…His barging into her home uninvited had surprised her. But when his T-shirt followed his hat onto the ottoman, Mei Ling nearly choked on her shock. “I’m afraid there’s been some sort of mistake here,” she gasped, trying not to stare at his nicely formed pectorals.

She certainly had no intention of appreciating the golden mass of curly brown wisps feathered across his chest and washboard abs. Or how a thickened swatch ran downward from his navel to disappear into the waistband of his jeans. And she absolutely refused to acknowledge the interest peaking within herself—the increased heart rate, the needful throb deep within her belly, the dampness in her panties.

As though ignoring her statement, he continued to undress. His boots followed along behind his shirt. Then his socks. He’d was just unzipping his pants when Mei Ling realized if she didn’t intervene, she’d soon have a naked man standing in the middle of her living room.

“Wait! Please. I really don’t understand what’s going on here.”

Quickly crossing the room, she darted for the ottoman and his growing pile of clothing. Then she snatched up his shirt and thrust it toward him. “Here, put this back on. You can’t just barge in here and start taking your clothes off. I don’t know if this is some kind of a joke, but I only ordered…I don’t even know who you are for Pete’s sake!”

He stared at her, long and hard, seemingly trying to figure out if she were playing a game or genuinely confused. “Ya really didn’t know what special delivery meant when ya ordered it, did ya.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a declaration.