Excerpt

No, the man drooling over her friend wasn't Reed's type after all. She liked her brain-boys with a sense of style. This one apparently had nothing going for him, except the good taste to avoid a major fashion faux pas. Men should have to gain the written approval of ten women, not relatives, before wearing bikini swim suits. It should be a law. Especially in Vegas.
 
Reed hid her disgust by trying to coax an ice cube from the glass and into her mouth. Predictably, the ice clung to the bottom no matter how much she rattled it. She tried one last time only to have the entire mass let loose and spill across her face, over her chest and down inside her suit.
 
Typical, Reed snarled internally while her best friend hooted with laughter. Reed didn't dare look up as she brushed the rogue cubes away.
 
"May I offer you a towel?"
 
The smooth deep voice and an undeniably male presence made Reed notice the man holding out a towel. Black hair, eyes hidden behind the mandatory sunglasses, bronzed skin, lean but bulging muscles and six-pack abs sliding into baggy swim trunks. He could have worn a Speedo—and how.