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I headed for the bathroom, grabbing a towel to dry off my hair. I was definitely rumpled myself. But it was fine—from this side of the resort I could go right down to the staff exit and be back at my apartment in five minutes.

“Cassandra!”

Blake sounded alarmed.

I rushed back out.

He was stuck in his wet suit jacket, his elbows askew.

I bit back a laugh. “Here,” I said. I went over to him and tugged on the collar of his jacket. With great effort, we managed to extricate his arms. As I was straightening it out, he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, missing them.

His eyes were beginning to droop.

I hesitated. Then, before I knew what I was doing, I’d placed my hands on his and gently moved them away. “Let me do it.” My fingers went to his buttons, undoing one, and then the other. I tried to ignore the heat reigniting inside of me, growing intense as I revealed more and more of his skin.

His face was tilted up at me. “You’re good at buttons.”

I smiled. “I’m sober.”

I peeled his shirt off, trying not to ogle his thick shoulders. His muscular chest was right in front of me, his taut stomach below. A strip of hair disappeared into his navel.

That heat pooled low, and an absurd thought occurred to me: I could easily hike my skirt up and straddle him right here on this bed.

“You’re thinking about taking advantage of me, aren’t you?” Blake said.

I gaped. Was I that obvious? I yanked his shirt down with maybe more force than required.

“Ow,” he said as I twisted his lead-heavy arm, getting it off.

“Sorry. And… there. You can do your own pants.”

Blake stood up abruptly. “Okay.” He unbuckled his belt.

I was too startled to move. He reached for the button and zipper on his suit pants, fumbling to get them open.

Heat rushed through me. I whirled around, mortified.

The sound of his pants falling to the ground made my knees go slightly weak.

He was right there behind me, his whole naked body separated only—I assumed—by his underwear.

Unless he’d already removed those, too.

I strode to the hallway, facing the darkened door.

I heard the thud of him kicking off his shoes, the clink of his belt on the ground as he stepped out of his pants, and finally, the rustle of sheets. The whole time I clenched and unclenched my hands, my heart pounding. I should leave. I needed to leave.

But I didn’t want to leave.

“Okay, it’s safe,” he said.

I turned around. Blake was lying on his back on the bed, one gorgeous, thickly muscled arm bent under his head. The sheet was pulled up to cover his bottom half, but that was it. Above that, his broad, ridged chest and torso were fully exposed.

God help me.

I went over to the opposite bed and sat down. “I’m just staying a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” he said.