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pressed her closer. Oh yeah, like that.
    “Jake?”
    Stifling a sigh of regret, he swung the door beside them open and admired her rear view in the mirror. “Turn slowly.”
    He clamped his arm around her to keep her close. She needed to know the value of the cards in the deck she was playing with, needed to appreciate that he wasn’t a benign presence in her home. But the brush of her body against his as she turned had him biting back a groan. Who knew there’d be such a fine line between showing her she was sexy on her own and demonstrating how sexy they could be together?
    The fine white cotton of her tank top revealed the curves of her breasts in stunning detail. They looked like they were supported by invisible hands, lifted high and pushed together as if each longed for the other’s softness.
    “Do you see what I see? A complete fail in the nonsexy stakes.”
    She squealed and flung her hands up to conceal the pert tips of her breasts. The urge to cover her hands and guide them in aslow circular motion was so strong that his hands were more than halfway to their destination before he called a stop to the idea.
    Leaning his face close to her ear, he forced a chuckle. “Shall I tell you what caught my attention first?” When she shook her head, he shifted the arm he had around her, using his forearm to nudge her breasts higher so they swelled above the neckline of her tank top. “What’s a famous guy to do when this is the woman he finds himself engaged to?”
    She didn’t react. She just studied his face.
    He nuzzled his lips against the side of her neck. “I should probably tell you that I still have a privileged view.”
    She blushed and made a hasty adjustment to the fabric before pushing away from him and crossing her arms across her chest.
    She took several steps back and choked out a reply. “I Googled you while the soup cooked earlier. The media say you seduce every woman you meet, and it looks as if they got that right.”
    He hadn’t been seducing her. If he had, they wouldn’t be angry and frustrated and facing off across the hall. Seducing a grieving woman whose private life was about to be picked apart by scavengers would be unforgivable, but he might not be able to help himself if she was half-dressed.
    “Put some clothes on, Beth. You’re sharing your house with a man who’s accustomed to getting whatever he wants.”
    The lie left a sour taste in his mouth, but Beth would believe it. His trumped-up reputation as a player preceded him.
    “Gotcha,” she said. “If it’s up to me to make sure you’re not tempted, then I’ll put my chicken suit back on straightaway. Nothing could be less enticing than that.”
    She couldn’t be more wrong, but he didn’t correct her assumption. “Put the apron on and I’ll give you a hand getting the food into storage. Dawn’s approaching fast and we could be in for a busy day.”

    …

    Beth slid the last foil container into the cool room and stifled a yawn as she removed her disposable food-handling gloves.
    She kept forgetting that the diligent worker in her kitchen was Jake-freaking-Olsen. His earlier arrogance in the hall didn’t gel with the man standing before her now. She yawned hugely and handed him a dinner plate. “Can I get you something to eat before I turn in?”
    Setting his plate on the cleared counter, he motioned for her to turn her back to him. “Food can wait. Sleep can’t.” He undid the ties on her apron and let it drop to the floor. “This is the warmest room in the house,” he said as he pulled her pajama top off the floor. “You’ll need long sleeves once you leave here.” His voice was calming, almost hypnotic, and since he hadn’t appreciated her taking her clothes off, it made a strange kind of sense that he’d want to dress her. “Straighten your arm, put it through the sleeve.”
    He held up her pajama top.
    She tried to do what he said, but anything more strenuous than breathing