Holding back a whimper of fear, Shay kept her eyes squeezed closed against the bright light. Who was standing in the doorway? Had Will found her? But it didn’t sound like Will’s voice. Holding the sheet tight against her chest with both fists, she blinked until her eyes had adjusted to the light. When she was able to look in the man’s direction, she braced herself to see a grizzled old man with missing teeth and a gnarly beard. Instead, she saw a man who was quite the opposite.

Tall and broad, he looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe six years older than Shay. He had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, and his tight t-shirt emphasized his ripped arms and chest. Tattoos snaked up one arm, and when she lifted her gaze to his face, she nearly caught her breath. He was the hottest man she had ever seen. Short dark hair, perfectly shaped mouth, and a strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble.

“I asked you a question,” he said, his gaze lasered in on her, his tone furious.

“I…I’m Shay.” It came out almost like a question. Memories of Will losing his temper and punching her crashed over her, making her tremble with fear.

“And what the hell are you doing in my cabin? In my bed, Shay?” Angry lines creased his forehead.

Terrified, and not sure how to explain what had happened in one sentence, she didn’t reply.

“No words, huh?” He took a step in her direction, glaring at her with cold, hard eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to get up and get out.”

The sheet was still clutched in her hands, and as he made his demand, panic swept over her.

Was he going to hit her? Maybe she should leave before he had the chance. But where would she go? Out in the dark forest all alone? In the middle of the night?

He took another step towards the bed and her panic went through the roof.

What’s he gonna do? What’s he gonna do?

Pure terror engulfed her and she burst into tears.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said as he shook his head from side to side. “No tears, Shay.” His nostrils flared. “That’s not gonna work.”

Clearly, he was not the kind and friendly type. Not a man who would take pity on her and her stupid situation.

Paralyzed with fear, all she could do was watch as he strode over to her and ripped the covers from her hands.

“Is that my shirt?” Lines of disbelief covered his forehead.

Much to her mortification, her sobbing increased.

“Well, crap.” Releasing a heavy sigh—kind of like he knew the way he was acting wasn’t helping things—he pulled the covers back over her, flipped off the overhead light, and left the room.

Stunned by this turn of events, she cowered under the covers, terrified by what could happen next. Was the man like Will, ready to punch her at the slightest provocation? Would he come back at any moment and physically rip her from the bed and throw her out into the pitch-black forest? Or would he leave her alone?

Staring at the ceiling, her body pumped full of adrenaline, she knew she would lie awake the entire night on high alert for any warning that she was in danger. She’d done that many times before when Will had been in one of his moods. After what seemed like an hour—she been too afraid to take her phone out of her purse to turn it on and check the time—when all remained quiet, exhaustion eventually overwhelmed her and she finally drifted off.

She woke to rays of the sun slanting in through the open window. From where she was stretched out, the morning looked beautiful. Which meant she could start truckin’ on down the road again. Or maybe the man from the night before could drive her to the nearest town.

Her eyes widened.

Where was the man? Who was he?

Then she rolled to her side so she was facing the door.

Wait. Was there a man? Or had she imagined that someone had come in there during the night?

No longer sure if she’d dreamed him or if he was real, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She crept to the window and peered out, but it overlooked the area behind the house. Tiptoeing across the hall towards the other room, first she made sure there was no one there, then she looked out the window, which overlooked the road she’d walked in on.

There was a truck parked out front. The man was real.

Drawing on her memory, when she pictured the man—who she clearly remembered as being super hot, although rather cranky—her pulse began to race with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Knowing there was no putting off the inevitable, she stopped by the bathroom to freshen up, then with her heart pounding, she began the descent to the first floor.

Only a few steps down and she was able to see into the living room. And that’s where she saw him. Stretched out on the couch, eyes closed, all he had on were his jeans. His bare chest was clearly visible and she couldn’t stop from staring. Sculpted and tan with an array of tattoos, his chest drew her gaze like a hummingbird to nectar. Forcing her eyes to move away from his ripped chest, they wandered a short distance to his muscled biceps. Then they moved upwards to his face.

He was just as hot as she remembered.

But she also remembered how furious he’d been when he’d found her in his bed, how he’d demanded that she get out, and how he’d ripped the covers off of her.

But then he’d put the covers back over her and let her stay.

Hope that he had a soft side surged through her, and she quietly made her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she paused for a moment to look at him again.

“Shay,” he said.

Her gaze snapped away from his naked chest and washboard abs up to his face. His eyes were open and he was watching her.

“Hi,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Frozen to the spot, she waited to see what he would do.

Never taking his eyes from her, he sat up, then he patted the cushion next to him. “Let’s talk.”

Terrified, but drawn to him like he was pulling on a string, she slowly closed the distance between them and sank onto the couch beside him. A good three feet lay between them, and as she sat there she faced forward, although her eyes slid in his direction for a moment before shifting to stare at the wall across from her.

To her surprise, he got off of the couch and hunkered down in front of her, capturing her gaze. It was then that she noticed his incredible blue eyes. Cerulean blue, it was like looking into a cloudless sky.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Her breath came out in a gentle rush and she couldn’t look away. Not even if looking away was the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world. But it wasn’t.

“Shay.” His voice was soft and calm, and she was suddenly desperate to stay.

Afraid she’d say something wrong and he’d send her away, she didn’t reply.

His eyebrows rose. “First of all, no more crying, okay?”

As long as you don’t kick me out. “Okay.” Her voice was very quiet and her hands were knotted in her lap.

“Good.” He smiled then—the first time she’d seen him smile—and she knew she could very easily fall for this man.

“Now,” he said, his face serious again. “How is it that you’re in my house, Shay?”

Every time he said her name it did something funny to her insides. Something she liked.

Moment of truth. Make it good, Shay. “I kind of got…stranded.” Memories of the day before filled her mind—frightened, thirsty, in pain—and she could feel heat building behind her eyes. She blinked a few times to suppress the tears. He’d told her not to cry, so she wasn’t going to cry.

“Okay.”

“I had nowhere to go and I was really thirsty and I saw your cabin.” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “I was…desperate.” The feelings she’d had the day before came rushing back in full force and a lone tear made it past her resolve, sliding down her cheek. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she swiftly wiped it away. “I’m sorry I broke in. I didn’t know what else to do.”

His eyes were steady on her face and she wondered what he was thinking.

* * *

This chick had to go. Josh didn’t care about her sob story. It was probably a complete lie anyway. He’d heard so many phony stories from football groupies over the years that he’d pretty much heard it all. He had things to focus on. These next few weeks were his only off-time from the NFL, and even then he had to attend a few team meetings and organized team practices before preseason training began. Being the star quarterback for the Sacramento Vipers had become the sole focus of his life, but even he needed time to pull back from the game, to recharge his batteries. And that didn’t include time with a groupie. He didn’t care how innocent she looked, or how gorgeous.

Kneeling in front of her, seeing those unshed tears brimming in her emerald-green eyes, he almost believed her story. But he couldn’t let himself fall for her baloney.

He still couldn’t believe she’d broken into his cabin, his one place of refuge. How had she found him? Well, he guessed it wouldn’t be too hard. But the nerve of this woman kind of astounded him.

He would send her on her way. Pronto. And then he would never see her again and he could focus on working out, relaxing, recharging.

Still, there was something about her that tugged at him, but he shoved that down. He had no time for that crap.

Okay, time for her to go.

Josh drew in a breath and said, “Sounds to me like we have a problem.”