orgasm she had ever had. Which wasn't saying much actually. "I'm always good, but I think I'll pass this time."
"That's a shame. Perhaps another time." He glanced down at her feet again. His gaze felt physical, laser hot across her skin.
"To what do I owe the, um, pleasure of this visit?" she asked with a sarcastic tilt of her head.
"May I come in?"
Before she could say a word either way, he stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him.
Curiosity warred with irritation. If she wanted him to leave, he would. But now she wanted to know what his deal was. She harrumphed and led the way upstairs to the living room.
"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to her couch. She curled into the overstuffed chair facing it.
He shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it across the arm of the couch before sitting. Tonight his shirt was already unbuttoned, enough so that she could see a faint smattering of dark hair peeking through.
She was entranced by his chest hair. She shook her head clear. She was losing it.
As if he knew where her thoughts were focused, he undid another button on his shirt.
On purpose? She couldn't tell. Just in case, she grabbed one of Eve's cookies and stuffed it in her mouth to distract herself.
He grinned as if he knew her strategy. "I came over to see if you were busy on Saturday."
She choked. Patting her chest, she managed to swallow the rest of the cookie so she could croak, "For a date?"
"Of course not."
She frowned. Because he had a girlfriend, of course. But why was he asking her out? "Then what for?"
"For a friendly get together."
"A friendly get together?" she repeated incredulously.
"Yes. No kissing, but if you'd like to anticipate please feel free."
Her lips twitched against her will. "And if I say no?"
"It'll drive you mad not knowing what I had planned." He sat back and folded his arms behind his head.
Damn it, he was right. She hated that smug, know-it-all expression on his face. She'd wonder until she was batty with scenarios.
But he had a girlfriend, and he was a lawyer. "No."
He arched his brow. "I'm offering you adventure and you're turning it down?"
Her pulse spiked imagining the kind of adventure he'd take her on. She was positive her increased heart rate was due to the possibility of adventure, not simply because of him. "I'm turning it down."
"Another time then." Standing up, he picked up his coat.
Just like that? She gaped at him indignantly. He wasn't going to try harder?
Apparently not, because he headed downstairs. She followed mutely behind him, totally confused.
"So how is the ad coming along?" he asked as they reached the front door.
She blinked in surprise. "Um, okay."
"Anyone promising?"
Sure, if you were into freaks. She was still in debate over the transsexual. "I'm hoping something will work out."
He didn't bother to respond beyond a noncommittal grunt.
Freya reached for the doorknob when they got to the landing but was unable to open the door because Cavanaugh stood in the way. Close to her.
Too close. She wanted to inch away but forced herself to raise her chin and stand up to him. Even if her insides were quivering.
"One day you'll say yes to me," he said softly, twisting one of her curls around his finger.
She knew it was silly, but she swore she could feel his touch on every strand of hair. His breath caressed only her cheek, but for some reason her nipples reacted, jutting out shamelessly.
Weird. But promising. If Cavanaugh could get her to react this way, maybe the plan was working. Maybe everything would turn out okay.
"See you." He let go of the curl and shifted to let her open the door. Before she closed it again, he turned around and smiled—a smile that promised all manner of wicked things to come.
That's it . Her heart thudded erratically. She slammed the door, ran upstairs to her office, and turned the computer on. Opening Photoshop, she grabbed her stylus and quickly began sketching the vision she got for the Sin City site.
"That's a shame. Perhaps another time." He glanced down at her feet again. His gaze felt physical, laser hot across her skin.
"To what do I owe the, um, pleasure of this visit?" she asked with a sarcastic tilt of her head.
"May I come in?"
Before she could say a word either way, he stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him.
Curiosity warred with irritation. If she wanted him to leave, he would. But now she wanted to know what his deal was. She harrumphed and led the way upstairs to the living room.
"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to her couch. She curled into the overstuffed chair facing it.
He shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it across the arm of the couch before sitting. Tonight his shirt was already unbuttoned, enough so that she could see a faint smattering of dark hair peeking through.
She was entranced by his chest hair. She shook her head clear. She was losing it.
As if he knew where her thoughts were focused, he undid another button on his shirt.
On purpose? She couldn't tell. Just in case, she grabbed one of Eve's cookies and stuffed it in her mouth to distract herself.
He grinned as if he knew her strategy. "I came over to see if you were busy on Saturday."
She choked. Patting her chest, she managed to swallow the rest of the cookie so she could croak, "For a date?"
"Of course not."
She frowned. Because he had a girlfriend, of course. But why was he asking her out? "Then what for?"
"For a friendly get together."
"A friendly get together?" she repeated incredulously.
"Yes. No kissing, but if you'd like to anticipate please feel free."
Her lips twitched against her will. "And if I say no?"
"It'll drive you mad not knowing what I had planned." He sat back and folded his arms behind his head.
Damn it, he was right. She hated that smug, know-it-all expression on his face. She'd wonder until she was batty with scenarios.
But he had a girlfriend, and he was a lawyer. "No."
He arched his brow. "I'm offering you adventure and you're turning it down?"
Her pulse spiked imagining the kind of adventure he'd take her on. She was positive her increased heart rate was due to the possibility of adventure, not simply because of him. "I'm turning it down."
"Another time then." Standing up, he picked up his coat.
Just like that? She gaped at him indignantly. He wasn't going to try harder?
Apparently not, because he headed downstairs. She followed mutely behind him, totally confused.
"So how is the ad coming along?" he asked as they reached the front door.
She blinked in surprise. "Um, okay."
"Anyone promising?"
Sure, if you were into freaks. She was still in debate over the transsexual. "I'm hoping something will work out."
He didn't bother to respond beyond a noncommittal grunt.
Freya reached for the doorknob when they got to the landing but was unable to open the door because Cavanaugh stood in the way. Close to her.
Too close. She wanted to inch away but forced herself to raise her chin and stand up to him. Even if her insides were quivering.
"One day you'll say yes to me," he said softly, twisting one of her curls around his finger.
She knew it was silly, but she swore she could feel his touch on every strand of hair. His breath caressed only her cheek, but for some reason her nipples reacted, jutting out shamelessly.
Weird. But promising. If Cavanaugh could get her to react this way, maybe the plan was working. Maybe everything would turn out okay.
"See you." He let go of the curl and shifted to let her open the door. Before she closed it again, he turned around and smiled—a smile that promised all manner of wicked things to come.
That's it . Her heart thudded erratically. She slammed the door, ran upstairs to her office, and turned the computer on. Opening Photoshop, she grabbed her stylus and quickly began sketching the vision she got for the Sin City site.
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