“That was my hot ass you were taking pictures of,” he said, heading to grab the other towel on the railing. She noticed—to her relief—that he was wearing a pair of Speedos. And that he had an amazing butt and muscled back. Damn it. His ass was hot. “And Camilla would not appreciate her father seeing pictures of us together, and neither would I. He’d think that I was going after his daughter just for a business deal.”
“A business deal?” Audrey echoed, confused. “Who is she?”
“That was Camilla Sellers, daughter and only heir to the Sellers empire. And I am only after her for a business deal,” Reese said in a devilish voice, wrapping the towel around his waist. “But I just don’t want her father to think that.”
“You’re a pig,” Audrey said, peeling her now wet sweater away from her body. It was clinging to her br**sts like a second skin, and she hadn’t missed the appreciative look that the lecher had sent in her direction. “I’m going inside. And you’re buying me a new phone.”
“Anything you say, Ms. Assistant.”
“My name,” she bit out, “is Audrey. Not Ms. Assistant.”
“You’re rather mad,” he said in an amused voice.
“You mauled me and threw my phone into the hot tub. Why wouldn’t I be furious?”
“You were kind of being an ass,” he said lazily, leaning against the hot tub and regarding her.
“I was not,” Audrey said.
“I don’t recall Logan’s assistant being quite so mean. Or having such red hair.” He gave her an up-and-down look, his gaze settling on her br**sts. “Or such a rack.”
“Ugh,” she snarled. God, he was revolting. She threw open the door and stomped back into the lodge, scanning the room for her twin.
Daphne was nowhere to be seen. That was good, at least. That meant she’d avoided Camilla and hadn’t seen her capable, uptight twin getting mauled by a wet jerk.
The sound of tires screeching out front made Audrey run for the window, her heart pounding. Oh, no, no, no. Surely Daphne hadn’t run away yet.
But the car that was peeling out of the gravel driveway was the bright red Lyons convertible, with Camilla’s blonde hair ruffling in the breeze.
“Well,” said a male voice behind her. “Guess you’re stuck with me. There went my ride.”
Chapter Three
Audrey turned and regarded the man standing behind her, determined to keep a lid on her temper. He lounged against the door, towel low on his hips, arms crossed over his chest. He was handsome, in that cocky, knows-all-the-ladies-want-him sort of way. There was a scruffy goatee on his tanned face and he wasn’t classically handsome like the statue of David or a model. He was a bit too blue-collar and rough seeming, but what he lacked in the looks department, he made up for in sheer charisma. Even though she was furious at him, she couldn’t help but weaken every time he gave her that sly little half smile.
And that made her more than a little furious with herself.
So she forced herself to be calm. Cool. Collected. The smile she gave him was professional. “I’m sorry, Mr. Durham—”
“Reese.”
“Mr. Durham,” she emphasized. “But Cade promised to let us have use of this cabin for the next month and you’re not invited.”
“Us?” His thick brows went up, and a delighted look crossed his face as he glanced toward the stairs. “Loverboy hiding up there? Letting you fight all his battles for him?”
“No and it’s none of your business who I’m here with. The important thing is that you leave.”
“My clothes were in that car that just drove off.”
Audrey gritted her teeth. “You’re lying, aren’t you.”
“Wish I was. Did you say Cade was headed this way? I can borrow some stuff from him.” He scratched his bare chest idly. “When he gets here.”
And he continued to lean against the wall as if he had all the time in the world.
This . . . was frustrating. Audrey crossed her arms over her chest and then flushed when his gaze automatically went there. She’d forgotten that her sweater was wet and caused her br**sts to be a little too outlined in the damp material. She clasped her hands in front of her instead, concentrating on the problem. How did she get this man out of here without him noticing that her famous sister was here?
“What if I drive you back to the nearest town and you buy yourself some clothes and call a taxi?” she suggested.
“Nah.” Again, he scratched his chest, drawing her attention there. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but he had a dark tattoo over one rather well-defined pectoral, as well as a sprinkling of dark chest hair that narrowed to a tight vee close to his—
She jerked her head back up, her cheeks burning. That had been dangerously close to checking out his package, and she refused to do that. Refused.
“How about I call you a cab?” she asked desperately.
“No cab’s going to want to pick up a naked man.”
“You’re not naked.”
“I can be.”
Are you just deliberately trying to be infuriating?”
“Maybe.” And that bastard grinned at her. “I have to admit, I’m enjoying myself. Kind of nice having the tables turned and someone else is caught off guard, isn’t it? Consider this payback for your little hot tub ambush.” He strolled past her and sat down on one end of the couch, then planted his large, bare feet on the rustic coffee table. He looked for all the world that he was ready to settle in for the evening.
He also looked like he was in danger of losing his towel.
“You know what? I’m calling you a cab,” Audrey said, her voice high-pitched and a little louder than usual. “I don’t care what you want. This cabin is going to be ours and you weren’t invited.”
“There’s no landline,” Reese told her, not bothering to get up from the couch. “And your phone is in the hot tub.”
“Then I’ll use your phone.”
“It’s in my pants.” He grinned. “Guess where those are.”
“In the car?” she asked weakly, then slumped on the corner of the couch opposite from him. “This is a nightmare.”
“Hey, look at the bright side. You have pants.”
Audrey rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Will you shut up for five minutes? Please! You’re driving me mad!”