Cinnamon and Roses by Heidi Betts Page B

and Mrs. Wilkes were most likely asleep and would only awaken if someone rang the bell on the counter.
    Rebecca slipped into the lobby and went to the hotel's register. She knew Mrs. Wilkes required everyone to sign in, no matter how frequently they stayed. Rebecca quickly scanned the signatures. At the very bottom of the page was the name she had been hoping to find. Caleb Z. Adams. Room E.
    Looking around one last time to make sure she remained unseen, Rebecca smiled secretly and started up the stairs to the second floor. She would give that insufferable man a piece of her mind and get her money if it killed her!
    Her breath caught when she came to the room marked E. A thread of doubt niggled at her mind, but her anger quickly pushed it aside. She rapped her fist on the door three times in agitated succession.
    "Come in."
    The words were muffled, drowsy-sounding, but plainly masculine. With a slight pang of guilt, Rebecca became aware of the fact that Caleb Adams might have already gone to sleep. Well, too bad. He's awake now. Go in and give him what for!
    Rebecca turned the silver handle and entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She'd expected the Wilkes Hotel to be nice, but not this nice. She'd had no idea there were sitting rooms between hall and bedroom. What an extravagance for a little town like Leavenworth.
    But then, she reminded herself, some people could afford the luxury. Men like Caleb Adams. If he could afford to rent this room for the night when his house was no more than three miles from town, then he could most certainly afford the bill she'd sent.
    She took a deep breath and steeled herself to confront him, moving farther into the room. Her steps made a board squeak beneath the carpeting.
    "I'm in here,” she heard him call. “Just close the door behind you."
    Well, surely if he was inviting her in, he couldn't be abed already. He was probably reading or working on some figures for the Express.
    She stepped into the adjacent room, her eyes coming to rest on a large mahogany roll-top desk stacked with papers and leather-bound volumes. Low, flickering lamplight emanated from the desk, casting the surroundings into pools of luminous yellow or shadowy gray.
    A lump rose in her throat when her eyes fell upon the large four-poster bed in the center of the room. She had never been in a man's room before and wasn't sure she should be now. But she needed that money. Without it, her business would go under faster than a sinking steamship. If need be, she would walk through the fires of hell to exact payment.
    She turned her gaze to the other side of the room, where her prey was no doubt sitting up with a good book.
    My God! Rebecca's mouth dropped open as she stood stock-still, staring with wide eyes at Caleb Adams—naked. His long body was folded into a tub filled with steaming water, clear but for a thin layer of soap suds.
    In an instant, Rebecca took in every detail of the sensual picture he created dozing in the porcelain bath, his head lolling comfortably on one shoulder. She knew it was shameful, but of their own accord her eyes traveled from the damp hair of Caleb's head to that of his chest, glistening with delicate drops of water.
    She whirled around—mortified clear down to her toes—and reached for the doorknob. If she didn't get out of here now, her mind would end up where it had no business wandering. She could wait until tomorrow to confront him. At the moment, that certainly seemed the smartest thing to do.
    "Just set the towels down over here.” With his eyes still closed, Caleb reached out an arm and patted the seat of a nearby chair, freezing Rebecca's blood in her veins. “Hand me the washcloth, please."
    If only he would keep his eyes closed until she escaped. Rebecca started to gently pull at the door, grimacing when it squeaked in protest.
    At the low moan of ungreased hinges, Caleb's eyes popped open, searching through the dim light for the source of the noise. Startled to