Luckily for my modesty, the door doesn’t open into a busy corridor, but instead reveals a steep flight of stairs. I waste no time chasing Lara up the steps, taking advantage of the way her superior position on the stairs allows me to ogle her ass and the deep V of her back her unzipped dress frames.

Provided the view remains the same, I’d happily follow her into the very depths of hell.

She stops on the narrow landing at the top of the stairs, where there are three more doors. She digs a key out of God knows where and unlocks the farthest door – and the only one that has a Halloween wreath adorning it. She pushes it open, swats at a light switch on the wall, and steps aside. “Be my guest.”

Curious about where she’s brought me, I cross over the threshold and find myself in a small apartment. The door leads directly into a small sitting room that features an enormous green leather couch that, but for the color, could be a twin to the one we just left.

The room is done in warm jewel tones, from a maroon carpet to bright green walls. Watercolors and black and white African prints hang everywhere, and a small plain hutch sits in a far corner, its shelves all but sagging under the weight of several small glass and ceramic knick-knacks.

I like it. What the room lacks in style, it makes up for with warmth and a general sense of homeyness.

I glance over my shoulder at Lara as she pulls the door closed with one hand, using the other to tug a thin strap back onto her shoulder.

“Yours?”

She nods. “Having a place to live, rent free, is a huge perk. There are two more apartments up there, both a little bigger than this one, that I’m hoping to fix up this winter and rent out. The income from those will just about cover the cost of my mortgage.”

“That’s smart. I imagine vacancies don’t last long in a city this size.”

Lara shakes her head. “I’m already fielding calls from people. I don’t even know how they know the apartments exi—”

A small animal darts through a doorway and races to her. It skids to a stop in the middle of the room, barking four times at me before resuming its charge. A few feet from Lara, it launches itself into the air.

Laughing, Lara drops to her knees and catches it against her chest, the movement causing the shoulder strap she just fixed to slide back down her arm.

I stare at the dog. The only reason I can tell it’s a dog is because it barked at me; otherwise, I’d be at a loss for what to call it besides … ugly.

“Is this also yours?”

I can’t keep the dismay out of my voice.

The little creature braces its front white-tipped paws on her collar bone and frantically licks her face.

“You betcha,” Lara confirms. “Atticus, this is Paul. Paul, Atticus.”

I eye the thing. “What happened to its hair? Why is it bald?”

With the exception of a shaggy tuft of hair on the end of its long, whip-like tail, some thin whips on the lower part of his leg and a miserable blond mane that covers the front of its face, part of its ears, and extends a little way down its neck, the dog is hairless.

“Of course not.”

Acting as if I just suggested we throw him out the second story window, Lara clutches the small animal to her chest. “Atticus is a Chinese Crested. Some have hair, sure, but Atticus is a hairless version. He’s pedigree. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

I shake my head. Watching Atticus is kind of like looking at a particularly gruesome accident; it’s so ugly, I want to look away, but it’s like my eyeballs are glued to its thin, bare body.

“No. Where I come from most everybody has big dogs. There’s a lot of labs, shepherds, and pit bulls.”

Real dogs. Hairy dogs. Dogs that would most likely wet themselves laughing if they ever came across the skinny thing in Lara’s arms. “Why the hell would you choose to own a naked dog like that one?”

Lara wraps a protective arm around him. “There’s nothing wrong with Atticus. He’s every bit as sweet and loyal as any of those labs and pit bulls your friends own. Plus, he doesn’t shed and he’s hypoallergenic. That’s why my family got into Chinese Crested dogs in the first place. My older sister is extremely allergic, so this breed was one of our few options.”

Her eyes rake over my body. “Besides. You’re not exactly in a position to have a negative opinion when it comes to nudity.”

Shit.

I completely forgot that I didn’t bother getting dressed before following her upstairs. Under most circumstances, I don’t mind being nude. It’s liberating, and Lara has made it more than clear that she likes looking at my body, but there’s something about the way the dog is studying me with his small, diamond-bright eyes, that makes me very uncomfortable. It’s like he’s judging me and finds me lacking in some way.

I drop everything but the jeans – which I start to pull on.

Lara gently nudges the dog, Atticus, off her lap and climbs to her feet.

“I can’t stand the feel of myself anymore. I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home.” She glances down at the little pile of laundry by my bare feet. “Do not let Atticus chew up my underwear.”

With those final words, she sashays across the room and opens a door I presume leads to the washroom. It closes tightly behind her.

With a small, snuffling sound, Atticus trots to the couch and jumps up. He turns and plops his little hairless butt down on the cushion and proceeds to sit there, staring at me.

I return his stare.

“I refuse to be intimidated by you,” I say, casting Lara’s guardian a cautious glance. But Atticus doesn’t blink. He doesn’t give any indication that he’s worried about me in the slightest.

I guess I know who’s boss…

I glance down at the pile of laundry. Normally, I’d just leave them there. They’re not hurting anyone, and would be easy for the cleaning lady to find and pick up. Of course, I’m guessing that Lara considers a cleaning service a luxury she can’t afford, meaning she’ll have to pick up the clothes.

And then there’s Atticus.

“You wouldn’t eat her underwear, would you?”

The dog doesn’t respond, but something about the look in his eye makes me think that now that the idea has come up, it seems like a good one. Having seen how fast he moves, I wouldn’t put it past him to take a running leap off the couch, snag the underwear, and disappear to God only knows where before I have a chance to react.

Sighing heavily, I bend and scoop up the laundry and carry the pile across the room. I poke my head into the room the dog emerged from. It’s a very pretty bedroom.

Good.

Tossing the laundry on the floor, I pull the door closed and smirk at the dog. “There, that takes care of that problem.”

I swear Atticus rolls his eyes before lying down on the couch and resting his narrow head on his front paws.

“Now, if you don’t mind—” I nod at the bathroom door and try not to feel like an idiot for talking to the dog. “But this is one shower I don’t want to miss. So you just stay right there and don’t eat anything you shouldn’t. Okay?”

I don’t wait for him to answer. I nudge the washroom door open and step into the dense steam cloud swirling on the opposite side.