Free Playing the Playboy by Noelle Adams

she wouldn’t have to dry it.
    Agatha and Hector wouldn’t be up for another half-hour—the sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. She normally enjoyed the quiet of the early mornings, but it troubled her today. So, after she got coffee, she went to turn on her computer.
    Over the last twenty-four hours, several emails had come in from former guests, one telling her how much they’d loved staying at the inn a few months ago, a few asking if they could make reservations later in the season, and a couple wondering why she was currently closed for reservations and when she would be open again.
    A number of people came as guests year after year, and they were surprised and unhappy about not being able to stay at the inn this year.
    Laurel was unhappy too. The emails reminded her of everything she stood to lose, everything the Damons were trying to take away from her.
    Sex with Andrew had been great, and he seemed like a pretty good guy, but neither of those truths was most important.
    Nothing had really changed, despite how strange she felt this morning. Andrew was still a Damon, and the Damons wanted her out of this inn.
    Deciding she needed more ammunition to give herself proper perspective, she pulled up an internet search engine and typed in Andrew’s name. One of the first entries was the site she wanted.
    She’d found it a few weeks ago when she was trying to prepare for the Damon ambush and doing as much research as she could on the family.
    It was a rather creepy kind of fansite for Andrew Damon. The webmistress collected and linked every article and reference to Andrew posted online. Laurel scanned through the most recent links. Most were to gossip sites, reporting Andrew’s romantic conquests.
    He didn’t appear to indulge in one-night stands very often. Rather, he was more like a serial-dater, going out with one woman for several weeks before he moved on and found someone else.
    Laurel could see exactly how it might happen. Even knowing his history as commitment-phobe, there was something about Andrew’s way with a woman that made her feel like she was the most beautiful, special woman in the world. There was something warm and intimate in his eyes, in his expression, in his touch that could easily fool a woman into believing he was serious, that he could really fall for her in a way he hadn’t with all those other women.
    If Laurel were less experienced and cynical, she might believe such a thing herself after last night.
    He wasn’t an arrogant, selfish asshole who used women without thought for their feelings. He’d been too considerate for her to believe that. He’d gone out of his way to please her.
    But he’d never really had to commit to anything in his life, and he wasn’t likely to start now.
    It was just his way.
    The internet search helped. Reminded her of who she was, who he was, and what she needed to do.
    She felt more like herself when she went down to the kitchen and found Agatha pushing out bread dough on the counter.
    “What’s the matter?” Laurel asked, when her friendly greeting was answered with a wordless grunt.
    “Bad sunrise,” Agatha said, nodding out the window where the sun was rising behind the clouds in weird streaks of gray and purple.
    “What does that mean?”
    “Bad times coming. He needs to leave.”
    Laurel sighed. “I know.”
    She was worried as she picked up a basket and went out to the kitchen garden to pick tomatoes.
    The dogs came out with her, and they jumped up eagerly a few minutes later when they saw Andrew approaching.
    He must have stopped by his room to throw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, but he clearly hadn’t showered or shaved.
    Laurel felt her heart pounding as he knelt down to greet the dogs, grinning and talking to them as if they could understand him.
    She wished he had showered. His hair was still messy, and he looked too rumpled, too relaxed—his big, lean body inexplicably irresistible in the domestic context.
    She tried to focus on