Hands On by Debbi Rawlins Page A

night on the floor. “Where are you going?”
    â€œTo the john. Okay? And then we’d better get our butts downstairs to happy hour.”
    She bit back a pithy remark and slid off the other side of the bed. The bathroom door closed as she entered the closet in search of her cosmetics case. By the time she located it, brushed out her hair and applied some tinted moisturizer to her face, Dalton came out of the bathroom. His hair was slightly damp in front, and a bead of water clung to the cleft in his chin. The horrifying impulse to lick it off had her quickly sidestepping him.
    He drew back as if he thought she’d run him down. “Ready I take it?”
    â€œIn a minute. I have to brush my teeth.” Now, why did she tell him what she was going to do? It was none of his business. This was impossible. How could she share a room with this man for a week? He was a stranger. A sexy stranger. It was just too weird.
    â€œOkay, but hurry up.”
    She didn’t say a word. Tempting as it was. She wanted to get the initial meetings over with, as well. The quicker they could get outside for a walk, establish the ground rules, like how he got the floor tonight, and who got the bathroom when.
    Maybe she’d just tell him how it was going to be. Why shouldn’t she call the shots? He needed her toclose this case. She didn’t need him. Like Jen had pointed out, they had all the information they needed to satisfy their client.
    She opened the door, ready to tell him like it was.
    And she would have done exactly that.
    If he weren’t naked.

5
    â€œW HAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ?” Cassie’s eyes were so wide Dalton thought she’d hurt herself. Her gaze roamed down his bare chest, to waist level, and then she did an abrupt about-face. “We’re supposed to go downstairs.”
    â€œI know.” He slid a white cotton oxford off the hanger. “I’m just changing my shirt. What’s the matter with you?”
    â€œThis isn’t going to work.”
    â€œHey.” He shrugged into the shirt but didn’t bother to button it as he quickly stepped around the armoire and crossed the room. “Careful,” he whispered, taking her by the arms and trying to turn her around to face him.
    She wouldn’t budge. “Me? You pull a stunt like this and you tell me to be careful.”
    â€œWhat stunt? Why won’t you turn around?”
    â€œAre you decent?”
    He frowned, and then looked down at his unbuttoned shirt. “You’re kidding, right?”
    â€œHow would you like it if I—never mind. Just tell me if you’ve got your clothes on.”
    â€œYeah, I have clothes on.” He shook his head. She was a total nut.
    Slowly, she turned around, her cautious gaze dropping below his waist. “What were you doing?”
    â€œI told you I was changing my shirt.” He saw the accusation in her eyes and prepared for a preemptive strike.
    â€œBut you—”
    He slid his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Keep your voice down.”
    Her hands landed on his bare chest and her fingers stiffened. “You haven’t buttoned your shirt yet.”
    â€œDo it for me.”
    â€œDo it yourself.”
    â€œYou’re the one who wants the damn thing buttoned.”
    At his abrupt tone, her eyes widened. “I’m the one who should be upset. I come out of the bathroom and you don’t have anything on. What am I supposed to think?”
    At least she kept her voice down. Her gaze roamed his face, and then lingered on his mouth. He wondered if she had any idea how expressive her face was, or that her hand flexed on his chest.
    â€œI still had my pants on. I was only changing my shirt.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The armoire must have blocked your view and you assumed I didn’t have anything on. I assure you that I will only be naked in front of you if you want me to be.” He dropped