sometimes happens in the waking-up period when reality and dreams
blur, her mind pictured Dade entering the bedroom and leaning over
the bed. Slowly and tantalizingly he unbuttoned the shirt he’d lent
her, then pulled it back.
A raging hunger filled the pit of her stomach, spreading to her toes.
What were his thoughts as he gazed down at her? What would it feel
like when he touched her?
The fantasy seemed so real, maybe because she wanted so much for it
to happen. If Dade walked into the bedroom this minute, she couldn’t
refuse him.
I should not be thinking this. Sleeping in Dade’s bed has
to be the cause of these wild imaginings. Dade is my law partner, not
my sex partner. The hunger raging inside of me is actually that,
hunger. It’s seven o’clock. I haven’t eaten anything in a
while.
Time to forage. Julie swung her feet over the side of the bed. When
they touched the floor, the room spun crazily. She clutched the
mattress, waiting for everything to straighten out.
She must have gotten up too fast. Where were her slippers? Boy, she
was muddled. Of course, they weren’t here. They were in her
bedroom. She was in Dade’s. She had to wake up. She had to eat.
Then she’d feel right.
* * *
Julie had never had occasion to visit Dade’s condo alone. A few
years ago, after she’d moved out of Chicago to Arlingdale, he’d
relocated here from the old neighborhood so he could be close to the
office. She’d gotten a grand tour with the family then, but he’d
remodeled since.
As she stepped into the stylish yet practical kitchen, Julie smiled
with delight. Gleaming copper plates hung from black wrought iron
hangers. A trailing English ivy plant swung over the sink window
sill. A cooking grill was built into the counter-top.
What in other homes might be a recipe nook, instead was a repository
for sports magazines and a legal pad. That was Dade for you.
As she opened the steel door of the refrigerator and reached down for
the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf, the floor creaked.
Straightening, she turned.
What she saw made her eyes widen. Dade stood behind her with only a
wet towel slung around his waist.
She wasn’t the only one who worked out and went to pump classes.
Those abs of his could sell a million machines on TV. She tried to
look away, but couldn’t help noticing the dark curly hairs forming
a vee extending down to a point below his waist, an area barely
covered by the towel. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard.
Their eyes met. He looked hungry and not for food.
“Oh, hi,” she said brightly, ignoring the odd thumping of her
heart.
He backed away. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were up. I’ll get
dressed.”
Julie nodded dumbly. She could pretend what he was wearing didn’t
matter, but why fool herself. He looked way too inviting. She
couldn’t deal with that sort of thing now. She had enough on her
plate already.
She smiled. There she was, thinking in food metaphors. She better get
something to eat.
* * *
Safely clad in an armor of Dockers,polo
shirt and loafers, Dade stepped back into the kitchen. Julie was
standing exactly where he’d left her, in the middle of the floor,
holding the carton of eggs, looking dazed and charmingly helpless. He
didn’t see this side of her often, which made her all the more
appealing.
Her full lips, with the lipstick bitten off, were damn inviting, as
were her sinfully long legs. Breakfast would definitely be an
exercise in will power. Would he be up to it, in more ways than one?
“Okay, let’s get the grub going,” Dade said, determined to set
things back on an even keel.
She nodded absently.
“Here, let me take that.” He reached for the carton and connected
with her hand. A bolt of lightning shot from his palm up through his
arm. He almost dropped the eggs.
Her eyes met his then glanced away. Had she felt the collision of
chemistry? She did have a knack for reading his mind.
He tightened his grip on the egg box and
blur, her mind pictured Dade entering the bedroom and leaning over
the bed. Slowly and tantalizingly he unbuttoned the shirt he’d lent
her, then pulled it back.
A raging hunger filled the pit of her stomach, spreading to her toes.
What were his thoughts as he gazed down at her? What would it feel
like when he touched her?
The fantasy seemed so real, maybe because she wanted so much for it
to happen. If Dade walked into the bedroom this minute, she couldn’t
refuse him.
I should not be thinking this. Sleeping in Dade’s bed has
to be the cause of these wild imaginings. Dade is my law partner, not
my sex partner. The hunger raging inside of me is actually that,
hunger. It’s seven o’clock. I haven’t eaten anything in a
while.
Time to forage. Julie swung her feet over the side of the bed. When
they touched the floor, the room spun crazily. She clutched the
mattress, waiting for everything to straighten out.
She must have gotten up too fast. Where were her slippers? Boy, she
was muddled. Of course, they weren’t here. They were in her
bedroom. She was in Dade’s. She had to wake up. She had to eat.
Then she’d feel right.
* * *
Julie had never had occasion to visit Dade’s condo alone. A few
years ago, after she’d moved out of Chicago to Arlingdale, he’d
relocated here from the old neighborhood so he could be close to the
office. She’d gotten a grand tour with the family then, but he’d
remodeled since.
As she stepped into the stylish yet practical kitchen, Julie smiled
with delight. Gleaming copper plates hung from black wrought iron
hangers. A trailing English ivy plant swung over the sink window
sill. A cooking grill was built into the counter-top.
What in other homes might be a recipe nook, instead was a repository
for sports magazines and a legal pad. That was Dade for you.
As she opened the steel door of the refrigerator and reached down for
the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf, the floor creaked.
Straightening, she turned.
What she saw made her eyes widen. Dade stood behind her with only a
wet towel slung around his waist.
She wasn’t the only one who worked out and went to pump classes.
Those abs of his could sell a million machines on TV. She tried to
look away, but couldn’t help noticing the dark curly hairs forming
a vee extending down to a point below his waist, an area barely
covered by the towel. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard.
Their eyes met. He looked hungry and not for food.
“Oh, hi,” she said brightly, ignoring the odd thumping of her
heart.
He backed away. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were up. I’ll get
dressed.”
Julie nodded dumbly. She could pretend what he was wearing didn’t
matter, but why fool herself. He looked way too inviting. She
couldn’t deal with that sort of thing now. She had enough on her
plate already.
She smiled. There she was, thinking in food metaphors. She better get
something to eat.
* * *
Safely clad in an armor of Dockers,polo
shirt and loafers, Dade stepped back into the kitchen. Julie was
standing exactly where he’d left her, in the middle of the floor,
holding the carton of eggs, looking dazed and charmingly helpless. He
didn’t see this side of her often, which made her all the more
appealing.
Her full lips, with the lipstick bitten off, were damn inviting, as
were her sinfully long legs. Breakfast would definitely be an
exercise in will power. Would he be up to it, in more ways than one?
“Okay, let’s get the grub going,” Dade said, determined to set
things back on an even keel.
She nodded absently.
“Here, let me take that.” He reached for the carton and connected
with her hand. A bolt of lightning shot from his palm up through his
arm. He almost dropped the eggs.
Her eyes met his then glanced away. Had she felt the collision of
chemistry? She did have a knack for reading his mind.
He tightened his grip on the egg box and
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