Page 3 of Unintentionally Yours

She followed the hallway to the entrance of a bathroom at the very end. Double vanity, glass-enclosed shower, a claw-foot tub big enough to swim laps in... Clearly, the mystery owner had spared no expense.

Even though the tub looked like heaven, Layla chose the shower. She twisted the taps, sighing in relief as a cascade of steaming water burst from the rainfall showerhead.

Then she stepped under the spray with a blissful groan. The hot water sluiced over her skin, washing away the day’s grime—both literal and figurative. She rolled her neck, easing the tension from her shoulders as she savored the decadent heat. If this was her reward for jilting Randy at the altar, she’d make the same choice a hundred times over.

***

Finn entered the cabin barely ahead of the storm. Immediately, he secured his equipment and put up his outerwear. The smell of the chili he’d put on this morning permeated the air. He wasn’t much of a cook but could make a few dishes well.

The air was chilly inside the cabin. Going into the living area, he started the fire he’d laid out this morning. Immediately, the kindling came to life. He stayed there for a few moments until he could feed in larger pieces of wood, making sure the fire was well and truly burning.

Straightening, he walked into the kitchen to check on his supper. Immediately, his senses went on high alert. He back tracked his steps, wondering if he had missed something. From the corner of his eye, he saw white. A large lump of white. He walked over, warily kicking the fabric with the toe of his boot. The once white material was mixed with a great deal of mud. He bent down, picking it up cautiously.

“What the fucking hell?” In his hand was a wedding dress.

Finn’s dark green gaze swept the interior of his cabin. Everything seemed utterly ordinary at first glance. Then, his gaze landed on yet another white object. He looked down the hallway and, to his shock, saw a trail of feminine undergarments strown along the wooden floor.

He walked forward with silent steps. First came a forlorn pile of white stockings. A shredded pair of stockings. He frowned, seeing flecks of blood. He added them to the wedding dress draped over his arm. Still more daring intimates followed, leading him toward the bathroom door. To the thoroughly unraveled white corset lying limp and useless on the floor. His body hardened as he imagined the ample breasts it had struggled to contain.

Finn’s pulse thrummed in his temples as he stopped to retrieve the next to last final discard – a delicate scrap of lace and silk. Panties. He lifted them to his nose, taking in the delicate scent of his intruder. More blood rushed to his groin.

The bathroom door stood halfway open, steam filling the area with a white haze. At his feet was the last discarded item. A cast-off wedding veil. His grip convulsed around the gauzy material.

He had a runaway bride in his shower.

He couldn’t have been more surprised if a bear had entered his cabin and made itself at home.

His mind immediately thought of the fairytale his mother had read to his sister at night. Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

He gave a deep chuckle. This Goldilocks had taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in the big, bad wolf’s territory.

He didn’t believe in fairytales, but if he had his way, Goldilocks would definitely end up in his bed.

CHAPTER TWO

. . .

The soft sound of feminine humming reverberated beneath the running cascade of the shower’s spray. Finn’s interloper’s shape materialized. High, taut breasts with dusty semi-circles of arousal dotting their peaked tips. A lush hourglass figure with rolling waves of generously curved breasts and hips. A riot of damp curls nestled in the apex of her soft thighs.

Damn, she was a spectacular specimen of womanhood.

His body eagerly agreed, his erection pressing against the placket of his jeans with a bite of pain.

His appraisal continued as she arched beneath the warm spray, thrusting her breasts forward, her hips out. It took every ounce of his control not to strip and join her. His fingers tightened on the ball of silk he had in his hand.

“Looks like Goldilocks wandered into Papa Bear’s house.”

Layla yelped, whirling around so fast she nearly lost her footing on the slick tile as a low and distinctly masculine voice drawled from the bathroom doorway. The raspy tone washed over her, sending a cascade of tingles down her body – straight to her core. She clutched at the shower door as she took in the man standing just inside the bathroom, her white satin panties dangling from his finger.

He was huge. That was her first impression. Well over six feet, with shoulders broad enough to span the width of the doorframe. His dark hair was cut short, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes—a startling shade of green—glittered with barely leashed hunger.

But it was the scar that drew Layla’s gaze. A jagged silver line ran from his temple down to his jaw, like a bolt of lightning etched into his skin. It should have marred his features and rendered him less attractive, but somehow it only added to his dangerous allure.

“I, um...” Layla swallowed hard, suddenly, painfully aware of her nudity. She crossed one arm over her chest, the other she placed at the top of her thighs, trying in vain to shield herself from his penetrating stare. “I can explain?”

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a sardonic half-smile. “This ought to be good.”

Finn Brody had seen a lot of things in his thirty-odd years on God’s green earth. Warzones. Natural disasters. The inside of more than one enemy prison cell. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight currently gracing his bathroom.

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