“Would you be still?”

The voice was husky and soft, straight out of a porn flick, and I rolled toward it, seeking out the warmth and scent of a woman. Sexy and sweet, it went straight to my dick, which was already doing its morning salute.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

I was about ready to reach for her when a high-pitched yelp had me jerking up in bed. “What’s–?”

The wrong got caught in my throat at the sight of her. I don’t think she even heard me anyway. She was too busy wrapping herself in a sheet and gaping at me. After a second, she snapped her jaw shut. I clenched mine so it wouldn’t fall open.

“Who the hell are you?” She stared at me, her big, dark blue eyes wide and startled.

“Ah, the name’s Kaleb.”

“You…you’re Australian. Sydney?”

“Good ear.” Talk. Act human. Don’t stare at her damn tits. “Most Yanks wouldn’t recognize the difference between somebody from Sydney versus somebody from Perth. Spent much time there?”

“Um, no. My…family travels a lot. Or they used to.”

I wasn’t having much luck not staring at those perfect, perky breasts, so I climbed out of bed and looked around. My head was still cloudy, and it hurt like hell. What happened last night? What time was it?

A thousand sticky thoughts pushed through my head, but I couldn’t untangle them.

I could do one thing – use the damn bathroom.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

I didn't think she heard. She was swearing about something too, but I didn't think it had anything to do with the rubber that was in a rather precarious position on my semi-erect penis.

Grabbing it, I looked up and caught sight of her staring at me.

“A dream.” She closed her eyes as she whispered it. “This is all a crazy dream.”

Not likely. If it was a dream, I would have been balls-deep inside her, not standing there with a bloody headache and a crumpled up condom in my fist.

I stalked into the bathroom, desperate to get away from the woman for a minute. I had to think.

I just needed a minute.

Once I was in the bathroom, I shut the door and leaned back. “What the fuck happened?” I muttered.

Spying a waste bin, I tossed the rubber into it and tended to business.

The nagging sense that I’d forgotten something – something important – tugged at my brain as I moved to the sink to wash up, but my mind stayed annoyingly blank, and I finally had to admit that it wouldn’t do any good to just stand in this bathroom while that raven-haired beauty stayed out there, probably getting more and more frustrated.

As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked hung over and pretty damn shitty. That wouldn’t go over well with the new boss.

New boss.

“Fuck.”

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before leaving the room. Clock! Where was a damn clock? The woman, along with another, came through the adjoining suite’s door at the same time.

I still didn’t see a clock. “What time is it?” I said.

“We…um…” The girl from the bed looked at her friend, a shorter, cute thing with curls, curves and a wide smile. “We need to talk.”

“I can’t,” I barked. “I’m going to miss my bus if I haven’t already. What time is it?”

I couldn’t lose this job. There was too much depending on it.

Spying my clothes in a tangle on the floor, I grabbed them and almost took them into the bathroom, but for right now, modesty be damned. Without another thought, I dropped the towel and grabbed my jeans, jabbing one foot then the other into the legs as the women gaped at me. Yeah, commando, ladies.

“Look, you need to slow it down,” she said, giving her friend a desperate look.

“I can’t, sweetheart.” I grabbed my shirt, and something thudded onto the floor. My phone. When I grabbed it, the screen lit up, showing the time.

“Dammit! I’ll barely make it.”

“Wait,” she cried out, cutting in front of me when I would have sat down to put my shoes on.

She looked as desperate as I felt. Maybe she had a job riding on the next few minutes too.

I had doubts about that though. The room we were in was the kind I’d expect to see given to a princess – or a queen. That was what she made me think of – royalty, even wearing that robe and a worried expression. It was in the way she carried herself, so haughty and above it all.

And I didn’t have time to think about how proper she might be. “Anyway, I hate to dash, but I have to go.” I cut around her and sat down, shoving my feet into my shoes. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on as I stood up.

She was right there, not two inches away when my head cleared the material.

“You need to be quiet and listen.” She poked me in the chest with her index finger.

A gaudy, fake ring glinted up at me.

“Nice taste in jewelry, love.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” she said, giving me a sarcastic smile. She held her hand up and waved it back and forth in front of my face. “It’s a damn wedding ring.”

“Wedding…” I blinked. “Fuck me, are you married?”

If she was, she needed a better man. One who’d put a real ring on her finger and not that horrible piece of junk.

She blinked at me, shaking her head. “You’re beautiful, but maybe you’re not too bright,” she said slowly.

I stiffened instinctively at the insult before reminding myself it didn’t matter what some prima donna American babydoll thought of me. I had enough to deal with anyway.

“Aw, my feelings are hurt,” I said, forcing out a mock sigh. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a new job I’m starting, and if I’m late, I’m screwed. You can…look, I’m sorry. I was drunk, and I didn’t know you were married. Doubt it will make much difference, but tell your husband I’m sorry.”

“Fine,” she said to my back. “The man I slept with last night wants me to tell you he’s sorry.”

I froze. One hand on the door knob, I stared at the pale, gleaming oak and tried to make sense of those words. The man I slept with…

Slowly, I turned around and stared at her. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

She had crossed her arms over her chest as stood there, glaring at me, her chin in the air. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

No. She looked like she was torn between crying and hitting something. I could sympathize with the feeling.

“You…” I looked back at the ring, then at her. “Are you telling me…?”

Her lip curled into a snarl. “We got hitched last night, sweetheart.”

“That’s not possible,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even know your name.”

“That’s what I said. But my friend assures me the wedding did happen. She recorded it. We’ve got a license…somewhere. As to our names…” She came toward me, her right hand outstretched.

Good, if I had to look at the awful plastic trinket another moment…

Slowly, I took her hand, staring into those gorgeous eyes.

“I’m Piety,” she murmured.

“Kaleb.” Then I laughed, feeling like the entire world had flipped upside down. “Look, I’m sorry, but I…I still have to go. If I lose this job, I’m screwed.”