Page 10 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

Scarlett. Focus.

“What are you doing in here?” I demand.

“At the moment? Trying very hard not to look at you.”

“You weren’t trying very hard thirty seconds ago.”

“No,” he says, and I swear I hear amusement in his voice. “I wasn’t.”

The asshole is amused.

I glance around for something to cover myself with (not the tiny towel) and spot the white satin robe hanging beside the vanity. Naturally it is approximately twelve miles away. “Don’t move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Still trying to cover three separate areas with two hands, I shuffle sideways across the slick marble until I can snatch the robe from the hook. I shove my arms into it and yank the belt around my waist so tightly I may never take a full breath again.

“Okay,” I say.

He starts to turn.

“I did not say you could turn around.”

He stops halfway. “You said okay.”

“Okay means I am no longer completely naked. It does not mean I have forgiven you for breaking into my hotel room.”

“I didn’t break in.”

“You’re shirtless.”

There is a pause. “That doesn’t make it breaking and entering.”

“It makes it considerably more suspicious.”

His shoulders move, and I realize he’s laughing. Not loudly. Just enough to irritate me.

“Fine. You can turn around now.”

He does, and somehow having the robe on makes looking at him worse, because now I’m no longer operating on pure naked panic and have enough brain function left to notice things.

Like his chest.

Which I absolutely did not stare at when I first saw him.

Except I did.

Now I can get a better look at him. A sharp jaw and the kind of face that belongs in an expensive watch ad where nobody actually looks at the watch. He’s tall too. Really tall. The kind of tall that makes me feel smaller than I am, which is not something that happens often.

And then there are his eyes.

They move over me again. Not the way they did when I was naked, exactly, but enough that I instinctively pull the robe tighter around myself.

“This is my suite,” he says casually.

I blink at him. “Um, no it’s not. They gave it to me. I have a key and everything.”

Without saying anything, he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a key card, holding it between two fingers.