But I was not going to be one of those women, I told myself firmly.
Absolutely not.
He walked toward me, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe. Or act like a rational woman and step back.
“What are you doing?”
He reached around me, his finger touching the six on the cabin door that was still open behind me. I caught his fresh from the shower scent mixed with undiluted maleness. “This is cabin nine.”
I watched as the number swung against the door.
“Well, damn.” The number nine had clearly fallen down, making the number seem like a six.
“You’re probably in cabin six. It’s further down the path.” He paused and gave me another one of those full body looks. “Unless you want to rethink your accommodations.”
“Do you always treat cabin assignments like a suggestion list?”
He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Depends. Do you always barge into men’s rooms uninvited?”
I did take a step back this time, my heel hitting my fallen suitcase. “Look, Casanova Charlie, I don’t know who you’re used to charming with the whole towel-drop routine, but I’m not buying whatever you’re selling. Put some clothes on.”
“You sure about that?” he murmured, leaning in until his lips were a dangerous breath away from mine. “Because a second ago, your eyes were practically—”
I cut him off quickly. “I was assessing the structural integrity of the fabric,” I lied smoothly, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. I had to crane my neck. He was ridiculously tall.
He laughed, a genuine, booming sound that bounced off the cabin’s walls. “Structural integrity. That’s a new one.”
The towel made another move. He didn’t touch it. Either he trusted it implicitly, or he didn’t care, and based on available evidence, I was going with the latter. “I’m Slade. And if you want to test the structural integrity of this towel, all you gotta do is pull.”
My traitorous hand actually twitched.
Get a grip, Parker.I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and hauled it in front of me like a shield.
“I’ll pass, Slade.” I put as much snark into those syllables as humanly possible. “I prefer my vacations without a side of raging ego. Have a nice day.”
“Careful out there, City Girl,” he called out just as I stepped onto the porch. “Don’t get lost. I’d hate to have to come track you down.”
“I’d rather be trampled by a horse,” I yelled back, slamming the door behind me.
The night air hit me, warm and thick. My face was so hot I didn’t think a thousand air conditioners could cool it back down. As I hurried up the pathway, I tried to get myself under control. I looked back once, and there he was standing in the doorway, arms braced over his head, a dark silhouette of pure temptation.
Then the path turned, and he disappeared from my sight.
I didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed.
I let myself into my cabin—the right one this time—and immediately sank onto the edge of the bed.
I called Paige because she was my best friend and I wasn’t sure how to process everything that had just happened.
She answered on the first ring, probably waiting for my call. “So, is it all I said it would be?”
“I walked into the wrong cabin.”
She waited a moment before speaking. “And?”
“There was a man in it.”
“What kind of man?”
