No, she told herself. She was stuck with Shane Callan. The best thing she could do would be to ignore him.

Pulling herself up to her full height, she tilted her head back and looked Callan in the eye. Heavens, he was tall-six feet four if he was an inch-and his shoulders seemed to take up half the room. There was an awful lot of him to ignore, and every inch was to-die-for handsome.

“I’ll show you around the house and give you a room, but I’ll ask that you stay out of the way,” she said primly. “This inn opens in five days, and there’s still a great deal of work to be done. I don’t need some brooding cop hanging around leaving the toilet seats up.”

Shane forgot himself and let go a rusty-sounding laugh. Damn, she had more spunk than he would ever have given her credit for. He had to force a frown; he wasn’t supposed to find her amusing… or cute… or alluring…

“Take your time doing the work,” he said as he followed her down the hall toward the central staircase. “You won’t be opening for business until after the trial.”

Faith wheeled on him with a stern look that brought him up short. “I most certainly will. I have guests booked. My friends have been staying here helping me get ready for the grand opening.”

“Friends?”

Shane stopped her on the stairs with a hand on her upper arm. Turning her around, his fingertips brushed the soft outer swell of her breast. The shock of the contact instantly derailed his train of thought. How would it feel to cup his hand beneath that firm, womanly globe of flesh? Heat surged through him in a wildfire of desire.