Tanya Michaels - Sheer Decadence

Instead of also leaving now that his admirers had gone, Justin leaned against the counter. She watched the microwave, willing it to beep. Thursday, when she’d be trapped in the car with him, was plenty soon enough to be alone with him. She pondered the possibility of his becoming less sexy between now and then. Was there a polite, logical way to insist he didn’t wear black?

Probably not.

TRYING NOT TO BE too obvious, Justin studied his beautiful co-worker. Her gray eyes were frosty today, with no hint of the molten silver desire he’d seen—and felt—yesterday in her office. He wanted to cajole her into a more receptive mood, to prove the woman he’d seen glimpses of was in there somewhere.

“How’s your day going, Liv?” He assumed she went by the office nickname, but, personally, he didn’t think it suited her.

The more lyrical Olivia fit perfectly—as did the navy turtleneck and long tailored skirt she wore. There was a sexy contrast between how little skin was revealed and how boldly the lush curves of her body were delineated. Stopping short of a noticeable leer, he discreetly traced those curves with his gaze, wishing it were with his hands instead.

“Fine.” She dipped her tea bag in her mug. “Busy.”

Not a woman of many words.

Licking her lips, she took a step forward to go around him. “I should be getting back to my office.”

The scent of her light floral perfume and the warmer fragrance of her body wafted over him. “You smell incredible.”

She froze, spine rigid, her only movement the now double-time dunking of her tea. If he didn’t know better, he’d say her expression was hurt. He was willing to admit that yesterday, when he’d commented on her figure, his words had come out wrong, but now he could only conclude that the lady didn’t take flattery well. She ducked her head, and her long wavy hair fell over her shoulder in a dark curtain, partially obscuring her face.

“I meant it in the complimentary sense,” he said.

“Yes. I know.”

“I thought women liked it when men notice personal details and comment.”

“Maybe some do.” She looked up then, her eyes steely. “Personally, I’ve had my fill of handsome charmers with ulterior motives.”

“Now hold on a second.” Noticing the way her skirt hugged her tight perfect derriere wasn’t a motive. He’d get back to that handsome and charming part later. “I—”

“I apologize.” She exhaled, her shoulders rounding. “You said something kind, and I was rude.”

More defensive than rude, and her eyes reflected a vulnerability that seemed an odd reaction to a comment on her perfume.

Justin told himself to end this exchange and forget it ever happened. After the responsibilities of the last few years, responsibilities that unofficially ended tomorrow night, he’d earned the right to uncomplicated fun. Olivia’s changing moods and mixed signals screamed complications.

A man with any brains would ask Diane out when he got back from South Carolina. He’d been caught off guard by Kate’s dinner invitation and reflexively said yes, but she seemed like a sweet kid who needed an equally sweet boyfriend. Justin was looking for something a little less lasting—simple, clear-cut, adult enjoyment.

He looked into Olivia’s soft gray eyes, and desire tightened his body. Too bad he didn’t think the offer of no-strings fun would appeal to her.

“Maybe I should be the one apologizing,” he said, “if my remarks were too personal for the workplace.”

“No, I overreacted. I’ve been…never mind. Maybe you really are a nice guy.”

“Just ‘maybe’?” he teased, giving her a look of mock-indignation.

She laughed, and the husky sound affected him even more viscerally than when he’d overheard it yesterday, because this time he’d won it from her. Her open, welcoming expression was unexpected and transformed her from attractive to so sexy his breath caught.

He held the door open, and as she passed by, she tossed one last smile over her shoulder. “I really am sorry if I’ve been curt. I’m glad we’re going to be working together, Justin.”

So was he. Particularly if he got to work with this Olivia, not the one behind the guarded mask. He’d just have to see what he could do to keep this Olivia around more often.

WEDNESDAY EVENING, long after the daily noise of the office had dropped to just a few remaining employees shutting down their computers, Jeanie poked her head through the doorway to Olivia’s office. “I’m about to take off.”

Olivia waggled her fingers in a half wave. “See you tomorrow.” Unfortunately. No sunny Kaokara for her.

The blonde hovered indecisively, fidgeting until Olivia finally asked, “Something else I can do for you?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner with us? Albert’s brother is very nice.”

“Thanks anyway, but I’m just going to head home.”

Having made one last failed effort at the double date, Jeanie nodded. The other woman was gone before Olivia could admit anything stupid—such as, she’d be a lousy dinner date with Justin Hawthorne on her mind.

Could he really be the exception womankind hoped for, the stunningly sexy man who was still a nice guy? After their brief interlude in the breakroom yesterday, she’d chided herself for having painted him with the same brush as Sean just because he was good-looking. So he and Kate were having dinner sometime after the shoot, that was hardly grounds for labeling him Womanizer of the Year.

Her stomach growled, turning her thoughts from Justin’s future dinner plans to her own immediate ones. She gathered her belongings and took the elevator down to her car, looking forward to food and a relaxing bath. About halfway to her apartment, however, she realized that she’d finished off her emergency store of groceries the night before. The sole contents of her fridge were wilted lettuce and half-empty condiment bottles of everything from lime juice to Worcestershire sauce.

Deli takeout it is, then.

By the time she pulled into a parking garage close to her favorite downtown delicatessen, she was starving. She hurried across the sidewalk, her trench coat not completely protecting her from the crisp evening air. As she waited at the intersection for oncoming traffic to stop, she shot an envious sidelong glance toward the expensive four-star restaurant on the corner.

Lacking an occasion big enough to justify the price tag, she’d never dined there. Now, she unconsciously pressed a hand to her empty stomach and fantasized about the meals lucky patrons were enjoying inside. She covertly studied the candlelit booths on the other side of the thick glass window and tried not to feel too much like a gastronomical Peeping Tom.

Justin.

Her jaw dropped as she did a double take. Yes, that was definitely Justin Hawthorne inside.

Aware she was staring openly, Olivia snapped her gaze to the blinking red upraised hand across the street. But a quick glance back showed Justin hadn’t noticed her. His attention was fully devoted to the beautiful blonde seated across from him, a slim young woman in a little black dress.

The blonde reached across the table for Justin’s hand, and anger churned in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. She’d rescheduled her vacation for a dinner date! She should be in South Carolina tonight and en route to her vacation Friday, but Justin had ruined that with his “emergency.”

The sign on the other side of the crosswalk finally changed, flashing the picture of a stick-figure pedestrian, and she marched forward, fuming. She wasn’t an unreasonable woman. If tonight’s date had been, for instance, an anniversary or a marriage proposal, she could’ve understood. But if the blonde was a serious girlfriend, what was he doing flirting with Diane and making dinner plans with Kate?