When did squirrels learn to unlock doors? Didn't one need opposable thumbs for that sort of things? Arthur was pretty sure squirrels did not have opposable thumbs, unless his secondary science teacher had lied to him. Frankly, he wouldn't put it past Mr Richards. Arthur suspected that he made up half the stuff he taught the class. And where did the squirrels get the key to the cottage, anyway? Had Morgana buried a spare key somewhere in the garden and they dug it up instead of their nuts?

Arthur sat up in bed, clutching the covers to him as his groggy mind insisting on painting pictures of giant squirrels at the door, fumbling with keys. He blinked, then shook his head.

Yes, that was definitely the door being unlocked. But as his head cleared, he was pretty sure that it wasn't a giant squirrel, which meant that someone was at the door.

Damn. There was a reason he'd bought this isolated cottage and it wasn't so that he could entertain guests.

As quietly as possible, Arthur got out of bed and fumbled in the darkness for some clothes. No way was he going to confront a potential burglar naked. Just as he dug out a pair of shorts from his bag, he heard the lock finally yield to the key and the door open.

No time to dress fully now. Dragging on the shorts, Arthur moved to the bedroom door.

He stepped out gingerly into the bedroom. Before he could touch the light switch, light flooded the living room and Arthur found himself face to face with a woman he didn't recognise. She was short with long, black curls that fell to below her shoulder and bangs that covered her eyes. Clearly not expecting him, she took a step back, her eyes wide and her lush lips slightly open. The dress she had on had thin straps, showing off the line of her shoulders and was short enough that Arthur could see her slender legs.

She was pretty. That was the first thought that popped into his head. It was obvious that his exhaustion hadn't affected his libido.

"You're not a squirrel."

It had definitely affected his brains.

The woman stared at him for a beat, then from somewhere, pulled out what looked like a nail file. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Arthur blinked and frowned. Was this tiny woman wielding a nail file and threatening him? Perhaps his mind was still playing tricks on him. Not sleeping for two days tended to do that to a person. Still, he didn't really want to tangle with an armed woman, so he raised his arms in a gesture of peace.

"I'm Arthur. You know, the one who owns this place?"

The woman continued staring at him, then lowered the nail file. "Morgana's brother. I suppose you bear a resemblance. Do you have ID on you?"

"Excuse me, but you're the one breaking and entering here." Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. She didn't look like she was about to lunge at him with the nail file, which was a good thing. She didn't look like she was about to leave either, which was less than ideal because the last thing Arthur wanted was to look after a homeless waif.

Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her head. "I did not break in. I used a key. A key which Morgana gave me."

"Who are you? And why is Morgana giving the keys to my place away?"

"She took a sudden holiday so she couldn't housesit and -"

The idea of Morgana housesitting was the last straw and, exhausted and annoyed, Arthur snapped. "If you truly knew my sister, you would know that she hates this place. It's in the middle of nowhere. And I never asked her to housesit. I suggest you leave right now, or I'll call the police."

For a brief moment, uncertainty crossed the woman's face, but she hid it quickly. "Morgana said I could use this cottage for a while."

"Pay attention," said Arthur, his patience hanging by a thread. He wanted to sleep, not deal with some nutty woman. "This is my place. You are not welcomed here."

This time, her confident demeanor evaporated and all of a sudden, she looked younger and vulnerable. Arthur frowned. He didn't want her to look vulnerable. He wanted her out of his house. She didn't say anything immediately but Arthur could see that her brain was whirling with thoughts.

Then she sighed. "I'll be honest with you. I don't actually have a place to stay right now and it's almost midnight. And as you said, it is the middle of nowhere."

She was right. Even he couldn't turn a homeless woman out.

"Fine," he said. "You can take the spare room over there. But just for tonight. Tomorrow, you'll need to find somewhere else to stay. This isn't a home for lost girls."

"Thank you!" Her face broke into a smile, lighting up her eyes and for a while, Arthur couldn't tear his eyes from her.

Obviously, he was sleep and woman-deprived. With a grunt, he went back into his room, slammed the door shut so she knew how much he didn't want her there and collapsed into his bed, letting sleep claim him.

Gwen's heart was pounding so hard, she felt that it might burst out of her ribcage and make a dash for it. Once the door slammed, she let out the breath she had been holding. The worse thing was that she wasn't sure if her heart was racing because she was a hair breadth away from being thrown out of the cottage or because she had been standing within touching distance of a very sexy, mostly naked man. It had taken all of her willpower not to let her eyes drift any lower than his collar bone.

Taking a few bracing breaths, Gwen picked up her duffel bag, then walked to the room that Arthur had gestured to. A single bed called out to her and gratefully, she sank into its embrace and closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow she would sort out the mess she was in.

Light. Coffee. Gwen blinked a few times. Why was her bed next to the window? Then, she remembered. Naked man. Nail file. Morgana. She had to get hold of Morgana and find out what on earth was happening. Morgana had promised Gwen that her step-brother wouldn't be home for at least two months and Gwen could use the cottage as a retreat to write her book, if she was willing to housesit.

She rummaged through her purse, finally emptying it on the bed, before she found her phone. A few taps and she was connected to Morgana. Actually, she was connected to Morgana's voice mail. Gwen tried again but much to her frustration, she kept getting Morgana's voice mail. After her fourth try, Gwen tossed her phone onto the bed, then flopped back down on it, burying her face into the pillow. The smell of coffee that wafted into the room told her that Arthur was up and about. If she left the room, she would have to face him. Immediately, her mind flashed back to his rumpled, mostly naked state and she felt heat burn in her cheeks. She couldn't face him. Maybe she could stay in this room forever.

Her bladder didn't like that plan and made its objection known quite urgently.

Checking that she looked somewhat presentable, Gwen grabbed her toiletries and peered out of the room. She didn't see anyone in the living room so slowly, she crept out. She knew which door led to Arthur's room so the other door had to be the bathroom. When she made it successfully into the bathroom, Gwen closed the door, leaning against it in relief.

A quick shower later, Gwen was feeling much better and a lot more in control. All she had to do was to explain to Arthur how this whole situation came about and surely he would help her find a solution. After all, he had a reputation for being generous and kind, if somewhat private. Unlike Morgana, Arthur Penn didn't court the limelight. He attended charity events occasionally, gifting large donations, but was rarely part of the social scene that Morgana travelled in.

Giving herself a quick pep talk, Gwen opened the door and stepped out. The cottage was still empty and she wondered if Arthur was trying to avoid her. Perhaps he expected her to clear out by the time he returned. Something she would have done, if she hadn't rented out her apartment. Gwen went back to the guest room, made her bed and ran a brush through her hair. She might not be able to hide in this room forever, but she could definitely try. Pulling out her battered notebook and pen, Gwen settled down on the bed and within minutes, she had drifted off to a land of dragons, magic and princesses

She wasn't sure how long she'd been making notes when the knock came.

"Are you planning to hide in there forever?"

"Of course not," Gwen said, scrambling off the bed. Tucking her notebook under the pillow, she walked to the door and opened it.

Arthur stood across the threshold, in a tight cotton tee and shorts that moulded to his very fine butt. His hair was damp and slicked back and a thin layer of sweat suggested that he'd just returned from some exercise. When she exercised, she looked like a drowned rat. Arthur apparently looked like a cover model with aesthetically pleasing sweat.

"Are you done looking at me?"

Heat rushed through Gwen but she made herself meet his gaze. "I'm just repaying the favour. You took a good look last night."

"That was because I was surprised to find a strange woman breaking into my home in the middle of the night."

"It's not breaking in if I have the key."

"A key you claim my mysteriously uncontactable step-sister gave you." He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you lifted it from my sister. God knows how careless she can be with her belongings. Was she at some party where you waited and she conveniently left her purse on the table?"

Gwen wondered how much she would regret marring that gorgeous face by punching it. Not much, she suspected. But she would probably regret being sent to jail for assault. Maybe.

"Do you also think I murdered your sister and that's why she's uncontactable now?" Her fingers curled into her palms, just in case she changed her mind. After all a stint in jail might add some authenticity to her writing. Didn't the best authors always go through some form of hardship?

One side of his lips quirked. "I might give you a reward for that. Did you do it quickly? Or did she suffer?"

Unnerved by his sudden good humour, Gwen's immediate reaction was to scowl at him, which turned the little smirk on his face into a full-blown smile.

Then, he gestured to the kitchen. "How about some breakfast before you leave? I make a mean scrambled eggs."

"Leave?"

The smile faded. "Well, yes. Whatever it is Morgana told you, obviously I am here now so you can't stay."

"Right. Remember I told you last night that I didn't have a place to stay? Funny thing but I still don't have a place to stay now."

"The city is about a two hour drive away. You can probably find a bed and breakfast there," said Arthur, the warm humour that had been in his voice just moments ago replaced by a coolness that made Gwen even more defensive.

"I cannot afford to stay at a bed and breakfast for a month."

Arthur shrugged and turned away. "That's hardly my problem. This is my house and unfortunately, as I said last night, you can't stay."

Panicked, Gwen reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from walking away. His skin was warm and smooth, and he didn't pull away, although he frowned at her. "Look, I appreciate that you don't want me here but Morgana promised me that I could stay here for 2 months and so I rented out my own apartment -"

This time, he pulled his arm from her grip. "Do you want money? I admit that this is a new scam but if money will get you to leave, then fine. How much do you want?"

The urge to punch him rose in Gwen again but instead she sucked in a breath. "I don't want money. I don't even want to stay here anymore, especially not with you around. But I don't seem to have much of a choice."

"You know, for someone who wants to persuade me to let her stay in my house, you're being very disagreeable."

"That happens when you're accused of being a thief, then a scam artist," muttered Gwen, even as the more sensible part of her brain told her that she should really be scraping at his feet for his goodwill. Yet, there was something about him that roused her ire. She closed her eyes, willing her temper to subside. She needed to channel Heather, the calm, patient and level-headed dragon rider from her book. "I don't have money but I have skills. I can cook and clean this place in exchange for you letting me stay on. And you won't even know I'm here. I'll stay in the room most of the time and out of your way."

Arthur dragged a hand through his hair.

Gwen bit her bottom lip and tried to look vulnerable, widening her eyes slightly and bowing her head. "If you throw me out, I'll have to sleep on the streets. Morgana would not be happy."

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "You are a manipulative one and I am going to regret this, but fine. You can stay in the guest room. Just keep out of my way."

"Thank you. I promise that you wouldn't know I'm here."

"I doubt it," he said before he disappeared into his bedroom and slammed his door again.

Written for the April roundtablemanagers prompt (check the tumblr out!). I told myself I would finish my WIPs, and then I wrote this instead. I have no self control. :((((