Bound By Deception Freed By Love

A naked woman was in his shower. And it wasn't even someone he knew, It was a stranger, stripped naked just as the day she was born while having a blast in his shower.

Xander McQueen was clueless about her identity. At the very least, he didn't believe he had previously seen any of the flesh he was gaping at from the transparent glass door of his shower.

With his heart thumping and his thoughts still hazy from sleep, he froze, wide-eyed in between the bedroom and bathroom floor of his elegant apartment in Kensington, London.

He ran a hand through his tangled brown hair and mumbled to himself, "You're dreaming."

He must have pressed the snooze button one too many times the previous night.

That had to be it! Or what else could explain this? No sober man would wake up to the sound of running water and a tall, curvy blonde singing off-key in his shower.

But then, why wasn't he enjoying it if it was indeed a dream? Because he felt a tight coil of distrust tightening in his gut instead of excitement.

He wasn't daydreaming. He was making calculations in his head. He was thinking of possible escape paths. Domestic weapons. Backup. Phone…. in that sequence.

However, his curiosity soon took the best of him. He took a step towards her. She appeared as a silhouette of sun-kissed skin and her long, damp hair was only a little blurry through the frosted glass.

Completely relaxed, as though she were supposed to be there, she swung here and there while cleaning.

Xander gave a blink. But not at all, he wasn't dreaming. She was still there. Still naked. And the situation was still a total mystery to him.

How on earth had she entered? The locks were the latest in technology. Cams for security. The floor had a private elevator. No one just wanders into the penthouse in Kensington.

However, she had.

And now, as if this were a spa commercial, she was soaping herself and singing about daisies.

Ready to pick up his phone and dial security, he pivoted on his heel.

But just then, the bathroom glass door whoosed open and she walked right out. Dripping. Grinning while still naked.

As if this were coffee and pastries on a patio, she remarked brightly, "Good morning, Xander, hon. Had a good sleep?"

Having stopped in his tracks, he blinked. "You know my name?"

"I certainly do, hon." She tossed a strand of damp hair over one shoulder. "I take it you don't remember me." Her tone was overly upbeat. Her big, blue eyes were too delighted. And her smile? An unadulterated mayhem encased in silk.

He cautiously remarked, "I don't think we've met," before snatching up a towel from a nearby stand and thrusting it towards her.

She didn't recoil. She simply chuckled. "Calm down. Don't look at me as I'm insane. I'm not.”

"Arguable." Xander muttered under his breath, his hand still holding the clean