Your Room or Mine?

her, telling herself it was only to get out of the hallway-not an attempt to catch another sniff of those mouthwatering smells emanating from the cart. Jack reached into his back pocket and extracted his wallet, a move that shifted his shirt open.

Oh. My. Maddie outwardly stilled at the glimpse of all that lovely muscled flesh, but inside… inside her heart rate sped up and her blood whooshed through her veins like bullets shooting from a gun barrel.

Jack tipped the young man, who thanked him then murmured good night to her as he exited the room. The door clicked closed behind him, leaving her alone with Jack. And their matching suitcases. And his fabulous-smelling room service. That had her mouth watering. It wasn’t him and his beautiful eyes or his gorgeous body. Nope. Not at all. Or the intense, smoldering, and unsettling way he was looking at her. As if he were a wolf and she had a pork chop hanging around her neck.

Jack stood rooted to the spot, staring at Maddie, at a complete loss for words-at least appropriate words. Certainly Who the hell are you and what did you do with Mad Dog? didn’t seem the right thing to say. Neither did Wow, you’re hot.

And hot she was. So hot that when he’d opened his door and found her standing there he hadn’t even recognized her at first. And who could blame him for not equating the prim, severely coiffed, modestly suited, bespectacled Mad Dog with this tousled haired, dark-eyed siren who’d clearly just stepped out of the shower and smelled good enough to nibble on?

He’d opened his door, thinking it was room service, and his first thought had been Wow. Whoever you are, you’re much better than a cheeseburger. Then she’d mentioned the suitcase and recognition had whacked him with the impact of a brick to the head. He’d been reeling ever since. How was it possible that just letting down her hair, removing her glasses, and getting her out of those prim suits could make such a difference? She was like a female Clark Kent-get rid of the nerdy spectacles, hair, and clothes and poof! Superwoman was born.

And what a super woman she was. Who would have guessed she had all that silky-looking curly hair? And that her eyes were so round and large? How had he never noticed that they were the color of smooth chocolate? Wrapped up in that fluffy robe, she looked like a present, just waiting to be opened. And since she’d clearly taken a shower and he had all her clothes… his gaze slipped to the sash tied around her waist. That meant she probably wasn’t wearing anything beneath that robe.

Damn. It was hot in here.

Her voice yanked him from his daydream and he looked away from her bathrobe to her face. She’d clearly said something to him but damned if he knew what.

He cleared his throat and said the only thing he could manage around his stupefaction. “Huh?”

“I said ‘Here’s your suitcase, may I please have mine?’ ” She parked his case next to the TV.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Jeez, he even sounded like he’d been clocked upside the head with a brick. He wheeled her suitcase toward her. When she took the handle, their fingers brushed, and if he’d been capable of it, he would have laughed at the sizzle that zoomed up his arm.

“Thanks,” she said. Her gaze flicked toward the room service table. “Big plans tonight, I see. Well, me, too. Enjoy your evening. See you tomorrow.”

Before he could say a word, she opened the door and practically ran across the hall, dragging her lingerie- and condom-filled, one-night-stand-ready suitcase behind her. He applied his eye to the peephole and watched her enter her room.

He turned and headed toward his very belated dinner. Big plans? A cheeseburger and the financial news update? He shrugged and snagged a French fry. Then frowned. She was the one who had big plans. Her and her glossy, curly hair and big eyes and lingerie. She was looking for a one-nighter and he didn’t doubt she’d find someone willing. A sensation that felt suspiciously like jealousy but couldn’t have been pricked him. He didn’t care what her plans were. For all he knew she had a guy in her room right now.

That’s one damn lucky guy, his inner voice informed him.

Good God, clearly he was suffering from hunger-induced insanity. Nothing his cheeseburger wouldn’t cure. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he uncovered his burger and took a huge bite. It was really good, but he found himself eating mechanically, staring at the TV without seeing what was flashing on the screen. All because he couldn’t stop wondering what Ms. I’m Too Sexy for My Bathrobe was doing across the hall.

Annoyed at himself, he clicked off the TV and finished his meal in silence. He’d just polished off the last of his brownie when he heard what sounded like a door opening across the hall. He strode to his own door and applied his eye to the peephole. The sex siren he’d previously referred to as Mad Dog stood in the hallway, slipping her key card into a tiny fire-engine red purse. That perfectly matched the five alarm dress clinging to a figure that needed to come with a warning sign: Dangerous Curves Ahead.

Superwoman indeed.

And one who had “big plans” tonight.

After tucking away the card, she headed in the direction of the elevator.

Where was she going? Most likely to the bar. Where there were most likely lots of firemen. Who would know something hot when they saw it.

Suddenly he didn’t feel the least bit tired. No, in fact, he was suddenly in the mood for a beer. How lucky that the resort had a first-class bar.

Six

Maddie sat on a bar stool and took a sip of her wine and tried not to feel conspicuous. Engaging in a one-night stand with a hot, handsome fireman sounded great in theory, but now that the moment had arrived to actually set her plan in motion, she wasn’t so sure. She could almost hear Emma making chicken noises, but she’d never actually ventured into a bar alone. Evenings at clubs were either a date or an outing with girlfriends.

The Casa di Lago’s bar was crowded with both men and women, but a quick glance made it clear that the women outnumbered the men by about two to one. Clearly, she wasn’t the only female who knew the resort was crawling with firemen this weekend. The air buzzed with laughter, conversation, clinking glasses, and muted jazz.

A more leisurely perusal of the crowd confirmed that there were indeed some very attractive men in the room. All she had to do now was pick out one she liked and hope the feeling was mutual. No problem. She could do this.

“Hi,” said a male voice next to her. “May I buy you a drink?”

She turned. A tall, muscular, good-looking man with light brown hair and an attractive crooked smile regarded her through eyes that expressed unmistakable interest.

“I already have one,” she said, so quickly the words ran together. She grabbed for her wine. “But thanks anyway.” She buried her nose in her wineglass.

“Uh, sure. Have a nice evening.”

He faded away into the crowd, and Maddie blew out a long breath. Okay, that didn’t go particularly well, but hey, she was nervous. Next time she’d do better.

Next time arrived several minutes later in the form of another handsome, muscular man. Jeez. What did they feed these firemen that they were all so attractive? No wonder so many of them posed for calendars.

“Hi,” he said, flashing her a flirtatious smile. “I’m Dave.”

Something akin to panic fluttered in Maddie’s chest. “Hi, Dave. Nice to meet you, but I’m waiting for someone.”

He flashed her another smile. “Oh, well. Take care.” He melted away and Maddie mentally thunked herself on the forehead. What was wrong with her? Both of those men were handsome and personable. Why hadn’t she given either of them a chance?

Because even though you’re lonely and horny, one-night stands are not your style, her inner voice informed her.