After Hours. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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zero social skills. She’d never given that angle much thought because conversation hadn’t been part of her fantasy.
“I hope I didn’t startle you too much,” she continued, thinking that eventually he’d have to utter more than two words or this fantasy would never get off the ground.
“You did startle me.” He got to his feet, picked up the cordless screwdriver and laid it on the receptionist’s desk. “But not for the reason you think.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Yet she was very glad that he could form complete sentences when he chose to.
“I was just thinking about—” He paused and shook his head. “Never mind. Look, if I’m interrupting your work, I can come back in a couple of—”
“Tell me what you were thinking about.” She had a hunch it would lead to something good.
“You’re going to think it’s a line. And I don’t do lines.”
Now she definitely had to hear what he’d been about to say. “Try me.”
He eyed her for a moment. “Okay. It just so happens that while I was working just now, I was picturing my ideal woman.”
It did sound like a pickup line, but somehow she didn’t think he meant it that way. Her mouth grew moist with anticipation. “I look something like your ideal woman?”
“Except that your hair is up like that, yes, you look exactly like her.”
Without giving herself any time to think, she reached up and pulled out the two tortoiseshell combs holding her hair in place.
He drew in a quick breath. “Why did you do that?”
She paused for a beat and held his gaze. “Because while I was in there working, I was thinking about my ideal man.”
“That’s hard to believe.” But he looked very much like he wanted to believe it.
“It’s true.”
He shifted his weight. “Are you saying that I…”
“Yes.” Amazing how the simple act of taking her hair down aroused her, just as it seemed to be arousing him. The gesture felt more intimate than stripping naked.
“So we were each thinking the same thing at the same time.”
“Looks that way.” She trembled as she contemplated the next step. She would have to be the aggressor. As the employee of a company licensed and bonded to work inside corporate offices like Traynor and Sizemore, he wouldn’t dare step out of line unless she made him feel completely safe.
“Ideals don’t truly exist in the real world,” she said.
“Don’t try to tell me this isn’t real. And I’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming,” he said with a crooked grin.
“This moment may be real. But our view of each other is likely skewed right now. We may seem to fit each other’s ideal, but I’m sure neither of us is close to perfect.”
“I’d never claim to be perfect. No human is—even you, I suppose.” He grinned again. “But I still say you look a lot like the picture I’ve been carrying around in my head.”
“I could say the same about you.” She responded to everything about him—the sound of his voice, the scent of his aftershave, the subtle gestures he made with his hands. And he reacted to her, too. She could see it in his eyes and the flare of his nostrils.
“Look, we both have work to do,” he said. “What if we go back to it, and when we’re finished, we can go out, have a drink and find out a little more about each—”
“No.”
He appeared taken aback for a moment. Then his gaze sharpened. “You’re married.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She was grateful for legal training that had taught her how to present her case. “If we go out for a drink, if we take this in a conventional direction, we’ll lose the chance to create something extraordinary right now.”
He stared at her, his throat moving in a swallow. “Are you talking about what I think you are?”
She sensed tension, but excitement shone in his eyes, too. “Just so you know, I’ve never done anything like this in my life.”
He continued to stare at her.
The trick would be convincing him she could be trusted, when he had no reason to believe that. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. If anybody found out about it, you’d be fired. Worse than fired. But I promise you, no one will find out. This is between you and me. I could get in a lot of trouble, too, you know.”
“Not as much as I could.” He sighed and shook his head. Then he chuckled softly. “I have to admit, for a second there I was considering it. Never mind that you’re a lawyer who would know all about how to sue me six ways to Sunday. Never mind that everything I’ve worked for could go right down the tubes.” His green eyes blazed. “Idiot that I am, I was still thinking about it.”
Her body responded to his admission, throbbing with pent-up needs. Her mind recognized that she still had a shot. “Think about it some more.”
He shook his head. “Way too dangerous.”
“What if I told you that for years I’ve had a fantasy of making it with a stranger? I’m not a flake. My semi-serious boyfriend has asked me to move in with him, and I plan to do that. But before I make that kind of commitment, I want to—”
“This semi-serious boyfriend—where is he?”
“Temporarily in Switzerland on business.”
“I suppose he’s also a lawyer?”
“Does it matter?”
He laughed. “Hell, yes, it matters. Getting beat up by a jealous boyfriend is one thing. Being hauled into court and deprived of a huge hunk of money is something else again, not to mention the damage to my reputation. You’re asking me to run a big risk, just for—”
“For an unforgettable experience.” She built on her knowledge that he’d been daydreaming about his ideal woman. A man who did that probably had a fantasy life. “Don’t tell me you’ve never imagined something like this.”
“That’s not the point. Fantasy’s one thing, reality is another.”
“It’s exactly the point. Both of us have a chance to act out a fantasy, with no repercussions. That chance doesn’t come along every day.”
There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes, but still he shook his head.
“If you don’t take advantage of this, you’ll regret it forever.” She certainly would. She couldn’t imagine a better setup than this one to satisfy her craving for anonymous sex.
“So all you want from me is—”
“This moment. I’ve already found Mr. Right, and he’s away in Switzerland for a few days. I’m asking you to be Mr. Right Now.” The situation made her bold, and she slid her gaze down to the telling bulge below his tool belt. At least she’d scored that much of a victory.
In the art of persuasion, timing was everything. Sometimes, you had to stop talking and give your words a chance to take effect. “It’s up to you,” she said. “If you’re interested, I’ll be in my office.” Then she turned slowly and walked down the hall, issuing a silent invitation with every sway of her hips.
2
SHANE’S HEAD FIZZED and popped as he watched her leave. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, phone installers liked to spin stories about sex-hungry women lying in wait for them at the job site, but most of the time