It’s obvious the Cooper family is ridiculously blessed when it comes to good looks. Braxton Cooper is good-looking, so I expected his brother to be handsome. Rhett Cooper has surpassed all my expectations. He’s tall. At least 6’ 4, I guess. His body is ripped under the layers of clothes. His blue eyes are dazzling, especially under the spotlight of the big light over the gate. I can still feel his body against mine, still feel the warmth radiates from him. God, he’s breathtaking.

Even though I try to act the professional I am, after the most erotic moment I experienced, it’s hard while my feet are covered in mud.

It’s even harder as his eyes eat me up with the unadulterated hunger in them. I press my thighs together with the sudden throbbing between them. I’ve never felt such a huge arousal in my body while no parties are naked and there’s little to no sexual touching if you don’t count the accidental ass gripping. Shame and lust compete inside me with the memory of his hand where he touched me.

“Who are you?” he finally asks.

I can’t decide if he’s checking me out or judging my worth as his gaze roams over my body. I want to fidget in my place like a schoolgirl who is sent to the headmaster’s office, which is ridiculous.

Straightening my back, lifting my chin up, I force myself to have the confidence I always have. I won't let this gorgeous man intimidate me with his...well, gorgeousness.

“I'm the designer. You must have been informed of my arrival. Mr. Braxton Cooper asked me to have a look at your place to see if I can help with your project.”

“Are you working for him?” he asks. His voice is half doubting half accusing.

“I designed his penthouse in New York City. So yeah, you can say he's a client of mine.”

“So, you're from New York?” he says like he's annoyed with the idea, I feel the need to confirm it.

“Yes.”

He looks me up and down again. This time his gaze stays a second longer on my muddy feet.

“Have you ever worked on a ranch?”

“Like designed one? No, but I designed outdoors such as gardens-" I start, but he interrupts me.

“No. I'm asking have you ever been on a ranch? Or maybe to a camp? Maybe the house you grew up in has a big garden?”

“No,” I murmur. I know where he's going with this. “But I’m good at what I’m doing, you can trust me with your place.”

He snorts but doesn’t make further comment on the topic.

“Your room is ready. Third door in the third floor,” he says, clearly dismissing me from his sight.

With a nod, I grab my mud covered bags from the ground and start walking as I pray I don’t make a fool of myself in front of him more than I already did.

I curse my high heel shoes as I stumble with each step.

What was I fucking thinking? I should’ve at least worn my sneakers, but how could I have known? I’ve never worn anything but high heels and pencil skirts when I work, which is all the time.

Heavy sigh and powerful footsteps behind me make me alert.

“Hand me those bags and hold my arm. It’s not like a marble floor in penthouses, right darlin’? You’ll break your neck,” he says. Even though his voice mocking, the strong huskiness under his tone sends a shiver down my spine.

He easily carries my suitcase, laptop bag, and my purse and places my hand on his forearm. I expect him to let me go the moment my feet hit the concrete floor, but he doesn’t. I look around the house as we climb the stairs. The place is big, and it’s well kept. Old, but in very good condition. The structure seems strong. Until we reach the third floor, I count twelve doors which sounds enough for a nature-based hotel. I need to know more about his idea, the info his brother gave me in the email he sent isn't enough for me to design something.

“This room is prepared for you. If you'd prefer to stay in a motel it's a thirty minute drive,” he says.

“As long as it's okay with you, I'd like to stay here.”

He nods and shrugs. “That’s my room down there. Would that bother you?” he asks, pointing at the first door on this floor.

“You don't snore enough to bring this place down, do you?”

He smirks. “I guess you'll find out soon.”

He opens the second door before saying, “One more thing, the bathroom in this floor is common. I can make them prepare another room.”

Well, that sucks, but he already thinks I'm a Princess who doesn't know anything about ranch life, which is true, so I don't want to give him another reason to prove that thought. “I'll survive,” I say with a shrug.

“Good.”

Just when I'm about to enter my room, he calls out. “Designer?”

I look at him over my shoulder.

“Do you have a name?”

A short laugh escapes from my throat. “Aubrey. Aubrey Watts.”

He nods. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I smile at his kindness despite his judgment.

“Actually, I’ll use the bathroom now.” I point out my mud-covered state.

With a grin, he waves his hand toward the bathroom before disappearing into his room.