this was some sort of blind date that went sour, well, just say so. We got this call. You understand we have to see the girl and make sure everything’s all right?”

  Frustrated, he sighed and ran fingers through hair still wet and uncombed. “Yeah Vince, but she just showed up here without any warning. Got into the house somehow and was at the door when I got out of the shower. Never seen her before in my life, I swear! She slipped and hit her head on the floor, but Doc Sweeney will be here in a minute. Guess I kind of startled her. Come on up and you can see for yourself.”

  The cop stared at him, one brow still raised in question, or disbelief? Vince can't possibly think I'm guilty of something, could he?

  “Jack, you stay down here, I’m going up and talk to her. I’ve got the impression maybe she’s seen enough of you already, if you understand me.” With that, the officer started up the stairs, leaving him unsure what to do next. His decision was quickly made for him.

  Footsteps sounded on the front porch and he turned to see that the door still stood open and now there were three startled faces looking at him. One was that of Vince’s partner, one was that of Doc Sweeney, whom he was very glad to see. The third person amused at the sight of his naked body was Doc’s wife, Elvira.

  Horrified, he turned and ran limping back to the kitchen searching for some scrap of cloth to cover himself. All of his clothes were upstairs. Desperately, he opened kitchen drawers looking for something, anything. Maybe there’s something in the cellar? No time for that.