“Century, study lights on,” Eric announced, and the overhead lights flashed on. Immediately, she went from being in a dimly lit, one lamp room, to a full-on bright world. Piper blinked frantically as her eyes adjusted to the flood of illumination.

“Piper?” Eric crossed his arms over his chest and propped one broad shoulder against the doorframe. “What the hell are you doing?”

She grabbed for the fallen picture frame. “Getting something to eat.”

He frowned at her. “This isn’t the kitchen.”

“Yes, ahem…” Piper cleared her throat. “I missed the tour of the house, so I was trying to find…” But her voice trailed away. She’d just gotten a look at the photo in the frame. It was a photo of her. One in which she was grinning from ear to ear. She had her arm looped around Ben’s shoulders. “Why do you have a picture of me?” Her head whipped up as she gaped at him.

He sighed. His arms dropped, and he started his slow, silent stroll toward her. “It’s a picture of you and my brother.” Eric reached for the frame.

His fingers slid over hers. Was that deliberate? The quick jump of her heart said the move had been.

“You could have cut me out,” she mumbled. Why hadn’t he? Piper shook her head. He was confusing her so much. The last time they’d seen each other—a few weeks back at Christmas—he’d barely talked to her at all when he’d arrived at Ben’s holiday party. Of course, Eric’s supermodel of the moment had been at his side.

He usually had someone at his side.

“Why would I cut you out?” Now he looked genuinely perplexed.

She let go of the photo. There was no need for an undignified tug-of-war. “I’m not family.”

His eyes were on her. “No, you sure as hell aren’t.”

Why did that hurt? Why did she still let anything he said hurt her? Why had she always been too sensitive where Eric was concerned?

He put the frame back on his desk. Then his gaze drifted over her. “You…look…um…”

“The robe was in the bathroom. I guess one of your exes left it there?” And she felt way creeped out wearing a castoff. “Could I get something else? Like, do you have an old t-shirt or something I could borrow?” The robe was silk, a pale blue, and it hung to mid-thigh. It was sexy. Seductive. And so not her.

He swallowed. His eyes rose to meet hers. “Yeah, yeah, I have something.” And he started unbuttoning the white button-down that he wore.

Eric had sauntered into the study wearing loose jeans and a white button-down shirt. The long sleeves were undone at his wrists. She doubted that he’d gone to bed at all. And, now, apparently, he was stripping for her.