When Emily opens the door of her hotel room, her face slackens in shock. But what I notice most is how damned beautiful she looks in her gray oversized T-shirt, her hair falling in wet curls around her shoulders. Her face is bare, her lips full and enticing as she takes me in. “You’re not the delivery guy,” she murmurs. “You were going to open the door looking like that?” My gaze drags down her body, the way her damp hair leaves wet spots on her shirt, dripping down across her breasts. Her legs are miles long under the hem, begging a man to sell his soul for the chance...