What The Millionaire Wants...: What the Millionaire Wants... / Spencer's Forbidden Passion. Brenda Jackson

      At the sharp tone, Laura jerked her gaze from his bare chest to his face and remembered that she was the one with reason to be angry—not him. But before she could tell him so, he was moving toward her.

      “Let me guess. Your trip didn’t turn out quite the way you’d planned and your friend didn’t come through with the money like you thought he would.”

      “What are you talking about?” she replied, confused.

      But he didn’t seem to hear her. “Isn’t that why you’re here, Laura? Because you know you can’t beat me, so you’ve come to pay off on our bet?”

      “In your dreams.”

      “Actually, I’ve had quite a few dreams about having you in my bed, Laura. Especially after that night in the park. What about you? You have any dreams about what it’ll be like between us?”

      “Nightmares is more like it,” she lied, vowing he’d never know that she had wondered what it would be like to make love with him. Even now she wasn’t immune to him and was having a devil of a time ignoring the way the sprinkling of dark hair made a vee down his chest to his sexy abs before it disappeared beneath the towel hitched around his hips. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Laura yanked her gaze back to his face. His mouth looked hard. His expression closed. But his eyes, his eyes were dark and hungry as they watched her watch him.

      “If you’re not here for sex, then why did you break into my room?”

      “I didn’t break in. I used the pass key,” she informed him, holding up the card that she still held in her hand.

      “Which is a violation of a guest’s privacy and illegal.”

      “It’s not illegal if you enter with cause,” she defended, knowing that was a stretch.

      He moved toward her, causing the towel to shift precariously. “And just what would that cause be, Laura?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

      “This,” she said, shoving the attorney’s letter at him.

      He barely gave the letter a glance. “How does notification that I’ll be starting the due diligence on the hotel qualify as cause for illegal entry to my room?”

      “Because I came to tell you that there isn’t going to be any due diligence because there isn’t going to be a foreclosure.”

      “Why? Did the friend you spent the past couple of days with lend you the money to stop me?”

      “No. At least not yet.” The truth was Papa Vincenzo hadn’t given her an answer yet on lending her a portion of the money because he and his wife needed to meet with their accountants first. But even if they did give her a loan, it would only be for a fraction of the money she needed.

      From the scowl on his face, her answer hadn’t pleased him. “Pardon me,” he said and she stepped to the side while he stretched out his left arm to the towel rack behind her. But instead of taking the towel and moving away, he continued to hold on to it, effectively caging her between him and the counter.

      There was that look in his eyes again, that mingling of anger and desire, she noted. Laura’s heart pounded as he leaned closer. Suddenly she was aware of how tall he was, just how wide those shoulders were. He smelled like soap and outdoors, she thought. Lifting her gaze, she stared at his face and noticed for the first time that his eyes were a blue so deep they were almost black. His hair was still damp and mussed from his shower, and she had this crazy urge to brush it away from his forehead. She noted the stubble along his chin that he hadn’t had a chance to shave. She looked at his mouth, recalled how those lips had felt on hers that night in the park and all she could think was she wanted to kiss him again.