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He frowned. Had someone broken in? As far as he knew, Archer wasn’t planning a visit any time soon.
He knocked on the front door. “Sheriff’s Department.”
There was no response. He suspected if there was someone here, they couldn’t hear him over the racket of the smoke alarm. He tried the door handle, and it opened. He entered and briefly touched the gun holster on his hip. There was no smoke at least.
“Sheriff’s Department.” He walked through to the sleek living area. Hell, it sure was something, with a shiny, marble-tile floor and furniture with clean, modern lines. He had a perfect view of the glittering pool, and the ocean beyond. He turned into the kitchen, and the smell of smoke hit him.
He took another step, then his brain sort of short-circuited.
The first thing he saw was sleek, smooth legs.
The woman was standing on a chair, wrapped in a towel, and reaching for the blaring alarm. The towel barely covered what Sawyer assumed was a very naked body. Her long, dark hair was wet and falling over her smooth shoulders in a loose mess, so he guessed she’d just come out of the shower. His gaze drifted lower. Her toenails were painted red.
He cleared his throat, attempting to get her attention, and let his brain cells start firing again. She didn’t hear him.
“You damn, annoying, crazy-inducing—” She went up on her toes.
The towel rose another inch, barely covering anything.
He took a step closer. Her head whipped up, and brilliant-blue eyes went wide.
And for the first time in his life, Sawyer forgot his own name.
She had a beautiful, oval-shaped face, with pale, creamy skin, and perfect lips. Her hair wasn’t brown as he’d first thought, but a deep red.
And he realized he’d seen it before.
She let out a squeak and lost her balance.
Sawyer lunged forward and caught her before she hit the floor. She landed in his arms.
“Oh, my God.” She pressed a hand against his chest.
He set her on her feet, and she scrambled away from him. The towel slipped and with a gasp, she grabbed for it.
Too late.
The towel slithered to the floor, leaving Hollis Stanton—Hollywood’s hottest, Oscar-winning actress—naked.
Hollis froze.
Oh, God. Thoughts ran through her head, lightning fast. The smoke alarm was ringing painfully in her ears. She was naked—something she usually got paid a lot of money for. And there was a strange man in her house.
Added to all that, her coffee machine was on fire.
The man stepped closer and picked up the towel.
Oh… She snatched the towel and wrapped it around herself. Her throat tightened. Why was this guy in her house? Was he going to hurt her?
Swallowing, she met the man’s gaze. He was staring at her with a kind of entranced look on his face. Then he shook his head, like he was waking himself up.
“Sheriff’s Department, ma’am.”
Sheriff?Hollis blinked, and that’s when she realized he was wearing a uniform—khaki shirt and dark green pants.Oh, sheriff. Relief punched through her. The tan shirt was stretched tight over massive shoulders, a broad chest, and muscular arms.
Wow. Hawaii knew how to make their sheriffs.
The sheriff didn’t need the chair. He reached up, and with a ripple of muscles, turned off the smoke alarm.