Brazen

hear.

The refrain sounded throughout the bedroom and she couldn't suppress a grin. So he liked music when he showered, she mused. She now knew one more thing about Mac. The thought pleased her. So did the fact that they shared the same taste in music. Her hips swayed to the country-and-western beat as she pulled her shirt over her head and shook her hair out behind her.

The jarring sound of a door opening startled her from the easy rhythm of the music. Unthinking, she whirled toward the sound, only to find herself facing Mac, bare-chested with a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing more.

'You've got rhythm,' he said with a grin.

She felt burning heat rise to her cheeks. Water dripped over his bronzed skin. Her fingertips itched to follow the same path. 'The shower's still running,' she said inanely.

'Forgot my razor. It's new.' He stepped toward the wooden dresser at the same time she made a dive for her clothes. The man was destined to see her at her worst, she thought, struggling to pull the soft cotton over her exposed breasts.

Clothed, but nowhere near composed, she turned back toward him. He studied her with an inscrutable expression, but there was one thing she couldn't mistake-the burning desire in his gaze.

She swallowed hard, then forced a smile. 'Have everything you need?' she asked, careful to keep her gaze at eye level. Away from the towel that rode low on his hips, revealing a tan line and a swell of passion she couldn't mistake.

'Not nearly,' he muttered.

She licked her lips, not knowing how to answer that.

'As long as you're up, I thought I'd take you out, get you a decent breakfast. There's nothing good in the refrigerator downstairs,' he said.

She blinked, stunned by the absurd intimacy of the situation. She and Mac were sharing a morning routine and comfortable conversation while they were both barely dressed. They were strangers, for heaven's sake.

Her mind and her heart shouted in denial. They might have met only yesterday, but she and Mac were far from strangers. She felt too comfortable in his presence, too safe in his arms. The realization shook her composure.

She didn't know if she could get food into her nervous stomach, but a trip away from the bar and these close quarters seemed like an excellent idea.

* * *

She wasn't wearing a bra. Not unless she put one on when he'd gone downstairs to give her a minute or two of privacy. Mac gripped the steering wheel, his fists clenched as hard and as tight as his body. This morning's shock still hadn't worn off. He'd stepped out to find Samantha half-naked, her body bracketed by sunlight, her dark hair falling against the white skin of her back. And then when she'd turned around… all his good intentions had nearly been shot to hell right then and there.

When his choices had come down to tossing her onto the bed or tossing her onto the bed, he knew he was in trouble. Breakfast in a restaurant, sitting across from each other in a decent-size booth, had seemed like a good way to take the edge off the escalating sexual tension between them. He'd been wrong.

She'd sat across from him wearing the dress she'd grabbed for earlier, and all he could think of was her full breasts as they'd looked before she'd managed to run for cover. Even now, as he drove through the countryside, he couldn't think of anything else. She'd asked him to detour and show her the sights on their way back to the bar. That, too, had seemed like a good idea at the time. But considering his current train of thought, he wasn't sure Arizona 's rock formations would take his mind off Samantha.

He needed to give her space. He wanted all the time her week with him would allow, but there was no way he could continue to keep his hands to himself if she tempted him at every turn. Even her graceful hand movements aroused him.

'Mac, stop!'

He slammed on the brakes, nearly sending them into a skid. He didn't know if he was more on edge from inhaling her scent in the confines of the small car, or from thinking about her incredible body and what he'd like to do with it. The car screeched to a halt and he shoved the gear shift to Park. Luckily, they'd hopped onto a back road that was rarely used.

He darted a worried glance at Samantha.

'You stopped. I didn't think you'd take me literally.'

'When someone screams in a car, I figure they're either going to be sick or they have to…' He shook his head. 'Never mind. What's the emergency?'

Looking sheepish, she asked, 'What's the little village over there?' She pointed to the scenic cluster of shops and stores in the distance. A panoramic picture of arches and rooftops painted in a variety of pinks, greens and light browns rose against the blue sky.

'That's a small place called Cave Cove. A tourist trap with Indian dolls, T-shirts, turquoise jewelry and other southwestern stuff you easterners like to bring home.' Despite the commercialism, the place brought money into the town's economy and provided jobs for the locals. Mac wasn't a shopper himself, but his sister and mother always picked up unique pieces in the small stores during each of their monthly visits.

He shifted gears, intending to continue toward their destination, when her warm hand on his arm stopped him.

'Could we go there first?'

'If you want a mall, there's an upscale place back in Scottsdale.' Which he hated, but for her, he'd force himself to endure it.

'A large indoor mall? Air-conditioned so I can freeze?' She rubbed her arms at the thought. 'Expensive shops and obnoxious sales help? No, thanks. I get my fill of that back home.'

He'd just bet she did. From what he'd seen of her clothing so far, everything had designer tags or labels, similar to the type of things the shops stocked at The Resort. No doubt she frequented similar upscale places in whatever state she did her shopping.

He glanced over. She'd crinkled up her nose in distaste. Samantha dressed well and looked gorgeous, but she obviously didn't enjoy the process, nor did she make it her life's work.

'You sure you want to stop there?' he asked.

'I'd really like to take a look around. Please?' She peeked up at him through wide eyes and batted those lashes in a move she still hadn't quite perfected.

He laughed hard. 'Okay, we'll hit the stores and save the sights for later.'

'Do you think they have those little dolls? Because I promised myself I'd pick one up while I'm here.'

'I know for a fact they do.' Thanks to his sister's collection. If he ever brought Samantha with him to Sedona, his mother and sister would take to her immediately.

Whoa. Mac stopped himself. It was one thing to think about a lifetime commitment in the abstract, but it was a whole different story for him to think of Samantha being accepted by his female family members. Although she would be. He knew it as certainly as he knew Samantha would accept them.

He glanced over. She'd perched her sunglasses on top of her head in an unconscious move that was as honest as it was erotic. Even her everyday movements tantalized him.

She rested her forehead against the car window and gazed longingly toward the quaint town. 'It's incredibly beautiful here,' she said quietly.

'It is, isn't it?' These surroundings were as much a part of him as his blood, but he never took them for granted. He hadn't grown up wealthy. When money came later on, a man tended to appreciate all he had. Mac did. He glanced at Samantha once more. And when he found what he wanted, he didn't let go.

'Peaceful,' Sam said. 'No skyscrapers, no smog, no bumper-to-bumper traffic or blaring car horns.'

He hummed the theme song to Jeopardy before answering, 'What is… New York City?'

She laughed. 'You could have just asked where I'm from.'

'You live there?'

'Work there. I commute from New Jersey, forty minutes a day.'