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taut skin on her stomach. She gasped as his hand moved to her zipper, drawing it open and pushing the soft denim down her legs until she kicked off her heels and stepped out of the jeans.
    He watched as she stood there, her thighs pressed together and her hands fluttering by her sides. “I want to remember this picture for a long time.”
    A smile twitched on her lips. Her nails—lacquered red—caught the light of the lamp beside him.
    “Don’t take too long. I might lose my nerve.” She held out her hand and he took it, running his thumb over each ridge of her knuckles in turn. He brought it to his lips and kissed her gently. “No one is going to come in here… Are they?”
    “You’re safe with me, Gracie Greene.” He let go of her hand. “Undress for me.”
    Her hands came to the shirt button at her collarbone. She carefully pushed the small pearl through its loop. With each button opened, an inch more of her was exposed. Watching the slow reveal of her breasts was the most on edge Des had ever been. His breathing was shallow, his pulse hammering a staccato beat in his chest.
    As the refined cream lace of her bra was exposed, Des reached out to run his fingertips along the scalloped edge. “Beautiful.”
    He’d never been so in awe of a woman before, yet there was something special about the way Gracie was showing herself to him. She was entrusting him with her body and it was something sacred.
    With every ounce of control exhausted, Des pulled Gracie to him and sought her mouth with a burning intensity. As his tongue met hers she sighed against him, her hands threading through his hair and tugging. She tasted of peaches, her teeth nipping at his lower lip between kisses.
    Hooking his fingers into the soft cup of her bra, he dragged the fabric down so her breast sprang free. It was perfect; round, pert, and more than enough to spill over his palm. He brushed the hard bud of her nipple with the pad of his thumb, delighting in the husky moan that escaped her lips. Her breath was hot against his cheek and he rolled the bud gently—tweaking, tugging, and flicking at a leisurely pace.
    She pressed herself against him, grinding into his parted legs so that his erection strained harder against the fly of his jeans. He wanted her badly, he wanted to throw her down on his desk and make her cry out his name. Except there was the small problem of the hundred plus people on the other side of the office door.
    He pushed the worry from his mind. With Gracie’s curves beneath his hands he didn’t want to think about anything else, about anyone else. He drew her nipple between his lips, scraping the hardened peak gently with his teeth. She gasped, her knees wobbling. Des clamped his thighs around her so she was supported while her head rolled back, her hair tumbling over her shoulders.
    “Touch me, Des.” She drew his hand to the wisp of cream lace that concealed her most sacred part. “Please.”
    A thump on the door broke them apart and Gracie clamped a hand over her mouth.
    “Des?” the young, male voice on the other side of the door sounded wary. “You still in there?”
    “What is it?” Des growled as he pushed up from the desk and went to the door without opening it. “Can’t it wait? I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
    “Sorry man, I don’t think it can.”
    Des opened the door only enough so that he could shield the office with his body.
    “There’s a problem with one of the customers.” His trainee barman’s face was pinched and two men exchanged words on the other side of the bar. “How could you not hear them?”
    “Where’s Paul?” Des scanned the bar. His brother was nowhere to be found.
    The young barman shrugged. “There was a blond girl…”
    He sighed. “I’ll take care of it.”
    Fuck.

Chapter Six
    Gracie stood in the middle of Des Chapman’s office in her underwear, with god knows how many people on the other side of a flimsy wall, and she hadn’t had a single drink.