“I’m not playing this game with you again,” she gritted out. “Just put on some clothes before room service gets here.”

“I don’t think this is about room service, I think you find me . . . irresistible.”

“Get over yourself,” she muttered, hating that damned smug look on his face.

He yanked one of the chair cushions out from behind his back and placed it neatly over his crotch, folding his hands over the top of the embroidered pillow.

“What?” He ...