He glanced at his navy polo shirt neatly tossed over the back of the chair in the corner. Those were his running shoes tucked under the chair, too.

Good. He was in the right suite. Which meant that some woman was definitely in the wrong one. Cameron swore under his breath. This had to be Brandon’s work. It would be just like his brother to hire a woman as a “surprise.” It was the only explanation, because without the approval of a family member, there was no way the front desk would ever allow a strange woman into his room.

He stood listening to the soft singing and wondered what his next step ought to be. He should probably be a gentleman and wait for whomever it was to finish her shower, dry off and put some clothes on before he kicked her out. But then, he’d never claimed to be a gentleman.

Besides, he wasn’t the one guilty of breaking and entering. And showering. So he stood at the entrance to the bathroom and waited as the water was turned off and the shower door opened.

One incredibly shapely, bare, wet leg emerged at the same time as a well-toned, lightly freckled arm reached to grab a towel. Cameron pulled one off the rack and handed it to her. “Allow me.”

Her scream was shrill enough to peel the paint off the bathroom wall.

“Get out!” she cried, then dropped the towel in her anxious rush to cover herself up.

“Funny, that’s just what I was about to say to you,” he told her.

Cameron wasn’t normally a voyeur. He should’ve moved away from the door immediately and given her some privacy, but he couldn’t. All he could do was gawk like a school kid at her wet-dream-inducing breasts. High, round orbs with tight pink nipples that he imagined would fit perfectly in his hands. And his mouth. His imagination didn’t stop there. He wanted to reach out and touch the smooth skin of her stomach, then let his fingers wander down to the delicious patch of dark blond hair at the apex of her curvaceous thighs.