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of her, glistening with sweat, had her gaping in shock.

      ‘Hey, it’s the bad cop. Jessie, right?’

      Jessie’s eyes shot up to his face. His hair, she noticed, was a dark, burnished blond when it was dry, streaked with gold. With a red and white bandanna tied round his forehead, his tanned, angular face and that thin scar across his brow, he looked like some beautiful Apache sun god, she thought in amazement. Then she spotted the glint of amusement in his riveting blue eyes.

      ‘Don’t you ever wear a shirt?’ she snapped.

      He grinned, sending some really annoying dimples into his cheeks. ‘Not when it’s hot and I’m doing manual labour.’

      ‘Or when you’re pinching a swim in someone else’s pool.’ The snide remark was out before she could stop it. There was something about the sight of those perfect pectoral muscles, or maybe it was the tantalising sprinkling of chest hair across them, that just seemed to bring out her inner bitch.

      ‘Well…’ The cool amusement in his voice made her bristle ‘…I figure swimming in your clothes is kind of dumb.’

      At that precise moment, Jessie recalled exactly what he had—or rather had not—been wearing when she’d first spotted him and her traitorous skin flushed with colour.

      Monroe watched the vivid pink flood her cheeks and grinned some more. No doubt about it, the woman was seriously cute. That mass of curly red hair, which was tied back but hardly tamed, and those round sea-green eyes. With the peaches-and-cream skin and high cheekbones, her face was made up of enchanting contrasts. He glanced down at her slim, shapely legs, showcased by the short skirt of her sundress. Her top half was hidden behind the pile of linens she carried, but he could still remember the feel of her lush breasts pressed against his forearm. She certainly came in one enticing little package.

      Jessie hadn’t missed the quick but thorough once-over. The flash of warmth and appreciation she’d seen in his eyes wasn’t doing a thing for the burning in her cheeks. How humiliating. ‘What are you grinning at?’

      ‘Just admiring the scenery.’

      Jessie sent him what she hoped was a withering glance. Unperturbed, he leaned forward and plucked the sheets out of her arms.

      ‘Come on in.’ He bumped open the door with his butt and strolled into the room.

      Jessie stepped gingerly across the threshold. Calm down, woman, and don’t show him how much he unnerves you. She was trying to think of a neutral comment when she spotted the bed frame leaning against the far wall. ‘What are you doing to the furniture?’

      He dumped the sheets on the sofa. ‘No need to get ants in your pants. I’m not stealing it.’

      Jessie could see the stiff set of his shoulders and suddenly felt ashamed of herself.

      She’d promised Ali she’d make peace with him, instead she’d been nasty as soon as he’d opened the door. ‘I didn’t think you were stealing it,’ she said quietly.

      ‘You sure about that?’ She heard the humour in his voice, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he studied her.

      She swallowed. ‘Of course I am. I was just curious. Is there something wrong with the bed frame?’ The intense look in his eyes was making her jumpy again.

      He shrugged. ‘No, I’m just moving it in here. I’ve got plans for the other room.’

      ‘Well, that solves that mystery.’ She brushed her hands down her dress. ‘You’re obviously busy. I’ll leave you to it.’

      ‘Hey, hold up.’ He walked up to her, blocking her exit. ‘You’re not still pissed about what happened by the pool, are you?’

      Of course she was. ‘Of course I’m not.’

      ‘You are, aren’t you?’ That slow, infuriating grin spread across his face, shooting those irresistible dimples back into his cheeks. ‘You’ve got that fired-up look in your eyes.’ He flicked a finger at her ponytail. ‘Suits you—goes with the hair.’

      He was laughing at her again. How infuriating. Jessie put on her best queen-to-serf voice. ‘Thank you very much. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an original compliment.’

      She tried to walk past him, but he simply reached out and took hold of her upper arm. The warmth of his hard, callused fingers was such a surprise, she yelped.

      ‘Don’t panic.’ Despite the quiet tone, he continued to hold her in place.

      ‘Let go!’ Her voice came out in a breathless rush. He stood so close she could smell him, the musty, but not unpleasant, scent of fresh male sweat.

      He dropped his hand, then held the palm up as if in surrender. ‘No harm done. I just figured I should say sorry, for earlier.’

      The contrite words would be more convincing, Jessie thought, if his eyes weren’t dancing with amusement.

      She took a quick step back. She really, really wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Tell him he was an overbearing oaf who needed to learn some manners. But she couldn’t. His words had reminded her of her promise to Ali.

      She was supposed to be apologising to him, not the other way round. Because she couldn’t bear to see him laugh at her when she did it, she looked down at her feet. ‘That’s okay. I guess I was quite rude to you, too.’

      She mumbled the words, but when he didn’t say anything she was forced to look up. He wasn’t smiling any more. In fact, he looked astonished. ‘Are you kidding me?’

      ‘No, I’m not.’ Jessie bit back her annoyance. Why was he making this so difficult? ‘My sister pointed out that, since you were invited here, you were the wronged party, so I should apologise to you.’

      ‘Is that right?’ He tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans; his lips twitched. ‘So it was big sis that put you up to this. She make you come over with the linens, too?’

      Irritated by his perception, Jessie kept her tone even. ‘I’m trying to give you a simple and sincere apology. What exactly is your problem?’

      ‘Simple, yeah. Sincere?’ He considered the question for a moment. ‘I don’t think so.’

      Jessie glared at him. Sod diplomacy. ‘You really are insufferable, aren’t you?’

      He laughed then, the gesture making his handsome face relax in a way that was ludicrously appealing. Jessie glared at him some more, determined not to notice it.

      ‘Like I said, Red. You’re cute when you’re mad.’

      Jessie’s belly tightened at the hot look in his eyes and the gruff way he said the new nickname. ‘I’m leaving. I did my best,’ she said as she stalked over to the door.

      She could hear him laughing harder as she wrenched the door open. She was just about to slam it behind her, though, when she remembered something else.

      Turning back, she was dismayed to see he’d followed her. Gripping the door, he leaned against it and grinned down at her. ‘What is it, Red? You got something else to apologise for?’

      Ignoring the teasing glint in his eyes, Jessie stepped back onto the landing. ‘Believe me, that’s the only apology you’ll ever get out of me.’

      ‘Now that’s a shame, when you’re so good at it.’

      For a deadbeat, he certainly had an answer for everything.

      ‘My sister wanted to invite you to dinner this evening at the house.’ She spat the words out. ‘About seven o’clock. I’m sure you can find your own way there.’

      Duty done, Jessie stomped off down the stairs. Just as she reached the bottom he called after her. ‘Hey, Red. You gonna be there?’

      She looked back over her shoulder. ‘Of course I am.’

      He

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