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navy boxer-briefs.
    He flicks the channel on the TV, acting as though there’s nothing at all wrong with this entire scene.
    “What the hell are you doing?” I ask in disbelief.
    He gives me a shrug, flipping the channel again. “Trying to find something worth watching.”
    His eyes don’t even meet mine, and I continue staring, torn between being speechless and confused. Confusion wins, prompting my lips to move.
    “Why are you in my bed?”
    “The bathroom wasn’t very comfortable.”
    I’m going to kill him.
    “Kode,” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose, “why are you in my bed?”
    “Better question,” he says, flipping the channel once again. “Why are you in a regular room instead of a suite?”
    That’s not a better question. It’s a stupid question.
    “I took a regular room to make sure everyone else coming for this week had a nice suite. The hotel only had a limited number left when I checked for availability, so I booked this room since I’m less high maintenance.”
    He snorts as though that’s a ludicrous claim. “ You’re less high maintenance? You were driving a top-of-the-line Benz when you turned sixteen. Your wardrobe costs more than most people’s homes. And you have enough makeup in that bathroom to take care of Broadway’s needs. Seriously, who brings that much makeup? You have like thirty of everything, and there’s three bags of the stuff in there.”
    I frown, realizing he’s been snooping. I suppose he didn’t just sit in the bathroom and stare at the back of the door while I was trying to get Rain out.
    “That’s for something I’m doing while I’m here. I arranged a lunch meeting for tomorrow.”
    That seems to get his attention because he leans up from the bed and flips off the TV.
    “You’re selling makeup?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.
    It’s not surprising that no one knows or cares what I’ve been doing with my life. It shouldn’t bother me that Kode has no clue, but it does. I know every business he owns or invests in.
    Christ, I sound like a stalker.
    “I’m launching my own line. The lady I’m meeting tomorrow has a chain of department stores. They’re small and admittedly low-end, but it’s a start. I don’t expect to be an overnight sensation. But if the meeting goes well, I’ll get a second meeting in the afternoon, and I’ll need to have that makeup with me.”
    His grin slides up as his eyes do something funny. He’s amused. The bastard is amused. I should have kept my mouth shut.
    “Get out of my room if you’re going to sit there and make fun of me. I’ve put a lot of work into this.”
    I turn and head toward the bathroom, but the sound of the bed shifting and feet moving hurriedly have me turning around. I almost bump into him when he tries to match my abrupt stop.
    “I wasn’t making fun,” he says with a cheeky grin that betrays him. “I swear. I was just surprised that you’re doing this the hard way. You’re the niece of Paul Colton—fashion master of the universe. Call him. He’d put your line in his stores, and it would take off with ease.”
    Rolling my eyes, I head into the bathroom, groaning when he follows behind me and shuts the door. I’m not claustrophobic, but right now, with Kode sharing this small space with me, I’m finding it hard to breathe. I focus—or try to focus—on the conversation at hand, as opposed to the gloriously nearly naked man.
    “I don’t want to do it the easy way. I want to earn my spot so that no one can take success away from me if I make it. I still have money from my trust, and every dime is going into this. It means a lot to me.”
    His grin only grows as he leans back against the counter of the small bathroom, watching me with guileless amusement. His exposed body is very distracting despite my attempts to ignore it, and that only pisses me off more. He shouldn’t be so frigging sexy when I’m pissed. And he really shouldn’t be hard right now.
    “Stop looking at me