“What are you doing?” he asked. That was a damn good question—one she should have asked herself before she’d followed him into the bathroom. But that look on his face—that look she’d mistaken for longing and desire—had drawn her after him. That look was replaced with anger now. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me. I could have hurt you.” He would hurt her. Eventually. She was certain of it because she was beginning to have feelings for her fake fiancé. And he obviously didn’t return those feelings. “Why’d you come in here?” he asked. “Did you need to use the bathroom?” “I—I...I needed...” Him. She’d needed her fiancé. Her face heated with embarrassment over that need, but she couldn’t admit it now, not in the face of his anger. “What do you need?” he asked her. He stood before her gloriously naked, and she couldn’t help but stare, her gaze skimming hungrily over every slick, muscular inch of him.
