Four Dukes and a Devil by Jeaniene Frost, Cathy Maxwell, Tracy Anne Warren, Sophia Nash, Elaine Fox

streamed out behind her in long, damp curls, some clinging to her naked back, some bouncing past her shoulders. A few strands adhered to her face. Her trim legs pumped hard, and he realized she wore the barest of panties in the palest of pinks—an odd concession to the perception that nudity might not be appropriate for a bike ride.
    Sam craned his neck and let his temple touch the windowpane as he watched her cycle past the house.
    Other than the panties, she was quite obviously naked. Firm, perky breasts pointed forward as she pedaled, her eyes looking neither left nor right but trained on the street in front of her as if willing herself invisible.
    That she was beautiful was abundantly clear. As was the fact that she was nuts.
    It only occurred to him after she’d rolled out of sight that she might have needed assistance. Like a robe, he thought, looking down at his tattered flannel. Or a car, he thought, glancing at the faded Nissan pickup in the drive.
    It was too late, however. She was gone. Like a bizarre dream. The ghost of Lady Godiva, he thought with a smile. On a Schwinn.

    Gray Gilliam nearly flung the bicycle into the shrubs at the end of the driveway and sprinted to the back door. She’d left it unlocked, but it balked as she pushed before she turned the knob, then refused as she turned the knob and pulled, then opened with a bang against the inside wall as she turned, pushed and stumbled into the mudroom.
    She panted, a stitch in her side so sharp she pressed it with one hand and bent forward.
    She had never been so humiliated in her life. Though she’d kept her eyes forward as she’d ridden home, she was sure somebody somewhere along the way had witnessed her disgrace. Now she’d have to wonder every time she got a strange look from someone if they’d seen her naked.
    Breath finally slowing close to normal, she flip-flopped out of the mudroom, across the kitchen, and headed for the stairs. Despite the fact that she was inside, goose bumps rose on her naked skin. She decided it was because of the chill inside the house and not because she felt as if she were being watched. The house was always cold, she reasoned.
    And she always felt like she was being watched, another voice in her head volunteered.
    While it was true, it was silly, she told herself. It made no sense to feel watched in this house. For one thing, the place sat on close to ten acres of private beachfront land, so no one was looking in the windows. And if there’d been someone inside the house, the creaking floorboards and unoiled door hinges would have alerted her to their presence immediately.
    She shivered. Her thin Virginia blood was simply unused to June in Massachusetts.
    She had just donned her fat white terry-cloth robe when the phone rang. She sprinted to the kitchen where the lone receiver was.
    “Do you love it?” her friend Rachel asked.
    Rachel almost always started a phone conversation in the middle, something Gray both enjoyed and wondered if she should disapprove of. She’d been taught to ask politely if someone was otherwise engaged before assuming a conversation was mutually agreeable.
    “The house,” Rachel elaborated. “Isn’t it perfect for a summer away?”
    “Of course it is! But oh, Rachel, you won’t believe what just happened to me!” She hunkered down into the plush leather armchair in the music room. It was her favorite chair, even though it put her in mind of how it must feel to sit in a giant leather baseball glove. “This morning was so beautiful I decided to go for a bike ride. And I was standing on the shore, over by the bay outside of town, and it was gorgeous and the water felt so warm, and I was thinking I really needed to be more like you—”
    “Gray, I hate it when you say things like that.” Rachel’s voice showed her displeasure.
    “I know you do, but it’s true. I’m way too self-conscious, for one thing, so I decided what you would do would be to—”
    “Wait! Let me guess. You