I sat in a king-sized bed adorned with cream satin sheets. Soft tones of blue, brown, and cream cropped up in different parts of the room—throw pillows, vases, artwork—giving it a decidedly male vibe. Where the hell was I? I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. Way to go, Samantha. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d fallen asleep. But that still didn’t answer why I was lying naked in what I presumed to be Damon’s bed. A door in the far right corner suddenly opened and I pulled the sheet up to cover my breasts, securing it tightly under my arms. Damon strolled through the opening with damp hair, a fresh shave, and a smile that rivaled the break of dawn. My stomach flipped over and I swallowed the lump in my throat. No one had a right to be that good-looking. “Good morning, Ms. Rayne,” he said, heading toward a tall dresser. He pulled out a drawer and focused on the contents before selecting a blue and gray tie. “Your clothes are in the bathroom if you’d like to shower.”
