Read Strip Search for Free Online

little wounded pride. There are holes in your story, Mark Gabriel." Her savvy gaze raked him. "I don't have time for this. If you came to say something, say it. Otherwise, I have a business downstairs that needs attention."
    Direct. No sugar-coating her words. Mark admired her ability to cut to the chase even as he held in a curse.
    He sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you ..."
    Not knowing what else to say, he started with a watered-down version of the truth. "At nineteen, I petitioned the court for custody of my younger sister. Our parents were both dead. Not long after, I found out I had stage two melanoma. I had surgery, chemo, all kinds of medication. I lost my job, had no health insurance, and had to rely on my sixteen-year-old sister for virtually everything."
    "You had cancer?"
    "I got the skin grafting on the back of my neck to prove it. My sister tells me I look like a refugee from an eighties metal band, but I keep my hair long to cover the scars."
    Nicki smiled. "You look more than healthy now."
    Her smile contained enough suggestion to turn up the temperature of his blood. He'd ten times rather pursue that than this conversation, which was getting out of hand.
    "I'm definitely healthy and cancer free. I use sunscreen when I'm outdoors, get checked regularly, exercise religiously, flirt with pretty girls."
    Was it his imagination, or had she relaxed a little?
    "Yeah, you got the flirting part down. So the bastards you worked for fired you?"
    He nodded. "But once I got well, I found another job. That's when the embezzlement thing came up. Around that same time, my sister got married and moved away. I ... got out of a relationship. I realized I had nothing to tie me to Florida but bad memories. I left."
    Mark clenched his jaw and looked away. As explanations went, that was too much. Way too much. He needed to shut up. Nothing like opening his mouth and vomiting out the lowlights of his life. God, why not just tell her that he'd gone completely bald during chemo? Or that Tiffany, his ex-wife, had married him solely to ensure he went to prison for her embezzlement? Maybe he should give her the blow-by-blow of the cavity search he'd endured when entering jail. Seriously, if he was going to spill his guts, why not go for the gold? What the hell had happened to his suave idea of charming her?
    Embarrassment stung like a sharp slap to the face.
    Out of the comer of his eye, Mark saw Nicki sidle closer. She bit her bottom lip and looked at him, not with pity in her eyes, but understanding.
    "Actually, I left New York for a lot of the same reasons you don't like it. I miss the pizza. I loved watching fireworks over Lady Liberty on the Fourth of July. But the rest ... I could do without. My uncle was a nightmare. He still is. But I know about having a reputation you didn't exactly earn and wanting to leave it all behind."
    Amazing. The starch in her posture was gone, arms dropped from their guard-duty across her chest to dangle at her sides. Something he'd said reached her, rather than made her think he was a head case throwing a pity party.
    "Really?"
    Nicki shrugged, wearing a rueful smile. "I ran with a fast crowd, but could never keep up. I didn't want to. My mom had lived that life. It didn't interest me much."
    Something vulnerable shone in her eyes, and Mark had the urge to hold her. "Her life bothered you."
    "It's not as if I was some kid at home completely alone night after night. I had a great nanny. Our doorman was the grandfatherly type. I saw my mom every afternoon and spent weekends with my dad, stepmother, and half-sister. And you're changing the subject again!" She sent him a sharp stare that seemed to see right through him. "I'll bet you do that a lot."
    Mark couldn't keep the smile from creeping across his face. "Busted. It's a common complaint of my sister's."
    Laughing, Nicki faced him, her face lit up with amusement. Next to him, she was a tiny thing, small boned and not particularly tall. But her