Page 5 of Liam

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I wait and count to ten after she knocks, hoping I won’t seem too eager. Except I only make it to four before I lose patience with myself and open the door anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” she begins, her eyelashes fluttering as she glances down at my chest. “I, um… I…”

I look down and realize the problem. I’d been so surprised to hear her voice when I called the front desk that I’d completely forgotten what I was doing before the whole towel rack incident.

And now I’ve answered the door with my shirt half-open, no doubt looking like some kind of lecherous pervert.

“Now it’s my turn to apologize, I’m afraid,” I say, chuckling as I half-turn away to button my shirt again. “I was just getting ready to have a soak in that jacuzzi when I broke the towel rack.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you didn’t start with your pants.”

I feel my eyes go wide just as she claps a hand over her mouth. She instantly flushes a deep red and shakes her head like she might be on the verge of apologizing again—or worse, on the verge of tears.

“Come inside,” I say, ushering her in while I try to keep from laughing. Except no, I definitely can’t keep from laughing. It starts as a chuckle, then a quiet snort as I try harder to stifle it. When she turns to look at me, I completely lose it. “Sorry, it’s just that we have to laugh, right? The towel rack. The shirt. Just… all of it. I don’t think I could make this up if I tried.”

And I realize as I’m laughing and trying to explain why that it doesn’t matter and probably isn’t even that funny, but now she’s starting to laugh, too.

“Oh my God,” she giggles, then snickers, then bursts out with a real, sincere laugh that’s coming straight from her belly. “Goodness, we… I don’t even… I need to catch my breath.”

“Here, have a seat.” I place a hand at the small of her back without thinking, just to guide her over to the sitting area. But when she looks up at me and I realize where my hand is, I don’t want to take it away. “We can catch our breath together.”

I take the screwdriver from her just to give my hand something else to do when all I really want is to pull her close and hold her tight against me.

That isn’t going to happen, though. It isn’t even something I should be thinking about right now. Not while she’s here in my room. Not while we’re just a few feet away from my bed. Not while she’sworking.

I need to keep things professional and polite. I need to let her do her job and then say good night. But first I need to talk to her for just a little while longer.

4

RACHEL

I can’t believe I was so stupid. I should have fixed that towel rack two days ago. Imeantto fix it two days ago when I first realized it was coming loose. But with a million other things on my to-do list and very few hands to do them, there were other tasks that seemed more important at the time.

Now I just look like an incompetent bed and breakfast manager in front of the most important guest we’ve ever had. No big deal, right?

At least he didn’t seem upset when he answered the door. But oh, God, the sight of his shirt unbuttoned just enough to see his muscular chest with a dusting of short, dark hair instantly made my mouth go dry.

And as much as I didn’t want him to fix his shirt, I was pretty sure I would have spontaneously combusted if he’d left it open for too much longer.

Goodness, how is he so perfect?

I don’t have time to really contemplate his perfection, though, because he invites me in and makes me laugh and the next thing I know his hand is on the small of my back, his touch sending off fireworks throughout my entire body.

Yes, this is exactly where I want to be. Right here with him. If it means I have to apologize about the towel rack, that’s fine. So be it. Totally worth it if it means he’ll keep touching me like this.

I know it’s totally innocent and completely meaningless, but it sure doesn’t feel that way right now. It feels… right. And good. Gentle and easy, but just firm enough to make me want so much more.

When he takes his hand away after a few seconds and directs me to a chair so I can try to catch my breath from the laughing and all the other sudden, unexpected sensations, it takes all the willpower I possess to keep from begging for more.

“Here, have a seat,” he says, his sexy accent making me melt inside all over again. “We can catch our breath together.”

How am I supposed to catch my breath when he keeps saying things like that?We can catch our breath together? Do they teach British boys how to be charming in school? Is it something in the water over there?

And yes, it probably helps that his accent makes every single thing that comes out of his mouth sound better than it normally would, but there’s definitely more to it than that. He has a natural ease and a charm that doesn’t seem fake or strained—like he might be enjoying his time with me as much as I am with him.

I want to believe that’s true, anyway. Even if it is probably just wishful thinking.

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