...Drew climbed to his feet. He crossed his arms at the waist, gripped the bottom of his T-shirt, and slithered it up his torso and over his head.

Tori’s breath caught in her throat. As she had dreamed, brown hair matted Drew’s muscular chest. Below his breastbone, the hair tapered to a thin line, running down his flat belly to his navel before disappearing mysteriously into his waistband. Tori longed to follow that trail to its final destination. His dark nipples, quarter-sized and hard, pleaded to be suckled. It took all of Tori’s willpower to keep her fingers from kneading his sun-bronzed flesh and her tongue from sampling every inch of him.

After Drew left the room, Tori whipped off her nightgown and snuggled into his robe. Before long, Suzanne’s verbal blasts filled the apartment, once again demanding use of the beach house. The woman’s shrill voice, steamrolling through the wall, pushed Tori to the pinnacle of rage. She could only imagine how Drew must have felt, having listened to this shrewish woman’s whining for months on end.

Before Tori made her presense known, she stood before the full-length bedroom mirror, mussing her hair, grinding her lips together to give the impression of recent hard kissing, then strategically adjusted the robe in order to deliver the greatest visual impact. Finally satisfied with her sexy yet rumpled appearance, she stepped into the doorway.

“Damn you, Suzanne!” Drew spat, obviously pleased to have finally gotten a word in edgewise. “Leave my apartment this instant!”

“Be reasonable, Drew.” With an air of familiarity, Suzanne danced the fingers of one hand over his bare chest, drawing lazy circles around a nipple. Her voice lowered to a desperate yet seductive whisper, while her free hand toyed with the button at his waistband. “Can’t we work something out?”

The woman’s change of tactics automatically blinded Tori with jealous fury. It amazed her that in just two short days she should feel so proprietary regarding her handsome and charming protector, but what woman could resist his good looks, good humor, and good will? The would-be femme fatale knew Drew Brady in ways Tori had only dreamed, in ways she craved to experience, and she detested her for that knowledge. It took every bit of strength she possessed to not barrel across the room and rip every frosted strand of hair from the bitch’s skull.

To Tori’s relief, Drew swatted away his ex-wife’s seeking hands. “You played that card the other night as well. Have you forgotten? It didn’t work then and it certainly doesn’t work now. You seem to have selective memory, Suzanne, because you also promised just last night to stop nagging me about that house.”

Suzanne’s voice returned to its normal strident tone. “Oh, Drew, I did no such thing.”

Tori cleared her throat. “You most certainly did. I was a witness.”

The woman spun toward the bedroom door. In a replay of the previous night, she gawked and turned speechless. Her gaze roamed over Tori, obviously taking in the way Drew’s huge robe partially revealed her naked breasts as it hung from her bare shoulders.

Her overly painted mouth twisted into a sneer. “Stay out of this, honey! This is none of your God-damned business!” Her gray eyes narrowed. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t, honey. Now, get out of our apartment before things get really ugly.”

Behind Suzanne’s back, Drew gave Tori a smile that applauded her brilliance.

“Y—your apartment? You’re living here? With Drew?”

“I am, but truly that is none of your business.”