Page 5 of Unintentionally Yours

“Hardly. I just don’t make a habit of showering with strange men. Especially ones who barge in without knocking.”

“Knocking, huh? Even in my own house?” He snagged a folded towel from a nearby shelf and held it out, his gaze never leaving hers. “Here. Why don’t you dry off, and then we can continue this conversation with you wearing more than suds and sass.”

Layla snatched the towel, careful not to let their fingers touch, even though he’d probably memorized every ounce of her naked flesh by now. Even though she was tempted to take him up on his blatant invitation. She’d wanted adventure and passion, right? And she instinctively knew this man could provide both in spades.

He turned to leave, pausing with one hand on the doorframe. “Oh, and Layla?”

She glanced up at him, a single dark brow arched in question.

“Don’t even think about running off with the rest of my potato chips. They’re my addiction.” He gave her another hot look from those devasting eyes. “Or one of them.”

With that, Finn sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving a wide-eyed Layla gaping after him. As he strode down the hall towards the living room, Finn debated calling the sheriff but quickly decided against it. Whoever Layla Bryant was, she looked like she needed help from whatever she was running from. Or whatever was chasing her.

And, if Finn Brody had a weakness, it was a damsel in distress.

It looked as though his quiet, solitary getaway to the mountains just got a whole lot more interesting. He’d come here to escape, to clear his head and try to put the jagged pieces of himself back together after his final disastrous mission. Somehow, he had a feeling that the beautiful

Layla was about to blow those plans all to hell. The question was...would he survive the fallout this time?

Layla stared at the bathroom door long after it clicked shut behind Finn, her pulse still galloping like a runaway racehorse. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, feeling the erratic thump of her heart against her palm.

Holy cannoli, that man was potent. One smoldering look from those green eyes, and she was ready to combust on the spot, never mind the fact that she was naked, dripping wet, and apparently trespassing in his home.

Layla giggled; the sound tinged with a note of hysteria. Of all the cabins in all the woods, she just had to stumble into the one belonging to a modern-day mountain man with shoulders wide enough to carry all of her burdens.

The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

Shaking her head, Layla began to dry off. She paused, inhaling the clean, woodsy scent clinging to the soft fabric. It smelled like him. Like pine and earth and something uniquely masculine.

Down girl, she scolded herself, wrapping the towel snugly around her body. The last thing she needed was to develop a schoolgirl crush on the man whose home she’d invaded. She was in enough trouble as it was.

As she’d told Finn, she just needed a little time to regroup. But she wasn’t sorry she’d done it. Her eyes widened. She’d really done it. After months of cold feet and second thoughts, of pasting on a smile and pretending everything was fine, Layla had finally reached her breaking point. And now here she was, naked and shivering in a stranger’s bathroom.

Not exactly a Hallmark moment.

She gave herself a pep talk as she usually did when faced with decisive moments in her life. You got this, Bryant. Just a couple of hours, some dry clothes, and maybe a hot meal if you’re lucky, and then you can figure out your next move. Make a plan.

And if that plan happened to include a certain broad-shouldered mountain man with a chiseled jaw and brawny biceps she wanted to sink her teeth into…

Nope. She couldn’t let her naughty girl out now. Could she?

Layla stepped out of the shower...and promptly cried out as pain lanced through her left foot. She glanced down, wincing at the myriad cuts and scrapes marring her skin from mid-calf to ankle. Apparently, traipsing through the woods in nothing but a designer wedding gown wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had.

“You’re hurt.”

Finn’s voice, low and slightly accusing, cut through the hazy fog of pain clouding Layla’s mind. Her gaze snapped up to find him filling the doorway again, arms crossed over his broad chest as he studied her with an inscrutable expression.

“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” she demanded, hitching the towel higher on her breasts. Honestly, for such a big man, he moved with the silent grace of a jungle cat. It was unnerving.

One raven brow arched towards his hairline. “This is my cabin, sweetheart. My bathroom.” He gestured towards the vanity bench in clear invitation. Or maybe it was an order. “Take a seat.”

Layla hesitated, but what choice did she really have? Her foot throbbed in time with her racing heart, and she didn’t relish trying to hobble away with any modicum of dignity. Gingerly, she limped over to the bench and perched on the edge, tucking the tails of the towel primly beneath her thighs.

Finn crouched before her, reaching beneath the sink to retrieve a large first aid kit. He flipped open the latch and rummaged through the contents before extracting a tube of antiseptic cream and an elastic bandage. His large, blunt fingers were surprisingly gentle as he inspected her various cuts and scrapes, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Layla watched him work, oddly mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath his bronzed skin. This close, she could see crisscrossed lines at the corners of his eyes and even a strand or two of silver hair at his temples. She tucked her hands beneath her thighs, fighting the sudden urge to run her fingers through the short strands.

Awareness prickled along her nerve endings, hot and sharp and completely unexpected. She’d never been this instantly attracted to someone before. It was unsettling. Thrilling.

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