Abby’s heart pounded in her chest. A naked Adonis in her bed. One who apparently spent the better part of his life in a gym, too, from the looks of him. Those arms were magnificent. If she didn’t think she’d risk waking him, she’d hunt down a measuring tape just to prove how truly magnificent they were.
She swallowed hard and glanced back up to his face only to find herself staring into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. They were so mesmerizing it took her a delayed moment to realize that not only was he awake, he’d also obviously caught her ogling his body.
Well, what could he expect? He was in her bed, after all. A man who looked like that? And wearing nothing but skin? Oh, yeah. A man like that was going to get stared at anywhere. He should be used to it.
Rationalization or no, her cheeks still heated. “Good morning.” She tried to ignore the nervous squeak in her voice. “Sleep well?”
Hell’s bells. She sounded like some inexperienced old maid trying to make small talk after a one-night stand.
“Aye,” he answered, his deep voice reverberating in her chest. “I suppose I did at that. Where am I?”
Gorgeous, built like the proverbial brick outhouse, and on top of all that, he even spoke with a brogue. That was it. She was never going to even attempt to meet another man without ten or twenty pretty little candy-flavored drinks under her belt.
“My house in the city. Denver. Colorado. You just flew into town last night? I guess we met at the bar, huh? At the hotel out by the airport?”
Great. Now she was babbling like some total idiot. So much for smooth and sexy morning after. Classy way to break the news that she had no earthly idea who he was or where they’d met. Wonderful impression she was making. No doubt he’d think she was some hotel-stalker sleazebag who picked up strange men on a regular basis and then dragged them home to. . .
Damn. Whathadshe brought him home for? She had no idea whether they’d done anything other than actually sleep. She couldn’t even remember his name.
“Colorado.” He rolled the word around in his mouth, stretching out every vowel. “How did I get here?”
Apparently she hadn’t been the only one drinking more than her fair share of alcohol last night.
“Taxi?” She found herself helplessly shaking her head as she climbed out of bed.
“Taxi,” he repeated, his tongue caressing the word as if it were an alien concept.
“Taxi,” she confirmed, much more confidently than she felt.
What was with him anyway? He ran his hand in a slow caress, back and forth across the sheet where she had lain only moments before, his eyes darting about, scanning the room as if he wanted to miss nothing.
To hell with it. She couldn’t keep pretending like this, especially since there didn’t seem to be any way she was going to pick up enough clues from her overnight guest to figure out who he was. Honesty wasn’t just her best choice, it was shaping up to be her only choice. “I don’t seem to remember very much from last night. I was out with friends and then I guess I must have met you? I know this is probably going to sound like a line, but I don’t do things like this. Not ever. This really is beyond embarrassing, but I don’t remember bringing you home with me. I don’t even remember your name.”
He sat up and the covers pooled in his lap, his hands scrubbing over his face.
“Colin,” he mumbled through his fingers. “Colin MacAlister.”
God. Even his name was beautiful. Especially when uttered in that deep, rumbly brogue of his.
“And you, lass?” His gaze captured hers again. “What are you called?”
“Abby,” she answered, feeling unreasonably hurt that she’d made so little impression on him that he’d forgotten her name as they slept. “Abigail Porter.”
Just when she’d thought the moment couldn’t get any more awkward, a tiny click sounded from the alarm sitting on her headboard, followed by an ear-splitting blast of music.
Colin sprang from the bed as Abby dived for the clock, slamming her hand down on the little button to silence the offending machine.
“Sorry about that. I keep it really loud because I have a hard time waking up in the . . .” The words dried up in her mouth as she turned around. It was as if her brain had forgotten what words even were, let alone how to string them together to form sentences.
Colin hovered at the bedside, naked. Completely, gorgeously, take-her-breath-away naked. Head lowered, legs flexed, arms lifted, poised as if he were single-handedly ready to take on an entire army of bad guys.
The only thing at odds with his perfect Spartan warrior pose was the look of confusion on his face.
“That noise is meant to waken you?”
“Hello? Alarm clock.” She managed at last to drag her eyes back into her head and turn her back to him. “Jesus. You need to put some clothes on.” Really, really needed to. Either that or she was going to make a complete fool of herself by jumping him right here in the middle of her bedroom.
Heaven knew, he looked ready to be jumped. Every hard bit of him.