In an instant, Whitney’s gaze trailed down the chiseled collarbone of the man before her, her eyes widening with a mix of shock and a hint of desire she could not quite conceal.

He seemed to relax, noticing her stare.

Damn it.

Not only did this guy have a face to die for, but his physique was the epitome of rugged charm. Broad shoulders tapered down to a lean waist, each muscle in his abdomen as defined as if it were etched in stone. And those legs–long, firm, and peeking out from the bottom of his towel–were downright sinful.

Wait a minute, was this guy her arch–nemesis? Looking like this?

Whitney could not believe it. A tear of appreciation escaped her lips before she could stop it.

“Got an eyeful yet?” A cool, teasing voice floated down from above her.

with the view that you can’t tear yourself away?” The man’s playful yet piercing gaze drifted to

not like she meant to gawk at that particular

trying

voice. “you’re

it, why was she holding onto one end

it back to him, but as she turned, her foot caught on the rug, and she stumbled, causing

Sorry!” She exclaimed,

frowned, reaching out to

“Thud.”

opened her eyes to find herself sprawled on top of

her utter mortification, her hand was still clutching the towel, now draped across her back and covering

meant he

how

warned her

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