I practically fell to the bottom of the tub in a haste to cover myself. I grabbed the clear shower curtain, pulling it tight against my body, while simultaneously trying to contort my limbs in a way to hide everything one would deem private.

“What the fuck?” I yelled at Joel who casually walked in as if he didn’t hear the shower running or have the common sense to know that you don’t barge in on people without knocking. He just walked in unfazed by the image of me bent over at the waist, ass in the air trying to retrieve that damn bar of soap.

His booming laughter only contributed to my compounding anger at his lack of respect for my personal boundaries. Apparently, he lacked common sense where personal space was concerned. Is this what it’s going to be like for the next two weeks? If so, I wasn’t sure both of us would make it out of there alive. It seemed we could benefit from a revisit of those rules.

“It’s not funny,” I said, cutting into his laughter.

“Yeah, it kinda is.”

He continued laughing like it were some gag reel and I was meant to relive my mortification with every fresh wave of laughter that erupted from his lips. Is he laughing at the picture of me curled up in the shower curtain, or is he actually laughing at me? “I’ve already seen everything there is to see, sweet cheeks. I’ve had a trial run of your goods. No need to be modest now.”

“What do you want? Get out!”

“All right, all right. Don’t have a coronary. I thought I forgot something in here.” He glanced around, but didn’t really seem to be looking for anything in particular. It was almost like he’d faked looking, and then quickly said, “Oh, guess it’s not here.”

“Great. Now, get out.”

He flashed me one of his panty-melting smiles and shut the door. I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and my fist unclenched the balled up shower curtain that was now embedded with little indentations of my nails. I picked up the bar of soap and quickly rushed through the motions of washing up, ignoring the feel of my hands as they passed across my quivering flesh.

First order of business when I exited the shower? I locked the door.

I hovered there, just beside the door, body wrapped in a towel, trying to make out a hint of sound from the other side, preparing myself for any more surprises Joel had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, when I realized I was in the clear, I dried off and got ready. I swiped the condensation from the mirror, uncomfortably aware of the girl who stared back at me.

I looked at my face a little closer, somehow feeling taunted by the image that looked back at me. My hair, still limp with water, hung past my shoulders in a mousy brown color I always thought made me look a bit frumpy. I ran my comb through it, thinking about the highlights I’d been contemplating getting. Why had I been putting it off? Now, I was stuck with a gorgeous man in my house looking like Pollyanna from the country farm. I spent a couple more minutes passing over all of the things that made me look so ordinary. There wasn’t anything I could do about my hair, but I could shape up my eyebrows and wax my mustache. It wouldn’t hurt to do a little upkeep. Especially now that I have a little free time on my hands.

In the time it took me to finish getting ready with the additional primping I decided to do, I almost expected Joel to try to attempt round two of barging in on me, but when I left the bathroom, I noticed he was back to sitting on the couch. This time appropriately dressed.

Candlelight flooded the room—bundles of wavering flames glowed in the depths, throwing shadows of Joel’s face across the walls. I couldn’t see those hypnotic emerald orbs, but I felt them. The shadows revealed how he watched me, tracing my faltered steps as I drew nearer. I wondered what he saw. Could he tell I freshened up with him in mind? A blush crept up my neck at the thought of him imagining me naked. He saw everything. And we weren’t both naked or drunk. Was he regretting being stuck here with Sarah Simpleton? I imagined he was used to landing nice, polished, expensive-looking women who didn’t leave the house without a fresh waxing and perfect hair and makeup. It was enough to make the most confident woman double-check her compact.

“At least you’re smart enough to put some clothes on,” I mumbled, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. It still felt too close, but I didn’t want him to think I was purposely avoiding him because of the bathroom situation. I dealt with all kinds of people at the law firm. I could handle a hot man and good sex. No problem.

“I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t. I wasn’t able to see much in there.”

“Yeah, about that. Do we need to go over simple manners while you’re here? I thought we established some ground rules, but I didn’t think I would have to cover the basics.”

“It was just a little nudity. Besides, it was an accident.”

“Nothing about that looked like an accident. You just barged in. Do you even know what you thought you left in there?”

His eyes bounced across the floor as if something would reveal itself—an answer that would offer itself up to my inquiry.

“My watch,” he said, his eyes finally landing on his wrist. I narrowed my eyes at him, and his eyebrows lifted innocently. I focused my attention on the large face and chunky gold band wrapped around his thick wrist. A watch I hadn’t noticed up until then, but was the equivalent of a five-carat diamond on a woman’s finger—it was kind of hard to miss. My eyes didn’t stay on the watch long, instead following the dusting of hair across smooth cream skin, up forearms thick-slabbed and pulsing with every breath he inhaled. Those arms could hold me up nicely. I wondered if I took advantage of those arms while I was with him. Did I notice them? Maybe not like I was noticing now because we obviously had other things on our minds at the time, but now that I saw them, I wanted to lick a trail from fingers to shoulder, and feel his muscles strain against my tongue.

“I’m going to try to get some work done. I’ll be in my office if you need me,” I said with rushed words before escaping the room.

Chapter Five

The walk from the living room to the kitchen felt lighter than it had the past two days. Work always had a way of calming my frenzied mind. Everything in my line of work was based on logic, facts, things that are irrefutable. Truths that couldn’t be denied. Every case was like a puzzle waiting to be put together. So, as I carried my laptop back to the dining room, no thoughts clouded my mind. Nothing aside from a perfectly blank slate to help me pull together the facts of the case I was helping with. There was no storm or hot-as-sin one-night stand sitting in my living room like a walking hard-on. There was just me searching for a truth.

There were a couple of cases I’d been working on, but only one I had any desire to look at. When Henderson & Fitz first took the case, everyone in the office was elated with possibilities of what this could do for our firm. Ordinarily, it would be a simple case of our client suing for damages in a domestic abuse/battery case, but the defendant was the heir of the Trevaunt fortune, and from what I’d heard of the pictures of our client, Trevaunt did quite a number on her face. I tried not to pay too much attention to tabloid gossip, but I read somewhere that he went missing after it all happened. No one had seen him in weeks, and the only contact my firm had had with him had been seldom, and only via phone.

My job as an associate with a prestigious law firm was very fulfilling, but I wanted more. There was something about being in a courtroom and presenting that gave me a rush like nothing else. The adrenaline called to me. I wasn’t usually in the courtroom with Henderson or Fitz, but occasionally I was needed. And when that happened, it was like front-row tickets at a Yankees game. Of course, I kept my composure, not showing how excited I was to be picked to assist in a court case, but really I could fall at their feet thanking them for the honor. Don’t get me wrong, I like getting my hands dirty with the nitty-gritty work, too, but nothing compared to the courtroom.