" I suggest you move on. You're trespassing."

"I didn't mean to." Raven felt flustered and just a tiny bit put out as the man's golden gaze raked her body. How direct could one be? This machete-wielding laborer, an employee no less, dressed in torn denim shorts and a soiled T-shirt, acting as if he owned the place.

Raven recovered. "Are you always this rude to paying guests?" In less than an hour she would be a guest, so that was no lie. She made a mental note to let the front desk know how inhospitable he was.

"Didn't you read the sign? The laborer persisted.

Raven bristled, "What sign?"

"The one that said, 'No Trespassing. Private property.'"

Not feeling particularly friendly to the male species on the whole, she stood her ground. This one was downright impertinent. "There was no sign." At least she didn't remember seeing one. All the pent-up anger and hurt of the last week came to a head as she glared at the man in front of her and he glared back.

He was model good-looking, if you liked the type: his skin the deep rich color of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, his slightly pouted lips rich and full, the nostrils arrogantly flared. Much as she hated to admit it, she was drawn to his magnificent golden eyes and a body that seemed hewn out of volcanic island rock. For a moment, Raven had some difficulty reminding herself she was off men. A beautiful body and handsome face did not a good person make. She'd been suckered in before, and look how it had ended.