Only Her Undercover Spy - Cami Checketts Page 0,1
wouldn’t hurt her. Lifting his hands made his shoulder muscles ripple. She licked her lips and tried not to stare at the attractive picture he made.
“Put down the weapon and we can both walk away without injury,” he said, giving her a beautiful smirk and a wink that she felt clear to her toes.
This man would not hurt her, and she laughed as much from amusement as from relief. He chuckled along with her, and she didn’t know that she’d ever heard such an inviting laugh. Lowering the toilet brush, she felt she’d better use the hospitality she’d been taught throughout her life and perfected with her online schooling. “Forgive me for intruding. You didn’t answer when I knocked and called out. There was no ‘Do Not Disturb’ magnet on the door.”
He arched his eyebrows in a half-mocking, half-charming look that made her insides churn with an odd mixture of attraction and annoyance. “I left instructions with the front-desk manager that no one enter my room. And I mean no one.”
That was odd, and not just because of how private he was. The front-desk manager—Iris’s favorite cousin and future business partner, Catalina—hadn’t put a note in the file. “I apologize again,” she said. “I’m filling in today and didn’t see that.” She paused and had to ask, “You don’t want housekeeping services your entire stay?” Most guests stayed at least four days, some several weeks. Mystical Lake was a remote location, and once people got here, they wanted to stay awhile. She knew she never wanted to leave.
He shook his head firmly and folded his muscular arms across his chest, distracting her momentarily. It should’ve looked awkward with one arm in the sleeve and his crisp dress shirt trailing toward the ground, but he was too impeccably good-looking to understand what the word awkward meant.
“What are you going to do when your toilet reeks and you’re walking on crumbs from all the room service food you’ve spilled?”
That mocking look was back. “I’m generally a pretty clean person. I think I can avoid the toilet ‘reeking’ and keep my food on the plate where it belongs.”
She should dredge up a little humility, but he was too confident and appealing. Maybe he needed a little humility of his own. Holding the toilet brush aloft, she gave him a challenging glare. “Well, when that toilet reeks and you have to humble yourself and beg me to use my ‘weapon,’ don’t think I won’t give you a hard time about it.”
He tilted his chin to her, his gaze slowly tracing over her face and his lips tilting up as if he liked what he saw. “I’ll look forward to …” His voice deepened to a gravelly tone. “Humbling myself and begging you.”
Iris’s body went hot and cold. She knew she shouldn’t be flirting with a guest. She should back away and escape now, but as he stared at her, he seemed to finally notice that his shirt was half on. He tugged the one sleeve up and slid into the other one. The room swayed as she stared with her mouth hanging open. His muscles were so smooth, so delectable, it was all she could do to keep from drooling.
His gaze on her become smoky and alluring. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. Tugging the shirt together, he slowly started doing up buttons from the bottom, letting her feast her eyes on that bare chest a few moments longer.
Iris finally dredged up some self-control, muttered, “Excuse me,” and backed toward the door.
Again, he moved much quicker than she’d expected, and before she knew it, that warm, spicy, yummy cologne of his was infiltrating her senses and he was in her space, her eyes level with his half-done-up shirt and his chest. He swung the door open wide for her.
“Oh, um, thanks,” she managed, thinking a lifetime of training and six years of fitting in hospitality schoolwork every chance she had was a total waste. She couldn’t form a coherent sentence with a guest because he was too unbelievably handsome. She tugged the cart out into the hallway, wanting to hide underneath it like she had as a child when her and Catalina’s moms had regularly filled in for housekeeping. That had been before the resort had become immensely successful, her mom had gotten too sick with pancreatic cancer to work, and Cat’s mom had turned into an entitled, pampered woman. Iris and Cat had played hide-and-seek in the carts and half-heartedly helped