Brazen

bruised arch. Her startled gaze met his.

'I have antiseptic and gauze upstairs,' he said in a husky voice. Or at least, he knew Bear did. His friend had broken up many late-night brawls, and Mac had often hung around to help clean the place, and his pal, up afterward.

'Upstairs?' she squeaked. Then she quickly cleared her throat and started over. 'Upstairs where? A room? An apartment? What?' Her curiosity seemed to overtake her initial doubts and she peppered him with questions, growing more confident with each.

'An apartment,' he said, amused.

'With a shower?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Shower and tub, why?'

'Curiosity. And you live there?' she asked, now wide-eyed.

'Yeah.' For the week, or as long as it took Bear to win his lady back. For reasons he didn't want to inspect too closely, Mac decided against telling her that he was only helping out. It had been a long time since he'd been known and liked as plain Mac, separate and apart from Ryan Mackenzie, owner of The Resort.

He'd be the first to admit his own mistakes contributed to the problem. Wealth had come to the Mackenzies when Mac had been too brash and arrogant to understand how people, namely women, would react. A single, rich resort owner was a prime catch, and he'd stupidly made himself a target for gold diggers and fortune hunters alike.

Taking care of his mother and younger sister had forced him to realize his mistakes and grow up fast. The females in his family had relied on him for financial security and emotional backing. He couldn't afford to let them down, and after his initial lapse in judgment, he hadn't. Mac had trained himself to be wary, which was why he remained silent now.

This woman's vulnerability appealed to him, and he wanted a fresh read, a chance to be liked as an ordinary guy with no preconceived notions getting in the way.

He glanced over. She sat fiddling with the top layer of her skirt. 'Do you live alone?' she asked, this time without meeting his gaze.

'Completely.'

'Oh. Oh. Good.' A blush made its way through the dirt and makeup that stained her cheeks.

From embarrassed to brazen and back again, he thought. 'Good?'

'For my feet.' She forced herself to stand on her own. 'And my dignity. Do you think I could wash up?' she asked.

He nodded. 'While you're at it, I'll send a tow for the car and I'll have one of the boys pick up your suitcases.'

'The boys?'

'They surrounded you when you first came in. Now they're eyeballing you from across the room.'

She grinned. 'Oh, those boys. They drive?'

'Not legally.'

Her laughter filled the room and a few other places inside him he'd thought were frozen for good. 'About those suitcases,' she said. 'How do you know I have any?'

'Sweetheart…' His gaze trailed over her shapely body and white skin. 'Everything about you screams tourist.'

He reached out to help her walk, but she shook her head.

'I can do this.'

'Okay, but I'm right behind you if you need any help. Up those stairs.' He pointed to the darkened hallway in the corner, and she headed off in that direction, unsteady on her feet. 'One of you boys watch the bar,' he called to the group of regulars that Bear trusted as much as he did his best friend.

Mac stared at her retreating back, watched as she climbed the stairs, leaving him on the step below. Her silken skirt ended midthigh, which wasn't a problem when they were on the same level. But he hadn't anticipated the view once she hit the middle of the stairs. Nor had he realized how sexy and feminine her undergarments would be. As the short skirt flounced behind her, a hint of lace teased and tormented his already-active libido. Heat rolled over him in a huge wave. He broke into a sweat.

And to think, he'd almost refused to help Bear because he had a number of huge conventions arriving throughout the week. He was glad he'd delegated to his staff, entrusting the numerous doctors, lawyers and financiers to his employees. He wouldn't have missed this for anything.

As he followed his sexy, straggly visitor upstairs, he realized he'd seen more of her than he'd seen of any other woman in a long while. And he didn't even know her name.

* * *

She'd found her man. Too bad she had no idea what to do with him. Samantha closed the bathroom door behind her and stripped off her skirt, shaking the residual dust into the tub. Who'd have guessed the first man she laid eyes on, the first man under eighty, she amended, would be the one?

Her questions hadn't exactly been subtle, but with those dark, deep-set eyes staring into hers, and that mustache lifting over a sensual grin, she'd barely been able to pull herself together enough to think clearly.

She pictured him waiting on the other side of the door, and her pulse pounded in a combination of anticipation and apprehension. There was no question the dark-haired, gorgeous stranger suited her perfectly. A bartender in an off-the-beaten-path tavern, he was a man she could thoroughly enjoy and then never see again. As long as she could work up the nerve.

Samantha located the towels he said would be on a shelf over the toilet, and hung one over a hook on the wall. She glanced around the room. Small but with all the proper amenities and stark in a masculine sort of way. No frills. Just a toothbrush and a bottle of aftershave lay on top of the vanity. She picked up the black bottle and brought the nozzle near her nose. One illicit sniff of musk and she was no longer alone. His scent surrounded her. He surrounded her.

She'd never been with a man wearing a mustache and wondered what kind of stimulation it would add to an intense sexual experience? She shut her eyes. Her senses soared and her imagination took over. Soft lips, warm breath and an erotic rush of sensation playing over her already-sensitized skin. Firm yet gentle lips nibbling their way up her legs, the rasp of whiskers along her thigh. She cupped her breasts and felt as if his hands had settled over the tight fabric, as if his fingers plucked and pulled, bringing her nipples to life.

She opened her eyes to find herself standing alone in the unfamiliar bathroom, thoroughly aroused and completely appalled. She had never done anything like this before, had never even felt anything like this before. Without meeting her gaze in the mirror, she removed her hands from her chest and focused her attention on turning on the shower instead.

Her hands trembled, hindering the process. How could she want one man so badly? A man she barely knew. She didn't know the answer to that question any more than she knew how she'd find the nerve to go through with this seduction. Coming up with her plan from the safety of her apartment had been easy. Contemplating her bleak future had carried her resolve through the long plane ride out here. But now, faced with a sexy, masculine stranger in the flesh…

Samantha trembled. All she had left was this week. She hadn't planned her life this way, nor would this be the choice she'd make if her father's future weren't at stake. But it was. And if her life came down to this one week, she'd better make the most of it. Her chance waited just outside the door.

If she wanted to find a way into his arms, she'd best start by cleaning herself up. But first, she needed to get a drink to soothe her parched throat, she thought, reaching for a nearby glass and filling it with water. That decided, she felt more confident. In a few hours, if she was lucky, she'd discover… how to scare the poor man half to death. Samantha caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror and gasped, dropping the glass into the sink. With her dirt- streaked cheeks, tearstains and tangled mass of hair, how could she have considered seducing him? Whatever made her think he'd be interested?

Without warning, the door burst open and she had company. 'What the hell was that?'

Her grab for the towel came too late because her fantasy lover stood in the door frame staring at her