Going Down

Going Down? ISBN 9781419914409 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Going Down? Copyright © 2008 Téa Trelawny Prologue “Drat!” Peering through the beveled glass panes on the front door, Fancy Mitzki frowned. The elevator repairman parked his van just outside the entrance of her elegant old Manhattan high-rise. “Trust him to be early when I’ve so many couples to match,” she muttered. “Tonight of all nights!” Whipping around, gloved hands aflutter, Fancy whooshed across the carpet toward the main elevator. The elderly doorman, Leo Stutz, strolled into her path, unaware of her approach. “It’s just a draft, my lad,” she called as she brushed past him in a rush. Glancing back, she saw Leo shudder as her cold wake washed over him. “At least I didn’t go through you. You’d have felt a real chill then!” The grizzled doorman hugged his arms over his uniformed chest. Fancy kept moving. She needed to work fast. It was St. Valentine’s Day, after all, and she needed five more couples.

If I get them, I’ll be with my Hiram tonight, she thought. Excitement lent her speed as she passed through the closed elevator doors and shot up into the dark shaft. ***** “Well, Miss Fancy.” Standing on the curb, Jake Christian looked up at the old high-rise. Snowflakes drifted downward, streetlights casting them in silver against the red brick of the building. “Who are you fixin’ up tonight?” With a very personal hope rising, he stepped behind his work van and unlocked the back door. The February wind flapped at his old Navy coat—a hand-me-down from his granddad—as he lifted his tool box out of the van and then secured the vehicle. The cold didn’t bother him so he pushed his leather driving cap back on his head. If anything, he felt downright warm this snowy night. Warm and optimistic. In these last hours of St. Valentine’s Day, anything could happen. Especially with this service call. Hefting his tool box, he approached the old building that had been built by the early twentieth-century philanthropist Fancy Mitzki. Already in her twenties, married and a mother at the turn of that century, Miss Fancy had quickly gained a reputation around town for her talent as a matchmaker. Legend said that, since her death fifty years ago tonight, her special skill at making romantic alliances continued to work through the central elevator. Many a couple had hooked up while stuck in that old lift. Several swore they’d seen the black-garbed, bespectacled old woman or experienced the chill of her presence while being trapped together. A second generation Irish-American, Jake believed in ghosts as much as he believed in leprechauns and fairies. His grandmother had entertained him with stories of personal experiences from her youth in Ireland and he’d seen a few strange things himself in his lifetime. As far as he was concerned, Fancy Mitzki haunting an elevator in this old building hardly qualified as paranormal. In fact, he half hoped the late matchmaker would work her magic on a certain raven-haired beauty who owned the building…namely Miss Fancy’s great-great-great-great-granddaughter, Sophia. Blood rushed south every time he thought about Sophia—and he thought about her almost all the time. Which left him a bit light-headed by the end of a long day. He grinned and twitched one leg to shift his growing package. A light head and tight britches were acceptable side effects to almost constant arousal. But he was ready to move things forward, physically and emotionally. Along with her full helping of sexuality, Sophia Mitzki possessed beauty, brains and attitude. Jake appreciated the old elevator’s frequent breakdowns as opportunities to see her. In fact he was often tempted to give matters a hand by chucking his wrench into the elevator works. But with Sophia’s temper, doing that would more likely get him fired than laid. Not that getting laid was his primary objective. Although he certainly wanted to bed Sophia Mitzki, his lust had developed into something deeper in recent months. Something he hoped St. Valentine’s Day—and Miss Fancy—might help him nurture. Jake’s stomach growled as he headed around the building toward the service entrance. If he didn’t get too dirty working on the elevator, he might grab a bite at Matchmaker’s, the first floor nightclub, when he finished checking out the elevator. And maybe while he was there he’d get the chance to nibble on something—or a certain someone—else.

Chapter One Kelly Flynn limped down the lush carpet lining the tenth floor corridor. She tried not to cry. Her rent was overdue. She was flunking her business management class. This dang tray of glasses weighed a ton and her feet were absolutely killing her. That’s the last time I buy shoes over the internet. She looked down. Her black stiletto-heeled pumps certainly looked sexy. But they lacked arch support, leaving the curves of her feet screaming as if they’d been stretched on tiny, imported, all-leather-upper torture racks. It might’ve saved her time to do a little online shopping in the middle of the night. Now what looked like a good deal at the time proved to be anything but. Balancing the serving tray in both hands, she tried not to wobble as she walked. She didn’t want to drop the glasses she’d picked up from the penthouse apartment behind her. Being charged-back for broken wineglasses would be the last straw—especially since tonight’s tips added up to an amount just short of pathetic. One guy even left her a condom—still in the package, thank God! Reaching the elevator, she pressed the down call button with her elbow. Relief shot through her when the etched glass and mahogany doors immediately slid open. “Thanks, Miss Fancy,” she murmured as she entered the lift. Using her elbow again, she pressed the polished brass button for the ground floor. She intended to return these glasses to the club, change out of her uniform and then head home to study. If the bus ran on time she could hit the books for an hour while indulging herself in a warm foot soak. Only such multitasking would save her business degree and her feet. The elevator doors closed and the ancient gears groaned into action. She looked at the small bench seat that spanned the back wall and wondered if she dared risk sitting down for the descent. Miss Fancy, as some tenants called the elevator, could take a full minute to go down those ten floors even if it didn’t stop along the way. One night Kelly had spent nearly ten minutes in the old lift, stopping on every other floor to pick up passengers. With her to-do list growing longer by the minute, she hoped that didn’t happen tonight. She hoped too, that the elevator didn’t get stuck, as it occasionally did. Kelly shivered as a draft swept over her. Damn, it’s cold in here. She wanted to hug herself for warmth but couldn’t with the tray of glasses in her hands. She glanced over her shoulder. The rich burgundy velvet of the bench beckoned her tush and her feet prickled as she considered the respite. Weariness rolled over her. She wished she could just forget about everything tonight. Just indulge herself for once…in something more pleasant than a foot soak. At the very least, she ought to sit down and rest her feet. But Sophia Mitzki expected her hostesses to maintain proper decorum at all times. Getting caught sitting down on the job by a building tenant wouldn’t look good. Besides, if she did sit, her bone-deep weariness might not let her get up again. Momentum. Keep moving. Don’t stop until you get everything done. She wobbled her knees in impatience. “Come on,” she muttered to the pokey elevator. But more than her feet or money or time problems fed her edginess tonight. Something more than weariness too and she suspected she knew what. She needed to let loose. She needed to do something wild, something impulsive. But that went against her nature. Stick to the job, focus on the future, do all that’s possible to reach the goal. Letting loose could come later.

So she faced the doors and tried to ignore the fire in her feet and the tension in her shoulders. Maybe no one on the floors between her and the ground would call the elevator and slow its descent. Her hope died a quick death when the elevator bell dinged on the eighth floor. The car groaned to a halt, echoing Kelly’s groan of frustration. A long moment passed while the car settled into place and then the doors slid open to reveal the one man in the world who could make Kelly’s body ding too. And ding it did. Enough to make her forget even her aching feet. Connor Latimer looked her in the eye and grinned. “Hello, Kelly.” As he stepped into the elevator, his warmth surrounded her, driving away her unnatural chill, along with her weariness. Suddenly she swelled with energy and her imagination took flight. Most days she was too busy to think. But at times—especially late at night—Connor slipped into her mind. Mental scenarios hot with sex or warm with affection—her fantasies often invaded her dreams, leaving her lonely—and horny—upon waking. At this particular moment, she certainly felt hornier than lonely. “Hello,” she managed to say. “Going down?” His eyes—the lazy blue of an evening sky—took on a gleam she’d never seen in them. “I’d like to,” he answered, his voice a shade raspy as his gaze moved down her body. Kelly blinked. Was that a sexual innuendo? Surely not from him. But at the possibility, the ding inside her body became something deeper. Something that throbbed in a way that she experienced only around him. She’d first experienced that throbbing when she’d met him on the night she started working at Matchmaker’s. His dreamy blue eyes and sexy mouth drew her attention right away. His body made him hard to resist. He had the physique of a swimmer, lean and muscular, and he knew how to pick out a sweater and jeans. He sure knew how to fill them out. But, more than a physically attractive man, Connor practiced a kindness that Kelly rarely found in her life. His manners soothed like a cool spring in an unforgiving desert. Kelly wanted nothing more than to lap him up. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen the thought reflected there. Of course she could never act on her attraction to him. He was a business tenant and she worked here. According to Sophia Mitzki’s rules, that made him off-limits. That was also one of Kelly’s personal rules. What did some of the business guys say? No drinking from the company trough or something crude like that? Besides, her busy life left no time for romance. Two jobs and two college classes left no time for dates. And the other cocktail waitresses said that Connor had finalized a messy divorce a year or so earlier. Despite Sophia’s rule, several of them tried to entice him but no one had yet lured him back into the dating pool. Her gaze darted up to his handsome face and then stroked down his lean, sexy body again. What a waste. Connor pressed the first floor button and the elevator doors closed. As the car began its slow descent, its lush confines suddenly became intimate to Kelly. The light from gilded glass sconces fell gently around them, reflecting off the glass and mahogany doors. Connor stood near enough for her to sense his warmth down the left side of her body. It seeped through her clothes and her flesh to settle into her bones, making her feel limber and loose and yet totally energized. She’d never experienced such intensity of arousal. The tender heat reminded her just how long

she’d been ignoring her own needs. “Do you need help with that tray?” he asked. “It looks heavy.” “I’ve got it.” Finding it difficult to talk, she barely breathed out the words. “But thanks.” “You coming down from the Mitzki place?” Kelly recovered her poise slowly. “Sophia’s brother had another party.” His mouth, so wonderfully shaped, curled up at one corner. “Isn’t that the third this week? I don’t envy you working that kind of gig.” “Well, he is a big-time rock star with a new album out.” Kelly returned Connor’s smile, appreciating the fact that he understood what she’d suffered through for the past few hours. Every tenant in the building knew that Alex Mitzki could throw a wild party. She still didn’t know how she’d escaped tonight without at least a pinched bottom or some drunk’s tongue in her ear. And at only nine-thirty, things hadn’t even gotten rolling up there yet. But—with the exception of this party—the tips were usually pretty good. Her eyes slid toward Connor. Now if he tried to pinch her bottom she doubted that she’d protest much. And if those pinching fingers migrated northward… Her nipples tightened as she thought of his hands twisting and tugging them. And if he wanted to use that sexy mouth and tongue… Oh, it had been a long time since she’d felt a man’s touch. The last of Kelly’s weariness vanished. She practically hummed with energy. If only she had more than the time the elevator would take to complete its descent, she might act on the energy sweeping through her. Who are you kidding? She fixed her attention on the creeping arrow above the elevator doors. There were so many reasons not to act on her fantasies about Connor. Even if she did have the time, her unexpectedly intense sexual energy was probably not enough to tackle such a tough project as he’d would prove to be. According to rumors, he’d resisted the seductive attempts of every woman who’d tried him. And even if he did go along with the fantasies in which she often indulged herself, she was not interested in one-night stands. Sex with no relationship didn’t appeal to her. It never had. Besides how can I think about sex when my soles are on fire? “Are you heading down to the club?” Kelly asked when the silence had stretched out too long. “No. I’m going out for a hand massage.” He wriggled his fingers in the air. “They’re tight tonight.” Puzzled, Kelly looked at his hands. “Aren’t you a masseur, yourself?” Connor laughed. “No, I’m a reflexologist. I work the pressure points of the body. My hands get stiff after a long day so sometimes I go to the nail salon down the street for a massage. I’d do it myself but it feels better if someone else does it.” “But it’s nearly ten o’clock.” “I don’t usually get to bed this early anyway. Sleep…” Looking down at his shoes, he scuffed one against the carpet. “Well, it’s not a thing I find easy these days.” That bit of information intrigued her. Kelly shifted her weight from one aching foot to the other. “I just meant that the nail salon is probably closed.” “Mrs. Chang lets me in after hours. We share a pot of green tea and ginger snaps.” He lifted one shoulder. “She can’t sleep this early, either and she appreciates the company. I enjoy spending time with her too. She’s an interesting person.”

His kindness touched her. Since her parents had died Kelly hadn’t seen much kindness. Foster care, then released into a world she wasn’t ready for…she was so tired of fighting her way through life. Tired of struggling. But giving up was no option. “Mrs. Chang…isn’t she that tiny old woman who always wears a big plastic sunflower in her hair?” “That’s her. One of her grandkids bought it for her.” He grinned again. “She never goes anywhere without it.” “I wouldn’t think she’d have enough strength to massage a man’s hands.” She looked at his thick fingers. Especially yours. He laughed. “You’d be surprised. Once she gets her thumbs moving, she can really dig into sore muscles.” “I could use her thumbs on my feet tonight.” Kelly eyed the slowly moving arrow above the doors and tried to ignore the quiver his laugh had set off inside her. “I’ve been on these puppies since six o’clock this morning.” “You work two jobs, don’t you? Here and at Macy’s?” Kelly blinked again, this time in surprise that he knew about her other job. “That’s right.” His cheeks turned a little pink and he tucked his fingertips inside the front pockets of his jeans. “One of the other hostesses must’ve mentioned it.” Kelly nodded, surprised once more by his embarrassment. Surprised and intrigued enough to experience a flush of her own—and it wasn’t in her cheeks. No, this flush started deep inside. “I’m at Macy’s six days a week,” she explained, trying to distract herself. Too much more of this arousal and she’d drop the tray and throw herself at him in spite of all her reasons to resist. “Here three nights and in class two nights plus Saturday mornings.” He loosed a quiet whistle. “No wonder you’re always on the move. Those are rough hours.” Kelly shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” Connor looked down at her feet and shook his head. “Those shoes must be killing you.” “But they make my legs look as sexy as hell,” she quipped. Those dreamy blue eyes rose to meet hers. “They sure do.” This time, her flush warmed Kelly from the roots of her reddish-blonde hair down to the tips of her raw toes. And what happened inside when his eyes shifted slowly back downward, traveling along her body at an almost leisurely place…his study of her heated her blood until it ran like hot rivers and excitement pooled deep in her womb. Recovering from a painful divorce or not, Connor was apparently a man who liked to look. If only I had the time to find out if he likes to touch too. She stared down at the floor. But it doesn’t matter. He’s off-limits. Remember, he’s one of Sophia’s tenants. “Well,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I’m looking forward to getting home and getting off them.” Another chilly draft swept away the warmth of her flush. In the next instant, the elevator shuddered to a halt. Kelly, unbalanced by her spiked heels and the heavy tray, wobbled sideways. Catching her around the waist, Connor stepped behind her and tugged her back against his chest to keep her from falling. His body formed a steady wall behind her. A hard wall that cushioned her from her shoulder blades to the back of her thighs. As the glasses clanked together on the tray, wet heat gathered between Kelly’s legs.

Connor’s hands held firm on her waist. “I’ve got you,” he said, his breath brushing her right cheek. Taller than she by only about half a head, his lips hovered mere inches from her own. She needed only to turn her head fractionally— His fingers tightened on her waist and she could’ve sworn he held her closer. But that couldn’t be possible. The man wasn’t interested in getting to know any woman. All the girls downstairs said so. But he didn’t move away and she felt his heart pounding hard and fast against her back. She felt something else too. Something large and hard and throbbing against one of her butt cheeks. It has been a year or more since his divorce. Maybe he’s as hard-up as I am. At that idea, Kelly found it hard to breathe. She certainly couldn’t speak. The idea of Connor Latimer being sexually interested in her caused every muscle in her body to stiffen. “You all right?” he asked, his voice taking on a throaty hesitance that made even thinking difficult for her. Slowly, she nodded again. “Let me take that.” His hands left her waist. But instead of stepping around her, he lifted his hands on each side of her body and took the tray from her. Kelly was caught between him and the tray of glasses, in an intimate embrace that sent another river of heat shooting up and down her spine. As he took its weight, she released her grip on the tray, knowing that her shaking hands were the source of the new rattling of the glasses. He carefully lifted the tray above her head. As he did so, his chest pressed against her shoulder blades and his firm biceps stroked up the outside of her upper arms. Kelly held her breath, unsure which way he would move. She nearly gasped when his right thigh bumped hers as he stepped to the side. That movement drove that harder, more interesting part of his body deeper into her flesh. Then, moving away, he bent over and set the tray on the elevator floor. If breathing was difficult before, it proved almost impossible now. To keep from passing out due to lack of oxygen, Kelly took advantage of the moment to step forward. She needed to put some distance between herself and Connor. She needed to get control of herself before she forgot about her job and her pride and her busy schedule and threw him down on the floor to have her way with him. But she couldn’t move far within the close confines of the car. And when she glanced over her shoulder, the view of his backside as his gray jeans pulled tight across his ass didn’t help change the wicked pathway her thoughts followed, either. Connor straightened, flashed a smile at her and then turned toward the elevator control panel. “I’ll just call for help,” he said, his voice maintaining that whisky-rough quality that shook her to her core. He opened a brass door in the control panel and lifted the service telephone from the cubbyhole inside. After a couple of seconds, he said, “Hi, this is Connor Latimer in the Mitzki Building on Seventh Avenue. A couple of us are stuck in an elevator here.” He paused to listen and to toss another smile back at Kelly. “It would’ve been nice to know there was a problem before we got on. How long will it take to fix?” Kelly clasped her hands behind her back and eyed the upholstered bench. She half-hoped they would be stuck here for a while. She could sit down, prop up her aching feet and—she glanced back at Connor—just maybe… No, no, no! Tenant! Off-limits! The mantra practically screamed inside her head.

“Okay, thanks.” He hung up the phone and turned toward her, lifting his empty hands. “Looks like the elevator has been acting up for about an hour.” Kelly finally managed to form her thoughts into words. “Someone should’ve put an out-of-order sign on it.” “The repairman arrived just a few minutes ago and he put a sign on the doors downstairs.” “While I was up in the penthouse.” “Apparently he hadn’t managed to post signs on the other floors yet.” Worried about the stability of her knees in her present situation, Kelly made a decision. “Well, after a nine-hour shift at Macy’s and the last four hours here, I’m sitting down.” Kelly walked to the bench and sank onto the upholstered seat. Swinging sideways, she lifted her feet onto the cushion and heaved a sigh of relief at the release of pressure on the balls of her feet. “How long do we have to wait?” “The guy on the phone said he’d contact the repairman and get a status. He’ll call us when he knows something.” “So, it could be a couple of minutes or a couple of hours.” Connor grinned. “You didn’t bring a deck of cards, did you?” Kelly ran her hands over the nearly empty pockets of her short black skirt…empty but for a few bucks and a condom. “Left them in my other clothes,” she answered, realizing that at least she was well-equipped for whatever might happen in this elevator. Tenant. Off-limits. She noticed the voice inside her head lacked much of its former insistence. Connor’s gaze followed the movement of her hands and his eyes brightened. Looking down, she saw how high up her thighs the skirt rode when she sat down. Her first instinct said to tug the hem lower. But she found herself intrigued by what looked more and more like attraction on his part. Intrigued and challenged. And what was her life, after all, but one challenge after another? Even if nothing came of it, what harm could there be in a little flirting with a man who was allegedly immune to flirting? And if I’m lucky, I’ll find out he’s not as immune as the other hostesses think he is. After all, he’s been divorced for a year. Most men would be more than eager for sex by now. And I have a condom. Kelly just resisted squirming on the seat. By the reaction of her body to his presence right now, she realized she was pretty eager for some sex too. That explained some of the edginess she’d experienced lately. After all, she hadn’t been laid in a long time. But she didn’t want to bed some guy one time and then have to face him in the elevator several times a week. How uncomfortable would that be? And she needed to think about her job. Sophia certainly wouldn’t like to hear about one of her hostesses seducing a tenant. But she doesn’t have to hear about it, does she? Kelly was stunned by the temptation she felt not only to go against her employer’s rule but against her own creed as well. Still, how often did a chance like this come along? And the odds of Sophia finding out were pretty slim. Connor certainly didn’t seem like the kind of guy to kiss and tell. “I guess you have to relax now,” Connor said, disturbing her internal debate. She wriggled her toes. She worried that she might blow apart any second. “With my schedule, I think I’ve forgotten how to relax.” “But it could be so good for you.”

Noting the odd way he’d phrased that sentence—not sure suddenly that she could bear the disappointment of being turned down if she did summon the nerve to make a move on him—she took a deep breath and then quickly asked, “So, what exactly is a reflexologist?” “Why don’t you take off your shoes and I’ll show you?” He flexed his fingers. Watching the movement of his hands, practically salivating at the idea of him touching her aching feet, Kelly made a quick decision not to resist his offer. He just wanted to rub her feet for her. No matter what level of attraction she experienced, it wasn’t like they were going to have sex in the elevator. But you could, ’cause you’ve got a condom. She slid her trembling fingers down her legs, past her knees and along her calves to her ankles. Connor’s eyes followed her movement and suddenly her mouth wasn’t the only part of her salivating. The inner walls of her vagina went even slicker. Her nipples tightened again beneath her silk shirt and leather vest. Slowly, aware of his attention and wanting to keep it, she unbuckled each ankle strap and then slid the shoes off. She moaned as the pain in her arches eased somewhat and then blushed when she realized how sexually aroused she sounded. “Being on your feet all day, especially in shoes like those,” he explained, his voice as calm as if he hadn’t noticed her moan of need, “Could be damaging more than your feet. A good reflexologist can sometimes identify other problem areas just by applying pressure to the nerve endings in your soles.” Disappointment swelled inside her. She should’ve known she’d mistaken his feelings. Connor was all business. Whatever was going on in his pants had nothing to do with her, but with the idea of maybe getting another client for his business. Oh, well, it had been worth a shot. At least she was getting a foot massage out of him. If nothing else, that would help her relax. He knelt beside the bench and reached for her right foot. “Just put yourself in my hands, Ms. Flynn,” he said quietly. Kelly gasped as his warm fingers folded over the top of her foot and pressed against the inner curve. The pads of his fingers dug through her stockings and into her flesh. Instantly, energy surged along her backbone, up over her shoulders and down into her already sensitive breasts. “Oh. Wow. That feels…” She looked into his sexy blue eyes and experienced a familiar and yet totally new pull at the core of her body. “So good.” One corner of his mouth curled upward again. “Just wait.” His fingertips began to move along the bottom of her foot, stroking at first and then kneading. Through the pain came a thrill so intense that it shot throughout her body. Closing her eyes, she arched her back and let loose another almost embarrassing groan of pleasure. She couldn’t help it. But at this moment she didn’t really care if the whole building heard her. The relief and the sweet stimulation that accompanied it were worth a little embarrassment. “You like that?” he asked with amusement in his voice. A moment passed before she managed to answer. Did he not realize what he was doing to her? “Oh, yeah,” she said, keeping her eyes closed so she could focus on the sensation of his touch. “You actually do this to people for a living?” “I actually do.” He lowered his voice. “But some strokes I save for special people like you.”

His fingers slid up the back of her heel to her ankle and squeezed the ligaments there. Instantly, her womb tightened, sending a ripple of pleasure down through her vagina. More than a ripple, she realized. A string of firecrackers sparked and popped inside her. Her eyes popped open and she found his face hovering near hers. She had just an instant to gasp in surprise before his mouth covered hers in a kiss so sweet and hungry that Kelly didn’t think or debate with herself any more. She just melted into him. His mouth warmed hers. His lips, pliant and gentle, drew her closer. Their tug and taste conspired with his fingers as they squeezed her foot and sparked a rush of desire more intense than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. An exquisite torture that she would have gladly endured forever, his touch and his kiss sent wave after wave of arousal coursing through her until she was certain she would erupt in a violent non-contact climax. Still kissing her, he shifted her legs so that she sat facing forward on the bench, her knees on either side of his waist. He tugged her forward to perch on the edge of the bench, spreading her legs wide and parting her skirt. His lips parted hers in like manner, his tongue slipping into her mouth in an erotic invasion as he drew her hot, aching center against the hardness straining through his jeans. He held both her feet now and, as he squeezed her arches, he pressed his hips forward. His denim-clad cock unerringly found the cleft between her legs and the pressure of his hardness against her hungry, panty-sheathed female muscles sparked a sharp pang of hunger deep inside her. Like a ravenous beast, it bolted with jarring intensity through every organ in her body. Stunned, she drew her lips from his and snatched a quick breath. “Is this a good idea?” she whispered, peering into blue eyes that reflected her own daze. “You tell me.” His gaze moved over her face, settling on her mouth. “I’ve been dreaming about just this kind of situation with you for months.” Kelly twitched as another surge of desire hit her. “You have?” “Yeah.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I want you, Kelly, but it’s up to you how far we go.” He remained still, watching her, waiting. Kelly looked back at him and nipped at her lower lip. She’d decided to give in to impulse, to let herself go. But her nature made it important that she know this was something more than a spur of the moment encounter, that neither of them was just taking advantage of the situation to scratch an itch. That she wasn’t risking her job for some meaningless grope and grind in a stuck elevator. She didn’t expect forever but she wanted something more than just right now. “I thought you weren’t interested in getting involved with a woman,” she said. His brows quirked downward. “If she’s the right woman, a man is always interested.” Kelly swallowed. “I thought… I mean, I’ve heard that you’re pretty much…well…all business. That you’re not interested in romantic relationships. But I have to tell you that romance is very important to me.” “You’ve heard, huh?” His brows relaxed and his mouth softened. “Maybe your sources of information just haven’t interested me.” He lowered his voice as his dreamy eyes focused on her mouth. “But you do interest me, Kelly. You’ve interested me since the moment we met.” Something more than sexual need coursed through her. She’d interested him but he hadn’t acted on it…what did that say about his feelings? She lowered her voice. “I’ve never let a man seduce me in an elevator before. I’m not the kind of woman who goes for one night stands.” “I’m not that kind of man, either.” His gleaming eyes searched hers. “And romance is

most definitely part of the deal here. That is, if it’s all right with you.” “Oh.” Her sound of surprise came out as more of a breath than a word. “Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” “You’re always on the move, always so busy.” He slid one knee forward and the outside of his thigh pressed her leg further to the side. “I didn’t think you were interested in me.” “I’ve been interested for a long time,” she confessed. “I just never feel as if…you know…as if I have time for everything.” She spoke haltingly, her mouth growing heavy beneath the weight of his attention. She knew he was thinking about kissing her again. And, oh, how she wanted him to kiss her again. Kiss her and more. “You need to slow down,” he said. “Take life a little easier.” Sliding his thumb once more on top of her left foot, he began to move it in tiny circles. His touch sent that warm sensation through her breasts again. Like warm, molten silk, it flowed through her veins. “You need to take time for yourself,” he went on. “Relax.” “I’m not…sure…I know how any more.” “Let me show you how, Kelly.” The way he said her name—low and guttural, as if he could barely catch his breath, either—intensified the heat that his touch sparked within her. “Please,” she breathed out. “Show me, Connor.” “We’ll take it one moment at a time,” he said, continuing that stimulating movement of his thumb even as he continued to focus his sexy eyes on her mouth. “But I definitely want more than one moment. If it’s all right with you.” Kelly couldn’t think of anything she’d like better. One moment at a time. She could do that. “I guess we have nothing else to do for the next few moments,” she said. She barely got the last word out before his mouth swooped down on hers. This time there was no gentleness in his kiss. Not that she wanted gentleness. She wanted passion and lust, and he gave it to her with nips and suction and eager laps of his tongue. That suited her, she decided. Maybe a little grope and grind in the elevator was the perfect way to start a relationship, after all. Reaching around him, Kelly gripped his hips and tugged him closer, pressing him into her, whimpering when his jeans and her panties barred his way. Desperate suddenly to ease her suffering, she reached between their bodies and found his zipper. It descended easily at her touch. The button popped free and, as if instinctively seeking the opening in his briefs, his cock sprang free and into her hand. It struck hot and hard against her palm, pulsing with life and need. Kelly wrapped her fingers around it and felt the pounding of blood through his shaft. The power and the need that pulsed there heightened her own arousal even more. She squeezed, dragging a groan from him now, and then she shoved her free hand into her skirt pocket to get the condom. Under the circumstances, this was the handiest tip she’d ever received. Removing her lips from his, she used her teeth to rip open the packet. The confusion in his eyes made her laugh. “I’ll explain later,” she said and then rolled the condom down over him. Then she reached between her own legs with her other hand and swept aside the lacy scrap of her panties. She felt the wetness of her own sexual hunger against her fingertips and then she tugged his cock toward her, desperate to feed her craving. Releasing her right foot, he reached behind her to press his palm under her skirt. Cupping

her ass, he pulled her forward to meet the cock she still held and her hand fell away. The instant his head breached her opening he squeezed her left foot again. To her amazement, Kelly came in an immediate, shuddering explosion of pleasure that released and re-coiled at the same time. Muscles rippled within her wet passage, drawing him deeper inside. She came again. Crying out against his mouth, she lifted off the bench and rammed herself against him. A third and more powerful climax ripped through her, jangling every nerve in her body as if they were tiny silver bells strung on wires. Even her ears rang. Moments passed before she realized that an audible ringing came from outside her body. Rhythmic and jarring…it was the phone. “Damn it,” Connor muttered, frustration roughing up his voice. Releasing his hold on her hip, he reached back toward the control panel. But Kelly’s hungry body didn’t want to let him go just yet. Not now that she’d tasted the extraordinary pleasure he could give her. As if of their own volition, her knees clamped against his thighs, locking him inside her. When he couldn’t reach the ringing phone, she began to laugh. “Damn it,” he said again but a grin curled his lips. Pressing her legs apart, he slid free of her passage. Before he could turn away, she caught sight of his magnificent hardness, encased in latex, slick and shiny from being inside her. Moisture surged from her core and she groaned out loud. She wanted more. Right now. She reached for him but he gave her a warning glance with his smile. And then he was tucking himself away and answering the phone. “Hello?” His voice came out gruff with frustration and she nearly laughed again as he haltingly explained to the caller, “I was…sitting…on the floor. I got a cramp in my leg and couldn’t get to the phone.” He looked over his shoulder at her. Kelly saw his frustration fade as his gaze fixed on her still parted legs. Her clit began to throb again and she hoped the caller told him that they wouldn’t be rescued for hours and hours. She suppressed yet another laugh. Sex in an elevator. Who would have thought she’d ever do that? Turning his back toward her, he reached down to pull up the zipper on his jeans. “Sure. No, that’s great. We’re more than ready to…” He cast another glance—this one quite wicked—at Kelly. “Get off.” The elevator’s motor whirred to life. ***** “My! Oh my, oh my.” Fancy felt the heat in her cheeks in spite of the fact that no blood flowed through her spirit body. She hovered in an upper corner of the still elevator. She’d seen some amazing things in her life—and after-life—but these two lovebirds took the cake. She’d known they were attracted to each other, but the intensity of their attraction stunned her. “Oh my,” she said again. In all her years of matchmaking, she’d never seen a couple come together so quickly and so intensely. Kelly resisted at first, so Fancy had hung around in case she needed to provide any extra motivation. But once the girl made her decision, she and her young man couldn’t even wait until they escaped from the elevator to—now how would Hiram have put it—have at each other. “Well, I suppose times really have changed,” Fancy murmured. Confident that the pair was well and truly matched, she whooshed down through the elevator floor, on her way to find couple number two before Jake Christian started to get in her way.

Chapter Two To Connor’s surprise, the elevator went back up instead of continuing downward. That suited him just fine. He wasn’t ready to let this sexy woman leave, not until he’d finished what they’d so gloriously started. Never mind the hectic pace of her life. She’d started his motor, revved him into high gear, and he needed release. Needed it and wanted it. But only from her. Since the first night they’d met, he’d wanted only Kelly Flynn. Hanging up the phone, he turned back toward her. Her emerald green eyes still revealed a glaze from the intensity of her unexpected orgasms—she’d enjoyed three, if he’d counted right—and her legs still splayed from where he’d knelt between them. His cock hardened as he drank in the sight of her, her clothing in disarray, her face flushed with passion, her mouth swollen from his kisses. The inner flesh of her thighs reddened from clenching around him. Reality, he decided, is sooooooo much better than fantasy. He’d often daydreamed about Kelly Flynn when he should be focusing on paperwork or even when working on patients. Dreamed of touching her, caressing her. As a man who used his hands so much in his work, he had definite preferences in what he liked to touch. And what he wanted to touch now was the most beautiful pair of breasts he’d ever seen. Even through her clothes, he could tell that they weren’t large. But their shape and the way they moved under her shirt and vest made them look just right for him. Of course there was more to her that he wanted to explore as well. Her short, strawberry-blonde hair that sat like a silken cap upon her exquisitely shaped head—he wanted to get his hands on that part of her tonight too. He wanted to stare into her big green eyes that could go from smooth intelligence to fiery passion in the flash of a second. They had haunted his mind almost from the moment they’d met. And the clothes she wore to work in the club…always the same outfit. Short black leather skirt, white silk tuxedo shirt and a black leather vest. Sexy as hell. The only difference he ever saw in her attire was her shoes. Normally, she wore sensible heels. But those torture devices she’d worn tonight… “What is it about stiletto heels that make a woman’s legs look so sexy?” he asked, holding out his hand to her. Kelly slipped her fingers into his grip and stood up. “I’m not wearing them right now,” she reminded him. “And I thought you said they were bad for my feet.” The huskiness in her voice had the rocket in his pants fueling up again…not that it had ever gone fully dry since he’d stepped into this elevator with her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight and he thanked whatever coincidence had brought them together. “They are bad for your feet.” He tugged her close, unbalancing her just enough so that she fell against him. “And you should only wear them on very special occasions.” She leaned in to him, half-closing her eyes as she looked at his mouth. “Like this one?” She rubbed lightly against him, her motion moving the leather front of her vest open. Her breasts cushioned his ribs but her rigid nipples pricked at him through her shirt and his sweater. “Yeah,” he managed to breathe out, imagining how she’d look naked, leaning into him like this. “Oh, yeah.” “Please tell me,” she murmured, her lips barely brushing his chin. “That what just happened isn’t part of your normal professional treatment.” The tip of her tongue eased out to stroke his flesh. It rasped lightly against the stubble

along his jaw. “It’s not. And it isn’t over, either.” He shifted his head downward to capture her sweet mouth for one moment more, sucking her lower lip between both of his hungry ones. He’d thought of taking just a taste before they were rescued but that kiss melded into another as Connor sighed and angled his mouth to capture hers more fully. His hands slid upward, pushing her vest further aside, reaching for her luscious breasts. The elevator bell dinged. The car eased to a stop. The doors whispered open. Reluctantly, Connor released Kelly before his hands reached their enticing goal. Even more reluctantly, he stepped back from her lush body. But he quickly realized he hadn’t moved fast enough. The dark-haired man standing outside the elevator couldn’t have missed their passionate embrace. A grin brightened the man’s brown eyes as he tilted back the scarred leather cap atop his head. “Miss Fancy up to her old tricks again?” Before either of them could answer, the man extended a hand toward Connor. “I’m Jake Christian. Let me be the first to congratulate you two.” “Connor Latimer.” Connor frowned as he shook the other man’s hand. “This is Kelly Flynn. And…congratulate us? I don’t understand.” Jake laughed. The hearty sound bounced off the walls of the elevator. “You will,” he said, giving Connor a wink and a nod. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking Miss Fancy out of service for a bit while I try to figure out what’s wrong with her this time. If there’s anything wrong with her at all.” Connor glanced at Kelly, who studied the other man with confusion for a moment. Then, without speaking, she scooped up her shoes and stepped out of the elevator. Connor knelt to pick up her tray of glasses and then followed her into the corridor. Puzzled, he looked over his shoulder as Jake Christian stepped into the elevator. The repairman’s dark eyes still gleamed with amusement as he pressed one of the buttons and the doors slid closed. “I wonder what’s so funny,” Kelly said. “Me too.” Connor turned in her direction, his attention drifting beyond her and along the familiar gray-carpeted corridor. An enticing idea came to him. “We’re back on the eighth floor. My office is just up the hall if you want to…” His gaze swung back to her. “Rest your feet for a few more minutes,” he concluded suggestively. At least, he hoped she understood his suggestion. “I think I’d like to do just that.” She allowed herself a slow visual sweep down his body, lingering on the tell-tale bulge behind his zipper, and he got the impression that she did understand. Apparently the lady wanted to do something more than rest her feet. That was good. Very, very good. She turned and walked ahead of him up the carpeted corridor, her hips swaying beneath that short black skirt, her sandals dangling from one hand. She tossed a glance over her shoulder and he saw the glow of desire in her emerald eyes. Oh, yeah. She wants a little more, he thought and stepped after her. She looked up at him as he drew even with her. “So what is it that keeps you from sleeping well, Connor?” Holding the tray of glasses, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t touch her again right now—stroke his palms along her shapely calves, over her knees and up her thighs and then across her flat belly to her sweetest curves—he leaned down toward her. “I’m sorry?” “Earlier you mentioned that you don’t sleep well. I was just wondering why.” He thought of all the reasons he’d come up with for his insomnia over the past few months. Honestly, loneliness and frustrated dreams of doing with Kelly what he’d just done were

the things that kept him awake. Knowing she was too busy to give him more than the time of day and that he didn’t have a future with her often caused him to toss and turn into the wee hours of the morning. Apparently that wasn’t so true any more. “I guess I have my own issues with relaxing,” he said, not yet ready to tell her that thinking about how to breech her high-speed all-business nature often kept him up nights imagining one seductive scenario after another. He’d share that with her later. Reaching his office door, he hesitated and then looked helplessly at her as he held the tray. “My keys are in my right front pocket. Get them for me, will you?” One of her pale eyebrows rose and amusement quirked her lips. “All right,” she said. Stepping close to him, she eased her hand into his pocket. Connor knew that his key ring nestled right there. He felt her fingers brush it, heard the jingle of metal. But she didn’t immediately grab it. Instead, she held his eyes with her own as she reached a little to the left, just enough to grip the head of his cock. Connor gasped and stiffened his legs to keep them from buckling. The glasses on the tray rattled as his hands went weak from loss of circulation brought on by a southward rush of blood. The condom he still wore suddenly went tight around his cock. He looked down into those amazing jewel-green eyes that twinkled up at him. “Darlin’, you keep that up and we’re gonna have a mess on our hands.” She sidled up closer to him, pressing her breasts into his upper arm as she squeezed his aching cock again. “You mean I’ll have a mess on my hand?” “If I weren’t still sheathed, you just might.” She eased the tip of her tongue out to trace the bow shape of her upper lip and then said, “Surely you can hold it long enough to get inside and put down that tray.” “Darlin’, I’m on the verge right—” His breath hitched as her hand shifted from his head to his shaft. “Now,” he finished with a wheeze. Smiling a mysteriously sexy smile, Kelly released his cock and shifted her fingers to his key ring. Drawing it out of his pocket, she dangled it in front of him, smiling coyly. “Which one?” “The big gold one,” he answered and then waited impatiently while she unlocked his office door. He hadn’t realized that going for over a year without sex could make him so horny. Not that he’d ever felt this hot for his ex-wife—or any other woman for that matter. There was definitely something special about Ms. Kelly Flynn. The iron rod in his pants threatened to explode through the flimsy zipper on his jeans. His heart beat so fast he feared it might climb right up his throat. “The light switch is just to the right,” he said as she stepped inside his office suite. Kelly flipped on the light and then stood to one side as he followed her through the doorway on legs that barely functioned properly. The quiver in his thighs sent vibrations right into his cock. That little taste of her was killing him and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait to get the full course. He carried the tray to the magazine table in the center of his waiting room. As he set it down, he heard the snick of the door lock behind him. He straightened and turned. Kelly leaned back against the door, her body slumped in a sinuous invitation to sin and sin again. Connor wondered if he could meet the challenge of more than one climax. Remembering the three climaxes he’d already given her, he knew that she could. “Do you want to use the phone?” he asked, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted any

woman. “To call down to the club?” Slowly, she shook her head. “Your boss won’t be wondering where you are?” A frown fluttered over her face. Then she swung her sandals a couple of times and dropped them on the floor. “She can wonder for a few minutes more.” “Oh, darlin’, what I have in mind is gonna take more than a few minutes,” he said. Her eyes widened. “I can’t imagine that you can improve on what happened back in that elevator.” “I guarantee I can improve on it.” He crooked his finger and started backing toward the door that led to his treatment room. His knees still felt weak from the nearness of his own climax. It was even money whether or not they might buckle before he got her inside his treatment room. “Follow me.” Kelly obeyed, her hips swaying again in a way that made him want her under him right now. It ought to be illegal for a woman to move like that out in public, he thought. But privately, if she wants to move like that under me…or on top of me… Connor opened the treatment room door and backed inside the dark room. Kelly paused in the doorway, a curvaceous silhouette against the lit room behind her. “Stay there a minute,” Connor said. He walked around the reclining chair in the center of the room. A counter stood against the back wall. With hands that shook, he turned on a small light mounted beneath one of the upper cabinets. A gentle glow lightened the room. He turned back to Kelly. “Come on in,” he said quietly. She moved to the center of the room, taking in the soothing setting. She had relaxed so much since he’d made her come. She appeared to have forgotten about work and school schedules and whatever else might have weighed on her mind. He wondered how much more relaxed he could make her. His mouth began to water at the possibilities and his hands thickened with their own emptiness. “Take off your panties,” he said. She faced him and lifted her eyebrow again. Her eyes glittered in what he was beginning to think of as a very sexy expression. “I beg your pardon?” Stepping close, he lifted a hand to brush one knuckle against the side of her jaw. Her skin felt like satin. No. Softer than satin. He’d touched the skin of so many women in the line of his work but none soothed his hand and his heart as touching this woman did. None set him burning as this woman did. “Take off your panties,” he repeated huskily. He saw her throat work as she swallowed. But her emerald eyes told him she was ready for whatever he had in mind. He knew that she was an independent woman, used to taking care of herself, so putting herself in his hands must be difficult for her. But she did as he commanded, reaching under her skirt and sliding the silky black scrap down her hips and legs. He grinned as he reached out and took the warm wisp of silk. “Of course they would be black,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the soft cloth. “I try to coordinate all my clothes.” A wicked hint of mystery darkened her tone. “But I can’t wear a black bra under a white shirt, so I opt to go without a bra when I’m working here.” Connor’s head shot up and his gaze fixed on her breasts as she slowly stripped away her leather vest. Through the white silk, her nipples protruded and he could just make out the sweet

outline of her breasts. At the sight, he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped his throat. He hadn’t realized just how close to Heaven he’d come in the elevator. Dropping her panties on the table beside the chair, he gestured toward the recliner. “Sit down,” he said hoarsely. Kelly obeyed, propping her feet on the pillow at the foot of the chair. Connor reached into the towel warmer that stood against the wall behind the chair. Although the device had been turned off for half an hour, the soft white towels inside it retained most of their heat. Unfolding one, he placed it over her feet. She blinked rapidly. “Mmm. That’s nice.” “Just wait.” He reached back toward the counter for a bottle that contained lavender scented foot cream. It had also been removed from its warmer only minutes before he’d locked up for the evening. He pumped some cream into his hand and found it still warm and fragrant. Stepping near the foot of the chair, he slipped his hands under the towel and began to massage the cream into the soles of her feet. Kelly groaned and her body arched off the chair. The sight of her pleasure tempted him to abandon what he was doing and bury himself inside her right now, this time to the hilt. But he wanted to see just how aroused he could get her. If he could wait that long. Just touching her slender feet and listening to her moan made him almost crazy with lust. “Do you…have a lot of…female patients?” she asked, her voice just short of breathless as she watched him along the length of her restless body. “Most of my patients are women.” He slid his thumbs up over the bridges of her feet and began to massage her skin in tiny circles. “But none of them get the kind of treatment that I’m about to give you, Kelly.” She shifted in the chair, moving her upper body almost involuntarily. Her breasts strained against her shirt, her nipples standing up tall and proud, as if begging for the touch of his hands and his tongue. “That feels…really nice.” Trying to ignore the growing desperation in his pants, Connor continued to massage the tops of her feet. Rotating his thumbs across each of her arches, he explained, “Feet and hands contain the nerve endings for the body. Each part of the foot serves a particular organ or area of the body. For example, the top of your foot serves the breast.” As he increased the pressure of his fingers, she sucked in a shuddering breath and arched her back again, her breasts rising toward the ceiling. “Oh,” she said, her voice smooth and low. “I see what you mean.” Watching her move like that made him tense to pounce. To take her like a ravenous wild animal. With difficulty, he held himself back. He wanted her right on the edge before he entered her again because he knew it wouldn’t take him long to blast off. “Unbutton your shirt,” he coaxed, his voice hoarse from his own restraint. Kelly looked at him as she lifted her hands to the top pearl button. The light set her eyes aglow as she watched his face. He couldn’t decide what to look at as she slipped the button out of its hole and then moved down to the next. Her parted lips, so full and begging to be kissed, or the sweet roundness that her shirt slowly began to reveal. Her breasts swelled against the cloth, revealing the dark shadow of each nipple as they strained against the fabric. Damn, she really wasn’t wearing a bra. He shifted his grip so that his fingers strummed the tendons at the back of her ankles. “The nerves right here connect deep inside you.” It was hard to concentrate on his explanation

but he wanted her to understand how much pleasure he could give her. “To your womb.” Her hips tightened as she continued to fumble with the buttons. Watching her, Connor felt an answering tightening deep within his own body. His cock hardened even more and he released one of her feet to reach for his zipper. He needed to release himself before his rocket—condom and all—really did blast a hole through his jeans. His large cock sprang through the opening, extending almost straight toward her. Like it has a mind of its own, he thought. He needed release and he needed it soon. He reached for the lever on the side of the chair and lowered the foot rest. Catching Kelly’s feet again, he lifted them up on either side of his hips and stepped in close to her heated center. Her skirt rolled upward, her eyes went wide and she nipped at her luscious lower lip again. “Let me do that,” he murmured and leaned over to capture her lip with his teeth. He nibbled on her pink flesh as he continued to massage her slender feet. She tasted sweet and fresh and the flavor made him want more. His cock pulsed with the want inside him. She moaned and opened her mouth for him, shifting her body downward and arching it toward him. Her barely covered breasts brushed against his chest, enticing him to step closer. The head of his cock slipped between her legs to probe at her heated opening. “Are you ready for me to begin a more intimate massage?” he whispered, moving his lips along the side of her face, planting butterfly kisses along the way to her ear and then down along her neck. His lips brushed the top of one breast and his mouth began to water. So close. So close… All the while he continued to massage her feet. He knew that he’d come the instant he breached her passage. But he needed to have a taste of her luscious breasts first. One taste. Just one sweet taste. Kelly felt his nose nudge her shirt aside. Then he ran his tongue slowly over her nipple as if relishing a scrumptious dessert. His licks and sucks brought to mind an image of a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with a cherry. And like the dessert she imagined, Kelly felt herself melting under the heat of his mouth. Her body tightened inside, deep and low, and she hovered on the verge of an explosive climax. A few more moves from this wonderful man and she’d detonate. Moving his attention to her other breast, Connor closed his mouth over one of her engorged nipples. The nub was sweet and hard against his tongue and the sensation and taste made him grow even harder. “Oh, yes,” she whispered, arching her hips again, spreading her legs wider. Connor moved those final inches forward, probing her mound, parting her lips. As her hot, wet passage drew him inside, he did nearly lose control. It had been so long. Either he’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be sheathed inside a woman’s hot wetness or he’d never really known until he’d sheathed himself in this woman tonight. The sensations rippling along his shaft threatened to spark an immediate explosion and he instinctively tightened his grip on her feet. Kelly groaned and shuddered beneath him, her climax rippling along his shaft and drawing out his own answering detonation. Kelly held tight to his shoulders as her orgasm rippled to its end. Thrashing, cresting waves settled into the smooth swells of a deep, dark pond. But even that shuddering explosion

had not sated her completely. Even as the tempest within her settled, it heightened her hunger for more of the same. Never in her life had she been so horny. Connor’s body was hard and tight beneath her hands and where it lay along her torso. All she could think about was how she wanted him naked before they went at it again. She didn’t want to touch his shirt or his pants. She wanted her hands on his naked flesh. She wanted his hot skin against hers. Without speaking, she reached between their bodies and slid her hands under the bottom of his sweater. He groaned and went limp against her, apparently unaware of what she was trying to do. With difficulty, she stripped the sweater away and tossed it aside. Then she ran her hands along his back. Sweat slicked his skin. Her hands slid down to his waist and around it to the front of his jeans. An exquisite sensation skimmed along her passage as his cock slid free of her body. Her fingers popped the button and then she shoved his pants down past his hips, skimming his flat, hard buttocks with her palms. And then, eager for another climax of her own, she dug her fingers into his ass and dragged him back inside her. His cock instantly sprang to life again and he took her hint. Without lifting his head from the crook of her neck, he began to pump his hips faster and harder, hammering into her. Kelly heard his breath coming faster, felt the warmth of it against her neck but quickly focused on her own growing need. The nerves for this climax lay deeper inside her and were harder to reach. She held on tight, pumping her hips upward as his rhythm accelerated, drawing him further into her passage. His body went hard beneath her hands and inside her aching passage. He was like one hard rod of steel for her to use as she wanted. A moan shuddered through him as he thrust powerfully once more and then he went rigid on top of her. “Oh…not yet.” The words whispered out of her as the hungry muscles inside her craved completion. Right there. It coiled up right there if he could only keep going. But he didn’t. He went limp, his body a heavy weight upon hers. “Sorry. Just…give me…a few minutes.” He pressed his hands against the chair on either side of her and tried to push himself off her. “I just…need…to catch…my breath.” “No.” Her carnal need spurred her natural tendency to take action, to get things done. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist and dug her heels into his ass, drawing him deeper inside her before he could separate. Amazingly, he remained hard. She felt the length and girth of him inside her tight, wet passage. Gripping his shoulders, she lifted her hips off the chair and began to pump upward against him. Connor’s head came up, his eyes conveying the glazed disbelief of someone who doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. “I’m…on…the verge…” Her voice rolled out in a guttural groan of barely coherent words. The fire he had stoked inside her blazed out of control and she knew only one way to quench it. Holding him tighter, she let her hips move faster and faster. The flames licked higher and higher until she exploded again.

Chapter Three Connor came with her in glorious synchronization. How could he help it? He’d never been caught like that before, never been stroked like that. If he didn’t have bruises on his butt from the pressure of her bare heels and the clutch of her fingers, he’d be amazed. And the way her thighs had gripped his hips…the woman’s muscular strength was incredible.

With a final groan, she went limp beneath him. He followed her down from the orgasmic heights, collapsing on top of her with just enough presence of mind to make sure some of his weight went on his own arms. And still, impossibly, he remained hard and ready for more. His cock really did have a mind of its own. What a relief. Over the past few months, he’d about decided it had gone stupid from lack of use. Except where Kelly was concerned. When he saw her or thought about her, his penis definitely stood up and took notice. The damn thing even tried to take control of his body and his mind. And right now Connor definitely appreciated its efforts. He also appreciated the strength in that condom she’d given him. He wondered if she carried another one in her pocket and where she’d gotten the first one. Why did she carry it around within such easy reach? Don’t worry about things like that, he told himself as weariness washed over him. She said she’d explain later. If they were to have any kind of relationship, he needed to trust her. For a long time they lay together, two limp lengths of flesh, legs partially entwined, his cock buried inside her. And Connor would have willingly stayed that way all night. Amazement and elation flowed through him. He’d thought his first time with a woman since his divorce would be awkward. But this…well, it hadn’t just been amazing. It felt totally right. Kelly wasn’t the kind of woman who would use her sex as an enticement or a punishment, dangling it before him or withholding it from him. His ex-wife had almost convinced him that all women behaved that way. But Kelly appeared to understand wants and needs. Now that she’d taken the time to indulge her own pleasure for no reason beyond the fact that she’d wanted to do so maybe she would realize that such pleasure should be part of her normal routine. Maybe she’d realize that taking time for herself now and then would help her in the more hectic times of life. Hope filled him. Maybe she’d include him in that routine. What a great outcome that would be for all his fantasizing. For the two of them to find such pleasure in each others’ arms night after night after night… Just as Connor started to drift off into a satiated slumber, her body began to shake beneath his. With difficulty, he roused himself. At first he thought she might be crying, that maybe he was hurting her with his crushing weight. Another moment passed before he realized she was laughing. Lifting his heavy head, he looked down at her face. A snort escaped through her nose and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “You’re laughing?” He frowned. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” “I’m laughing at myself,” she mumbled through her fingers before lowering them to rest on his shoulder. Her eyes, glittering with amusement, locked with his. “At what a fool I’ve been. I am never, ever, going to be too busy for this kind of moment again.” “I guess I’m flattered, after all.” Connor grinned. Had she read his mind? “So I’ve opened your eyes to the power of relaxation, huh?” “You’ve opened something, mister.” Connor laughed too and rolled to one side, shifting his hips and rearranging their bodies so that she lay across him on the treatment chair. His cock slid free of her plump folds. He took a second to remove the spent condom and toss it in the nearby trash can. Then, he settled himself into the chair. Folding her arms across his chest, she rested her chin on one wrist, looked down at him and smiled gently. Her eyes glowed in the light, revealing her bliss. The sight of that pleasure

humbled him and made him want to give her more of the same. Lifting his hands, he pushed his fingers through the silky cap of her hair. The strawberry-blonde strands sifted over the backs of his hands and he began to massage her scalp. Kelly closed her eyes. “Mmm.” The sound she made hovered somewhere between a purr and a moan of pleasure. “I thought your hands were sore from working all day.” “Touching you has rejuvenated them.” Lifting his head, he kissed the tip of her nose. He felt her lips against his chin and then the tip of her tongue eased out to taste his flesh. His cock, raring to go again, twitched between her stomach and his. For the moment, Connor tried to ignore his arousal. He wanted to experience just holding her, just giving her pleasure. With her busy schedule, this might be their only time together—he sure hoped not—and he wanted it to be a special time for her as well as him. No pressure, no expectations and certainly no regret. So he continued to massage her scalp, enjoying the contours of her head and the cool silk of her hair against his fingers, taking his own pleasure in the closeness and the quiet. But when she moaned and began to rock against him, he enjoyed even more the heat building between their bodies. Kelly pressed her head upward into his palms, lifting her weight to her own hands while her hips ground against his. She lifted her chest enough so that her breasts dangled enticingly within his view, framed by the open front of her silk shirt, her nipples brushing his chest. Eyes closed, she let her head fall back. “Apparently I’ve rejuvenated something more than your hands,” she said, sliding her lower body up and down along the length of his hungry cock. “Lady, I didn’t know I had this much energy,” he answered as that very energy surged through him. Opening her eyes, she looked down at him with a glint of hunger. “Why don’t we find out just how much energy you do have?” The veins in his shaft began to throb as blood rushed into them once more. “Only if I can have you naked too.” Her lips curled into a sly smile and she pushed against his chest, arching up higher and sliding slightly forward. Then she drew her knees forward and sat up almost straight. Connor groaned as her wet cleft bore down on his naked shaft. “Oh…sweet woman.” She slid one sleeve of her shirt down her arm, shielding her naked breast with her forearm. Slowly, she pulled the other sleeve down in the same manner. All the while she rocked her hips slowly forward and back, sliding her creaminess along his shaft. Connor’s mouth went dry and his vision went hazy as she continued to reveal inch after inch of pink flesh. When she finally stripped the shirt completely away, her breasts bobbled gently, her nipples pricking at the air. Connor lifted his hands to touch his palms to those straining nubs and instantly experienced the heated energy flowing through them. Awesome. Kelly’s head fell back again and her breasts rose higher, pressing into his hands. Her flesh pressed between his open fingers, overflowing his grip. “Beautiful,” he murmured and shifted his hand so that he could knuckle her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Kelly gasped and leaned further back. Her skirt rolled up around her trim waist. As she came up off his cock, he could see the strawberry-blonde curls covering her mound. That pale

hair tickled along the length of his shaft, sensitizing the ruddy flesh of it. “Oh…” Breath caught in her throat. “Pinch harder…please…” Connor obliged, tugging her hard nipples until she moaned and began to move her hips in a circular motion, her enticing curls rubbing his thighs, his cock, his lower abs. Again and again, around and around… Suddenly she reached a hand between their bodies to grip his cock. “I…want…you…inside…now!” She pulled him in the direction of the ceiling, rose on her knees and then slid down onto him. ***** “Oh, fuck!” Kelly nearly laughed at Connor’s exclamation. He obviously hadn’t expected her to impale herself so completely on his magnificent blade. She was a little surprised herself. She hadn’t quite expected her body to take in all of him so swiftly. But it had. She felt every throbbing inch of him, felt his head against the doorway leading to her womb, felt her swollen lips settled against the base of his shaft. She knew he no longer wore protection but she couldn’t stop herself if she’d wanted to. Passion took over and she began to move her body up and down, sucking breath between her teeth at the exquisite abrasion of his cock inside her passage. She was creamy with her own wetness but he’d hardened so that she felt every inch of every stroke. He started to breathe faster and harder, in rhythm with her own respiration. His hips came off the chair as he rammed himself deeper inside her and she heard her ass slap against his balls. He moaned and grabbed her cheeks, digging his fingers into them so that he could move her faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down… Kelly exploded again with the power of a thousand Roman candles, each ember releasing its own detonation until she plunged into sweet darkness. Connor stared at the top of her head and tried to think straight. Kelly had cried out as she came—cried out his name—and the intensity of her orgasm, the clenching and rippling sparked his own unbelievable climax. And then she had collapsed on top of him. He felt her breathing, heard her making small moaning sounds and knew that she was still alive. He wasn’t so sure about himself. That last leap over the edge lasted a long time. As far as he knew, he hadn’t yet hit bottom. Maybe he’d died from lack of oxygen along the way. Inhaling deeply, slowly, he watched her limp form rise with the movement of his chest. With his exhalation, she drifted lower and took up those little moans again. Then, with apparent difficulty, she lifted her head and looked at him. A dazed smile curled her lips and her green eyes blinked sleepily. “That was wonderful,” she murmured. “Thank you.” “I think mutual gratitude is in order,” he replied just as weakly. “I enjoyed myself too.” Lying together as they were, he felt her heart beating almost in time with his own. “It must be getting kind of late.” She rubbed her chin gently over his chest. “You don’t have to go.” “I have a lot to study tonight, plus I have to be up early tomorrow for work at Macy’s.” “Let me help you.” She lifted her chin from his chest and studied his face. “You’ve already helped me a great deal, Connor,” she said suggestively.

He resisted the urge to puff out his chest in male pride. “I could do more.” “Well, unless you’ve got a spare hundred dollars to help me with my rent—” “You’ve got it.” She shook her head. “I was just kidding, Connor. I can’t take your money.” “You could.” “No.” “Call it a loan. Or an investment in your career.” She shook her head again. “No. If we’re going to have any kind of relationship it would be a bad idea to bring money into it.” Warmth rolled through him. “Are we going to have a relationship?” “I’d like that.” She went back to rubbing her chin across the hair on his chest. “I’d like that too.” He stroked his hands up and down her smooth back. “People in a relationship help each other in all kinds of ways.” “You’re not lending me money.” Her tone was firm now. “Move in with me.” He felt the skip in her heartbeat where her breasts pressed against him. He saw the surprise in her eyes. “Hang on now,” she said and started to push off him. “That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think?” “I’ve been in love with you for months, Kelly. This isn’t moving fast at all for me.” She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. He laughed quietly. “I understand. No pressure. I just want you to be happy. I think I could make you happy.” She reached a hand up to brush her hair back behind one ear. “I’m a firm believer in the idea that we make our own happiness.” “It never hurts to have someone on your side.” Sadness tugged down one corner of her mouth. “I guess that’s part of my problem. Since my parents died, I’ve never felt that I had anyone on my side.” “You’ve had it rough?” She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve always been dissatisfied with where I was in my life. I never felt in control when I had to depend on someone else. Even now, relying only on myself, I usually feel like I’m teetering on the edge of losing everything.” “Sometimes you have to let go to know if you truly are in control.” He shifted slightly under her and the sadness left her expression. “Right now,” she said, “I feel almost as if I could do anything.” “Think about letting me help you. You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m not asking for forever.” He reached to stroke one hand down her silky hair. “Not yet.” “All right. I’ll think about it.” Connor pulled her back down so that her breasts splayed over his chest. “We’ll talk about it more later. For now let’s just enjoy being together.” She lowered her cheek to rest on his chest. “I guess a girl does have to relax now and then.” She pressed a gentle kiss against his breastbone. “All I care about right now is this moment. And this particular moment calls for a nap.” Connor smiled. “Sweetheart, you go right ahead and nap.” Kelly lowered her cheek to his chest and released a satisfied sigh. “You should rest too, Connor.”

Raising his right arm, Connor reached up toward a shelf above the recliner. He could just grasp one edge of the clean thermal blanket on the shelf. Tugging it down, he unfolded it and spread it over their bodies. And then, still joined with her, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Without one bit of trouble.

Chapter Four Fancy stood near the lobby doors and watched the people who entered her building. Almost every person walked straight across the elegant lobby without even glancing around. Each one, dressed in St. Valentine’s Day finery, headed for Matchmakers. “If you’re looking for love, you should let me help,” she said as they passed her by. But her presence made no difference anyway. Everyone arriving within the last little while was part of a couple or a same-sex group. Fancy considered herself a forward thinker but her job always involved matching men and women. That job had not changed simply because she’d died. “Ah, well. Perhaps the couple I stranded in the elevator a little bit ago—” A disturbance behind her caught her attention and she turned from the lobby doors. As if Fancy’s thoughts had conjured her, a petite redhead strode away from the elevator toward the main lobby door. “In a huff” would have grossly underestimated the young woman’s mood. Her face flushed and her hands formed fists as she crossed the lobby, leaving behind a confused gentleman with her handprint on his cheek. Fancy groaned. This was the couple she had stranded in the elevator only ten minutes earlier. She believed in the sudden-stop-and-stumble method of matchmaking whenever the occasion called for it. And the look this couple exchanged as they’d entered the elevator in the lobby tonight had indicated to Fancy that the tactic might work with them. Since the elevator repairman went down to the basement, she’d felt safe in manipulating the old lift without threatening his safety or anyone else’s. So she’d stranded them between the first and second floors, hoping that nature would take its course. Apparently nature had gone a little off course. “He could be perfect for you,” Fancy called as the young woman strode past her. “Give him a chance.” But the redhead kept going, muttering under her breath as yanked open one of the doors and stormed out into the snowy night. Fancy looked back at the man as he stepped out of the elevator. His graying hair caught the light of the lobby chandelier. So did the lecherous glint in his eyes as a pair of attractive young women crossed his path. “Hmm. Maybe I made a mistake with him,” Fancy admitted to herself. Older than she’d first thought, he carried a look in his eyes that told her he might be up for a sexual encounter with a hot young woman but romance did not figure into his plans. As he adjusted his tie and followed the pretty pair into Matchmakers, Fancy assumed he was looking for another potential “date” for the night. Realizing that he was just on the prowl, she decided not to include him among any further matchmaking attempts. Disappointed in her progress, she perched on one of the comfortable leather sofas in the lobby. At least she assumed it was comfortable since her spectral body didn’t actually make contact with it. But over the years, she’d found that pretending to be alive made her feel more connected to the world around her. Despite her familiar surroundings and all the people she saw during each day, she could sink into lonely despair too easily.

A tear pricked her eye. She missed Hiram so. But it was her own fault that she’d been stuck here all this time. If only she hadn’t made that rash promise… “Focus, Fancy,” she told herself. “Focus on getting it done.” Folding her arms over her chest, she watched the people moving in and out of the building and the club. She eyed a slender young woman in the act of removing a red leather jacket to reveal a black garment that could only loosely be called a dress. “The things young ladies wear—or don’t wear—these days!” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. Rising, she flew around the girl, sending a cold spectral breeze under her sorry excuse for a skirt. “Oh!” The young woman gasped and stumbled back against a pair of young men who’d just entered the lobby. Fancy grinned as one of the men caught the girl in his arms. “This looks promising,” she said out loud. But then she looked into the young man’s face and into that of his companion. She knew instantly that they were a couple themselves and would have no romantic interest in even the prettiest girl. “What a night.” Fancy sighed and turned away from the trio. She wished she could follow some of them into the club. Or that more of them would enter the elevator. A few folks had gone up to the penthouse earlier for her rock star descendant’s party. But they’d gone in groups of the same sex or alone. And except for the May-December couple she’d mismatched, no one went near the lift, even though she’d removed Jake Christian’s out-of-order sign. Fancy huffed and folded her arms over her chest. She’d have to cruise the elevator shaft again, checking every floor until she found some likely prospects. Rising, she flew through the closed elevator doors. First she checked on Jake Christian to make sure he was still examining the shaft down in the basement. Sure enough, the repairman knelt near the open elevator doors in the dank old basement, studying the machinery located at the bottom of the shaft. She knew that he’d move quickly the moment she started up the elevator motor, so she’d have to choose her next couple carefully and then move quickly herself. She moved up the shaft, pausing on each floor to look for prospective lovers—and to knock down more of Jake’s out-of-order signs. As she removed the sixth floor sign, she heard a jingle of keys and looked up the previously empty corridor. She smiled. “Ah, now this is one match I’ve been dying to make.” Fancy cast a glance Heavenward. “Or it would be if I wasn’t already dead.” She hovered in the corridor near the elevator as the handsome young accountant locked his office for the night. Overcoat slung over one strapping shoulder, he carried a manila folder in one hand while he tucked his keys into a trouser pocket with his other. He glanced down the corridor in the opposite direction from where Fancy hovered, focusing toward the source of the music that drifted seductively through the building. Despite her insubstantial form, even Fancy wasn’t immune to the effect of the Latin beat. She and Hiram had often danced the rumba and the samba at Manhattan nightclubs during the younger days of their marriage. Her dear husband always cut quite a figure in his black tie and tails and she’d been the envy of other women they met on their nights out. Russell turned in her direction. Fancy saw a shadow of despair chase away the hope that briefly flickered in his eyes. She could guess what he was thinking. “Oh, Russell, where’s your faith in yourself?” She drifted slightly forward as he walked

up the corridor toward the elevator. “She likes you. She could love you. All you have to do is show her the real you.” He looked down at the folder in his hand, gave his head a shake and then quickened his step toward the elevator. “She’s calling to you with her music,” Fancy said, hoping he would turn and go to the woman who already held his heart. Even if that woman didn’t know it yet. “Go to her, Russell.” But Russell kept his back turned to the music and the lady to which it could lead him. “Stubborn, insecure…” Fancy glanced around and her gaze lit on the out-of-order sign that she’d blown behind a large floor plant. “That might do it,” she said and whooshed toward the sign, preparing herself to concentrate. Russell Finch hesitated, his left index finger inches from the elevator’s down button. He looked at the manila folder in his other hand. Guilt and a sense of obligation to his client nearly turned him around. But cowardice kept him rooted to the carpet of the sixth floor corridor. How can I face her with this? he thought, his grip tightening on the folder. But she deserves to know, whispered his conscience. Behind him, faint music sounded. The Latin beat pulsed just slower than his heart, which only increased the heaviness in his chest. Wait until morning, whispered another voice in his head. You don’t have to tell her now. But Russell knew that voice was not the voice of concern but of his own spinelessness. Facing her with news like this… He just didn’t have the guts to upset her. Especially not on Valentine’s Day. He reached for the elevator button again. A cold draft brushed over him and knocked the folder out of his hand. Rolling his eyes, he bent to retrieve it and caught a flash of something white at the corner of his right eye. Glancing in that direction as he straightened with the folder, he saw a sheet of paper drift across the floor near a large potted plant. As the paper landed face up, he read “Elevator out of order”. Russell blinked. He looked at the elevator and then back at the paper. Then he looked over his shoulder. The staircase leading down to the building lobby stood at the far end of the corridor, near the service elevator. He would have to pass her studio to reach either one. And if he was going that direction anyway… “Do the right thing,” he murmured, and turned before more whispers could flow through his mind. Turned so quickly, in fact, that his free arm swung wide and struck the large vase of roses standing on a nearby table. The vase teetered, its lush white blossoms and green leaves dancing erratically. Russell tried to right it. In the process he managed to snag several roses on his coat sleeve and drag them out onto the table. At least I didn’t knock the vase to the floor and break it. Under his breath, he thanked his lucky stars. He knew his landlady’s taste as well as her assets inventory and this particular vase was worth almost a thousand dollars. Still muttering to himself, embarrassed even with no witness to his clumsiness, he straightened the vase. Then he picked up the fallen roses and pushed their stems back into the expensive container. He swiped away the water droplets that splattered the table and then wiped his damp hand on the bottom of his suit coat before he could stop himself. Typical Finch. He frowned at the water marks on his clothes. You can’t get through one day without knocking something over.

Moving more carefully, he walked up the corridor before he lost what little courage he’d dredged up. He passed his own office and then continued toward the source of the music—the Devon Dubois Dance Studio. Sweat made his hand slick as he opened the studio door. He stepped into the lobby. Empty vinyl sofas and chairs—looking like refugees from some 1960s airport lobby—lined the room. A colorful ceramic lamp in the shape of a dancing couple stood on a table beside the door, its pink tasseled shade casting quiet light over that part of the room. In contrast to his landlady, Devon Dubois liked vintage décor with a hint of economy. Shabby elegance on the cheap. Through the large plate-glass window that looked over the main dance floor, Russell saw that most of the overhead lights had been extinguished there too. A single spotlight pooled on the scarred pine dance floor. Beneath it, Devon danced alone. Russell’s breath hitched in his throat. Thick black hair hung loose down her back, coiling tendrils brushing against her shoulder blades. A pale gold dress clung to her body, its close fit softened by the flare of the skirt around her long legs. Her calves curved gracefully with each movement of her solitary dance, the muscles revealing themselves as she put her weight on each foot. Her knees, round and sturdy, turned her body with ease. Every time he watched her dance, he thought he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and unite in whatever rhythm moved her body. He wanted to feel her dance against him—rubbing her gorgeous form against his—until they were both so turned on that they sank onto that scarred old floor and brought their bodies together in the most primitive dance of all. Russell frowned. He’d stopped himself from following his urges for three years now. The day Devon had hired him as her accountant he’d fallen immediately in love with her. Of course he’d hidden his feelings. She was a fairy princess filled with grace and charm and joy. He was a has-been college football player who’d grown into a nerdish accountant with clumsy feet. He’d break her beautiful toes if he tried to dance with her. He knew what would happen then. She’d throw him out of her studio, terminate his accounting services and break his heart. He’d gone down that road before and was in no hurry to go down it again. But nothing would break if all he did was watch. Holding the manila folder against his chest like a shield, he approached the open doorway at the end of the wide observation window. The clarity of the music improved as he got closer. This was one of her favorite tunes—Russell often heard it this late at night after her last student had gone. It was rich with strumming guitars and strong drumbeats. He’d watched her dance to it a few times, unseen, and he knew that she always danced to it alone. Keeping her back to him now, she faced the windows that overlooked the street outside. She held her hands above her head and her dress—a pale gold color—rose at the hem to reveal the backs of her lean, muscular thighs. With her left knee bent and turned slightly outward, she stretched higher and then arched her body away to the right. A gentle twist turned her partially toward Russell, giving him a view of her left profile, her half-closed eyes and parted lips. His attention fixed there, on her full red mouth. His own lips went tense with the need to taste. But, once more, he would content himself to just look. His gaze traveled downward. Her dress, too light for a winter night, shimmered where it molded to her torso. He could make out the full roundness of her breasts and the flatness of her belly. The cloth draped the thigh of her bent leg, outlining the length of her thigh muscle as she swept her other leg back. And then she whipped her body in the other direction, half-turning to

reveal her opposite profile to him as she stretched the other way. He swallowed hard. He imagined sex with her would be just that way—rhythmic and steady before suddenly whipping his senses in a different direction. Russell lowered the manila folder to hold it in front of the stiff bulge that protruded from his trousers. Logically, he knew that his suit coat covered his obvious projection. She wasn’t looking at him anyway but he still felt exposed by the intensity of his need. And a little ashamed of himself for standing in the shadows and watching her like some kind of Peeping Tom. But he couldn’t make himself turn away. Devon reached her hands toward the ceiling. Then, facing the windows again, she bent slowly forward at the waist, widening her stance as she did so. She appeared to be reaching toward the night beyond those windows, her hands open. Her back bowed as she began to reach down and her ass grew rounder. Her stretch continued downward until she touched the floor between her feet, folding her body almost in half. Her dark hair draped down to pool on the scarred wooden floor. He could see those dark tresses through the opening in her stance. The back of her skirt rose almost high enough to reveal her buttocks but stopped before he could so much as glimpse what would certainly be an exquisite view. To his fevered imagination it was more than that. It was an offering. An offering to wrap those powerful legs around his hips and let him pump himself inside— She went still. Russell realized that her dark eyes were open and fixed on him through the inverted vee of her legs. Blushing red-hot, as he often did when her gleaming brown eyes caught his, he stumbled back a couple of steps. “Hello, Russell,” Devon said, still looking between her legs, and he imagined her voice heated while passing beneath the mound of her femininity. “Um…” Strangled by his tie, he stuck a finger inside the collar of his shirt and tried to look away from the vision of her luscious body spread so enticingly before him. “Hello.” Straightening, Devon turned to face him. Her red lips curled into a smile. Her hips swayed in rhythm with the music as she approached him across the old pine floor. He tried to swallow but couldn’t gather enough spit. Her breasts rose high above the plunging neckline of the dress, her flesh shining with a film of sweat. A single ribbon tied the dress in place just above her left hip. A simple tug would let the delicate garment fall open. The idea of that happening made him hurt. “What can I do for you?” she asked, pausing at a table just inside the big room to pick up a white hand towel. There were so many things she could do for him—to him—but he couldn’t name one, so hypnotized was he by the movement of her body coming toward him in that dimly lit place. That place that throbbed with sultry Latin music. Still smiling, she pressed the towel to her neck and then stroked it down the open area above the neckline of her dress, wiping at the feminine sweat that he could detect now on the air between them. A fine scent, it mingled with her flowery perfume and heightened his arousal so much that Russell no longer believed his coat could hide the evidence. “Russell?” Stopping less than two feet away, she continued to pat down her body. Her full breasts quivered with each stroke of that towel. Like creamy vanilla pudding, they quivered and bobbled before him. “Did you want to tell me something?” He forced his gaze back to her face. He opened his mouth but no words would come out of it. In fact, no words would even form inside his brain. His mind had gone completely empty.

Devon lowered the towel to her side and considered the man standing mutely before her. His face flushed with that ruddy color it so often acquired in her presence. She liked that but his tendency to blush was only one of his many charms. But she wanted more than charming shyness. She wanted a man who could take a dominant role. Sometimes she wanted to be led instead of coaxed. She wanted to be ruled instead of persuaded. Rarely did she meet a man confident enough to dominate her as completely as she’d like. She suspected that Russell Finch could meet her needs. Even if he was an introverted accountant around her, she’d seen how he conducted himself around other people. Only when dealing with her did he drew back into a shell of shyness. Considering his sexy body, she’d be happy to draw him out of that shell any time he proved willing to let her. What a pleasure it would be to unleash the dominant being that must dwell inside him. And she realized that she was growing impatient to do just that. She’d been biding her time, letting him get to know her. But in the three years since they’d met he had yet to make a move that didn’t involve spreadsheets or profit and loss statements. Obviously, she could wait forever for Russell to take the initiative in the romance department. No more waiting, she decided. She hadn’t been with a man in months and, damn it all, it was Valentine’s Day. This was a night for love and she would gladly take her share of love from Russell. Take a share and give one to him. Or two or three, if his manly form proved to be as hardy as she suspected. Devon walked slowly toward him. Need surged through her. She wanted to be held tonight in something more than a dancer’s embrace. She wanted to be held by a lover. By a real man. And Russell was more real than most. If he wouldn’t take the lead immediately, then she would teach him how to do so. “What did you want to tell me, Russell?” She spoke in a low voice, pondering the best way to go about seducing this big, handsome and timid man. He lifted both hands to offer the manila folder that he held. “I found this today. I thought you should see it.” Humor twinkled through her. He was so serious. “You haven’t found some discrepancy in my books, have you?” His spine straightened and his dark eyes glinted. “Of course not.” That glint—so confident and at odds with his normally docile nature—shot a thrill through her. “No,” she agreed quickly. “Of course not.” “Ms. Dubois, you know that I take the utmost care—” “How many times must I ask you to call me ‘Devon’?” She reached out to touch his arm. Gently, she reminded herself. Don’t spook him. “And I know that, with you as my accountant, I’ll never have a problem with my books.” His shoulders relaxed. But the color in his face went higher when she stroked her fingertips down the sleeve of his suit coat. “Of course not.” His voice revealed his uncertainty—at her actions, not at his accounting ability. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” She took the folder from him, intentionally brushing his hand with the side of hers. His eyes made a long blink as if he fought to control some emotion. The idea that she affected him so deeply gave her already healthy ego a boost. It also gave her the encouragement to push further. “I guess if you think I should, I ought to look this over. Why don’t you hang up your overcoat and have a seat?” She gestured toward a straight-backed chair inside the main dance studio. “If you have the time, that is.”

Nodding, Russell dragged his coat off his shoulder and hung it on a nearby coat rack. Then he stepped past her. As he drew near the chair, he tripped over his own feet and sat clumsily on the edge of the seat. But Devon knew that his trip was only caused by nerves. She felt confident that he would be no vareador—no klutz—on the dance floor. He moved smoothly enough when he didn’t know she was watching, so she believed he could handle the moves once he learned the proper steps. And with his pleasant nature, he would not be an inconsiderate lead. He would be forceful but not overbearing. If I can convince him to take the lead. Devon tucked in her lips to keep from smiling again as he rested his hands on his knees and waited for her to make the next move. At the moment he was so easy to manipulate. She wondered how far he’d let her go before he rebelled and exerted his masculine power over her. She hoped not far. She glanced his way and just before he averted his gaze, she glimpsed the hot hunger in his eyes. It sparked a rise in her own internal temperatures along with a gnawing in her core. A ripple of excitement coursed through her at the notion of Russell Finch stepping into a position of male authority over her. Like most men who came to her dance studio, he probably assumed that she liked to take charge. Many of her male students resisted taking over the lead position in the dance because she was their instructor. It was the same with romance. Very rarely did any of them raise the cajones to ask her out afterward. If they did, they usually allowed her to decide when and where and what time. Social nights out with such men bored her. She wanted things to go differently with Russell. “What do we have here?” Opening the folder, she leaned one shoulder against the door frame, blocking his exit route in case he became too edgy and tried to flee. A single sheet of paper lay inside the folder. “It looks like some kind of flyer.” “I found it posted at my gym this afternoon.” Russell rubbed his hands along the thighs of his trousers. “I thought you should see it.” From a corner of one eye, Devon watched his hands move. She wondered how those thighs would feel under her hands. Without the trousers, of course. An image of him naked flashed through her mind and pleasure tingled through her. She turned her head to follow the movement of his hands up and down his legs, openly admiring him. “You must work out at the gym several times a week, Russell. You have a wonderful physique.” His fingers clenched into his legs. “Yes. I do. Work out, that is. I mean…thanks.” “You’re welcome.” She tapped one finger against her lower lip and considered the flyer once more. “A new dance studio is opening down the street. So I’m to have competition, am I?” “Apparently.” She closed the folder and tossed it on the table from which she’d picked up her towel. “I’m not worried.” Russell’s eyes went wide. “But it’s that big chain that’s been putting smaller studios out of business all over the country. And they teach ballroom dancing. Like you.” “Not like me.” She lifted her hands at her sides, palms up and allowed herself a smug smile. “I am Devon Dubois. The greatest ballroom dance instructor on the East Coast.” “Well…” She narrowed her eyes as she lowered her hands. There were some things she would not be questioned on by anyone. “You doubt my skill?” His face flushed a shade darker, lending him an even more appealing complexion. “I

know you’re good, Ms. Dubois, but—” “Devon,” she corrected him again. She pushed away from the door. “I am so good, Russell, that I can even teach you to be a great ballroom dancer.” He shuffled his feet under the chair as she stepped closer. “I doubt that, Ms. Du—I mean, Devon.” Frustration—sexual and narcissistic—prompted her to push the issue. “Stand up.” His back went rigid. “Why?” “I will teach you right now.” She let her voice drop further and, lifting one eyebrow, made firm eye contact with him. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to know that she was as great a dance teacher as she claimed. And if she had to bully him to get him to dominate her, she’d do it. “I will teach you to tango.” Panic dashed across his eyes. “I’ll step on your feet.” “I am accustomed to having my feet stepped on.” When he just stared mutely at her, she moved closer to him and reached for one of his hands. It pleased her when he didn’t pull back, pleased her more when—after a brief hesitation—his long fingers curled around her hand. Mmm, she thought. Hesitant but strong. She did so enjoy the grip of a strong man. So many of her male students acted almost afraid to touch her. Not that they thought she might break. It was more likely that they feared she might break them. Backing away, she tugged him to his feet. Stumbling over his own toes, he lurched against her. Still holding his hand, Devon twirled deftly away. She swung around him to embrace his waist from behind with her free arm and then pressed against him, enjoying the hard warmth of his body. “I’m…a little clumsy,” he said over his shoulder as he stood stone-still in her embrace. “You’re a big man,” she said as if that explained everything. Oh but he felt good against her. “But I know you can be graceful. It is merely a question of confidence.” “I don’t think—” He stopped talking when she shifted her weight and brushed her breasts against his back. She eased her hips forward, barely brushing his buttocks with the very lowest point of her abdomen. “Oh, Russell, I am impressed.” Through his clothes, she felt the firmness of his ass against her lower abs and the flatness of his stomach against her palm. He would look magnificent naked. But that, she thought as she eased around in front of him, would come later. “For now,” she whispered, stepping close, “We tango.” Looking up, she found him gazing down at her with a breathless, expectant expression. She saw disbelief there too. Oh but this was fun. “For…now?” His voice almost squeaked. She slid her left hand up his right arm and rested her palm on his biceps. Hard muscle twitched and flexed at her touch. Gripping his left hand with her right, she extended it out to their sides and turned it palm up. She held his gaze all the while. “Put your right arm around me and press your hand to my back.” His right arm continued to dangle at his side. “I don’t think I—” “This is the standard dance position.” She made a little pout and gave him a bat of her eyelashes. “Surely you won’t mind putting your arm around me, Russell.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“I’m only trying to prove to you that I can teach anyone to dance. Then you won’t worry about my business so much.” Hesitantly, he lifted his hand to rest it where she’d instructed. His large palm almost spanned her back and his warm touch had her catching her breath. “Keep your upper body straight,” she managed to say. “And pull me toward you.” He nipped at his lower lip as he obeyed. Watching him, she had to fight to keep from rising to capture that succulent bit of flesh with her own mouth. Oh but he looked so tasty. And his reluctance to obey her indicated that he was almost ready for her feast. His lower body barely touched hers but she felt the arousal developing in him. It brushed against her skirt like a thick length of pipe. Anticipation sizzled through her. He truly was a big man in all ways. “Now, starting with your left foot…” She paused to swallow a surprising attack of nerves as his fingers pressed into her back as if testing her flesh. He was growing bolder. If she did manage to unleash his dominant side, would she be able to handle him? “Walk toward the windows.” Russell’s fingers pressed into her back again as he stepped in the direction she had indicated. After only three steps, he faltered, stepped on her left big toe with his right foot and stumbled again. Devon squealed as they went down but he managed to twist so that she fell on top of him. Breath exploded from both of them. Pain intensified in Devon’s toe but then vanished as she found herself looking down into Russell’s eyes. A muted brown, they reflected the dim light of her dance room and shimmered with more than desire. Devon also saw soft shadows of concern within those golden brown depths. In that moment Devon experienced something deeper than lust for a man’s body. She experienced a sense of safety and comfort such as she’d never known. Well. I didn’t expect this. “I told you,” he said quietly, “that I’d step on your feet.” Russell didn’t want her to move off him. Her body felt so good lying against his. He’d slept with a few women in his life but none ever fit so perfectly against him. Despite her slender frame, she felt sturdy and powerful, as if God designed her form just for him. Her generous breasts crushed against his chest and spilled above the top of her dress. Like pale golden melons, they loomed so near his face that he could probably taste them if he lifted his head a few inches. If only I had the nerve. His tongue tingled at the prospect of lapping at that creamy flesh. In fact his entire body tingled wherever she touched him. Her ribs and stomach molded along his torso. Her legs—her sexy, wonderful legs—straddled his thighs. The heat between her legs warmed his rigid cock even through their clothes, sending his imagination into flight. Without the barrier of his trousers and her dress… But would she let him? She was a confident woman, accustomed to leading in every situation. Would she accept his advances or would she turn him away? “Shall we try it again?” she softly asked. Rolling off him, she pushed herself upright. Russell didn’t imagine she would be able to help him stand so he rolled over on his knees and got to his feet. He thought he heard her gasp and quickly looked her way. She faced the table and pushed around several CD cases. “This music isn’t exactly right,” she said and then paused to clear her throat. “Let’s try a true tango beat. Something full of life and passion.”

He stood behind her and couldn’t help admiring her trim waist and curving hips and the lean muscles of her calves. His hands wanted to stroke her athletically feminine form. Every inch from her strong ankles to her sleek neck. Stroke and taste. He wiped his palms down the sides of his suit coat and gripped the cloth to keep from reaching for her. And then she turned toward him, arms raised and her smile lit the room. A moment later their bodies came together again as the air filled with sensual rhythm. “La Caminita. The Walk is the basic part of most tango steps.” Devon continued to speak quietly as she reached behind her to adjust his left hand upward, settling it more securely against her shoulder blade. “We start slowly, stepping only on the numbers one and three. We hold on two and four. All right?” He nodded hesitantly, distracted by the flex of muscle in her back. He sensed powerful strength in her slender body. The idea of controlling that strength with his own body, of having it at his command— “Let’s begin,” she said. “One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.” After a few missteps, Russell began to move more easily to her directions. The rhythm of walking was natural, their tempo slow and smooth and almost in time with the music. And she settled like heaven in his arms even though he touched only her back and one hand, and her other arm rested on his biceps. Does she feel the tightness in my arm? he wondered. The muscles there involuntarily twitched. He couldn’t be sure but he thought the pressure of her hand increased. Had she felt that twitch? Was she merely being a good teacher and trying to calm his nerves? Or maybe she did it to test the strength of his muscle. That last idea touched off his imagination. It could be true. He knew he was no slouch in the muscle department and, being a dancer, she was bound to admire an athletic body. In fact, he thought she had cast more than one admiring glance his way this evening. Even if he’d imagined it, just the idea of her noticing his body boosted his ego. He began to move more confidently. “Step on the balls of your feet,” she said. “Imagine yourself as a big cat, stalking its prey in the jungle.” Russell had seen big cats only in the zoo and most of them had been lazing in the sun. But he got the idea that she was trying to get across to him. Big cats moved with power and grace. There was no reason a big man couldn’t do the same. Loosening his spine he tried to move more fluidly. “Keep your back straight,” she said. “And keep pulling me toward you.” Russell pressed his hand to her back, drawing her closer, his body anticipating the alignment of hers with his. But she immediately resisted, pulling back. “We must maintain space between our bodies so that we can move. But it must be narrow space. A breath of air only.” She lowered her voice further and fixed her gaze on his. “We want each other but we resist. The tango is a dance of passion. A dance of almost angry foreplay.” Her words made him stumble again but this time he didn’t trip. He managed to brace one foot and stop their forward motion. Heat rose in his face as he crushed her to him to keep her from falling and her breasts once more flattened against his chest. She chuckled and he felt the vibration of it move through his body. It coiled around his heart and then downward into that part of him that hungered so physically for her. “This is nice, Russell. But our space has vanished again.”

Looking down, he saw that a flea couldn’t squeeze between them. But damn, she felt good against him. All that firm muscle and those soft curves…he didn’t want to let her go. “Why don’t we try something a little different?” Releasing his hand, she turned in his embrace so that she stood with her back to him. Russell froze as she placed her right palm over his where it hovered just above her belly. She pressed his fingers against her abdomen. Gripping his left hand, she extended both their arms out to that side. Russell could barely breathe. Her beautiful breasts dangled just above his right hand. Her shoulder blades pressed into his chest and her ass snuggled up against one of his thighs. The warmth of her body soaked inside him as she aligned herself with him. There certainly was no space between them now. “We’ll step with the same foot at the same time.” She continued as if completely unaware of her effect on him. “Begin with the left foot. Ready? And one, two, three, four.” Russell stepped with her across the dance floor. She turned partly in his embrace so that their hips brushed. But for Russell the friction between their bodies didn’t diminish. If anything the heat increased. He tried to look down at his feet but was distracted by the view along the way. The curve of her cheek, the gloss of her hair—and then he looked at her breasts, so round and full and crested by the most enticing points. He could actually see the shape of her nipples through her dress. His swollen cock became almost painfully engorged. They reached the far side of the room just as the music ended. Silence settled around them. Russell started to lower his hands but Devon held them fast. Her spine relaxed. Leaning back against him, she turned her head and pressed her cheek to his chest. He realized then that she was breathing quickly, raggedly. Russell couldn’t believe it. He had allowed himself to imagine that she was trying to seduce him but she couldn’t really…could she? “Russell.” She said his name quietly as she lifted his right hand up along her torso and across her ribs. She let his fingers rest just below her right breast. “We’ve known each other for a long time.” Russell didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was too caught up in the scent and the feel of her against him. And the anticipation of actually touching her breast made him sweat. She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I don’t think it’s any secret that we find each other attractive.” Attractive? What he felt went way beyond attractive. But did he dare tell her that? She was a passionate woman and might be interested only in a physical relationship. That would certainly do for a start, but Russell had known for a long time that he wanted more from Devon Dubois than simple sex. But did she want more? While he longed to make love to her, he knew that he couldn’t hide his true, deeper emotions. Would his devotion prove to be more than she wanted to handle? Would she sense his love for her and be frightened by it? Would she turn him away? She sighed again. But this time she shifted her weight so that she rubbed her backside against him. His arousal ached like the shaft of a well used hammer, quivering from one bang after another. Bang? He groaned as the word brought to mind an image of him banging her. Devon spun suddenly, facing him again, his hands clasped in hers and held behind her back. Once more her breasts pressed against his chest. This time she leaned into him so that he

had to step one foot back to keep from losing his balance. One of Devon’s legs followed his forward and she straddled his other thigh. The heat at her core scorched him through his trousers. “The tango is a brazen dance.” She lifted her dark eyes to his. “It is seductive, a dance of love.” Russell held her gaze without speaking, his thoughts racing around one word. Love. She had said love. Could she sense his true feelings? Did she know how she affected him? How much he wanted to love her? How much he wanted to touch her as a lover would touch her? Suddenly, desperately, he needed to taste her…her mouth, the back of her knee, her nipples and her sweet, slick sex. But not just tonight. He wanted her forever. Could she want the same thing? But could he take her tonight and then let her go if she didn’t want forever too? “I’ve seen you watch me,” she whispered, studying his mouth. “I’ve seen you when you watch me dance.” The heat returned to his face. Damn it, she must think he was some kind of pervert. “I know what you want and I want the same.” Rising on her toes she slid her body up along his thigh. Russell had just a moment to feel the moist heat at the juncture of her thighs before her mouth closed over his. Slick and soft, her lips tugged at his and he found himself filled with the sweet taste of her. Her lush body curved further into his and she tugged his hands further behind her, crossing them over her waist so that his arms truly were full of her. All the while, her leg rose higher along his outer thigh, her foot easing around to embrace his leg. With his arms so full of her, how could Russell do anything but sink into her embrace as he’d fantasized about doing for years? But before he could sink completely, she drew back and looked up at him. A soft yearning in her eyes told Russell that Devon wanted him to take the lead. She wanted him to decide how far they should go tonight. She wanted him to take control. The idea of dominating this strong and beautiful woman turned him on even more. Without allowing himself to think beyond the moment, he yanked her close.

Chapter Five Fancy paced the corridor near the elevator and wished that she could go inside the dance studio and see for herself how much progress Russell was making. But she couldn’t go everywhere within the building. “My own home,” she muttered. “My own building.” She whipped around and paced in the other direction. The music continued to play in the studio down the hall. She looked up at the ceiling. “I’m stuck here haunting this place until I meet my quota but I can’t leave the corridors or the elevator shaft. Do you really think that’s fair?” No one answered, of course. Fancy threw up her hands. Once more she thought back to that rash promise she’d made to Hiram on their wedding night. If only she’d known at the time how she’d regret her words. So happy, so in love as they’d stood beneath the palms that moonlit St. Valentine’s Day night in Hawaii, she’d announced that she wished she could bring together one thousand other lovers in the happiness that she and Hiram shared.

He’d chuckled in her ear as he’d folded his arms around her that balmy night. “That’s a tall order, Mrs. Mitzki. I’m not sure that even you could accomplish it.” “I come from a long line of matchmakers, Mr. Mitzki,” she’d said, lifting her arms to his waist. “I know I can do it.” “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to, Fancy.” She’d seen the amusement in his eyes. “Don’t humor me, Hiram. I’ll bring together one thousand lovers before I go to my final rest. As God is my witness, I promise I’ll match five hundred couples before the two of us celebrate our wedding anniversary together in Heaven!” Such a hasty promise and how it had trapped her. All those years later, when she lay dying of a heart attack in the elevator, Hiram’s spirit had appeared to her. She’d thought he’d come to take her to Heaven but he’d had a message instead. “My love.” He’d smiled his gentle smile and brushed his fingertips to her lips. “You remember the promise you made on our wedding night? About bringing so many lovers together?” While he hovered freely near her, she’d felt the weight of the world holding her in place. “Yes, Hiram. But I can’t do it now that I’ve died.” “You can, Fancy and you must. You swore it to the Almighty.” He’d faded back into a light into which she couldn’t follow. “And you always did keep your promises. I’ll come back for you when you’ve fulfilled your promise. I love you.” And how could she accomplish her goal if the couples didn’t show up? Folding her arms over her chest, she continued to pace and wonder what was going on with Russell and Devon. “This is so frustrating!” she complained to the empty corridor. ***** Russell’s big hands clasped her to him and Devon thought she’d never felt an embrace more enticing. His kiss was not remotely timid. Lips and tongue, even teeth, plundered her in movements so sexual that she almost climaxed right then. He surrounded her with his arms. He devoured her with his mouth. His rigid sex ground against her pubic bone. He was certainly ready. And so was she. She wanted this big, quiet man—under her, on top of her, inside her—any way she could get him. But definitely inside, she thought as she pressed closer to the wonderful length of steel in his trousers, opening her mouth for his ever more aggressive kiss. His tongue swept deeper inside, seeking, exploring. He was definitely taking the lead in this dance of passion and the reality of it energized her, intensifying her pleasure. His big hands slid down her back and over her buttocks. He palmed her cheeks and pulled her hard against him. Her skirt lifted as his fingers tugged at it. The rough wool of his trousers abraded the inside of her left thigh and her arousal intensified with his ever-growing hard-on. She broke their kiss long enough to draw in a shuddering breath. “Russell.” His name held just the right letters to form a guttural moan from the back of her throat. “Yes. Hold me closer.” He responded by tugging her skirt up to her waist and gripping her ass securely through her sheer nylons, pressing her hot, aching mound to his throbbing cock. She rarely wore panties and tonight was no exception. So only that thin film of nude stocking stood between her skin and his trousers. Still that was too much. She wanted to be naked in his embrace. She wanted him naked

against her. But he needed to take them to that point of contact. He needed to take charge of their lovemaking. She needed to know that he could. But as he captured her mouth with his again, languidly tasting her now, she got the impression that he was content to just kiss her. His mouth moved over hers at an almost leisurely pace, his tongue dipping inside to taste her as if savoring a favorite and rare tidbit. And his hands seemed content to roam up and down her thigh, as if he were a blind man trying to read every muscle she had there. But while his kisses and his caresses thrilled her, she wanted more. Catching one of his hands, she placed it on the sash at her waist. She hoped that the little whimper she released carried enough pleading in it to tell him what she wanted. But he simply moaned deep in his throat and continued to kiss her. Frustrated, Devon took the initiative to tug on the sash herself and her dress fell open. Russell lifted his head. He looked down between them, studying her semi-garbed body. Light flared in his eyes. Yes, Devon thought. Oh please, touch me now. He lifted one hand to touch her bare stomach and then his fingers tiptoed up her ribs. Watching his fingers, Devon began to breathe faster, her body quivering in anticipation of his touch upon her breast. She had dreamed of this for so long. Finally he cupped her breast through her bra, his fingertips brushing her nipple through the silk. The peak went instantly alert. Anxious for his complete physical attention, it sent a jolt of need streaking through her. To her delight, he gave that throbbing nub the attention she craved. His finger stroked her there until both of her nipples hardened further, becoming even more visible through the almost sheer silk of her bra. Then he began to twist and tug until the slender thread of pleasure began to wind down from the point of contact to the deeper parts of her body. Devon wanted him so badly she was certain she was leaving a wet spot on his rough trousers. And when his cock twitched, thumping against her lower abs, that wetness increased. His grip on her eased and his finger moved from her breast. “No,” she whispered, almost panting with need. Misunderstanding, he started to draw back from her. Catching his hand, she replaced it on her breast. “Follow the line of dance, Russell,” she whispered, stroking his wide palm across her engorged nipple and then down her bare abdomen. Coaxing him lower, she held his gaze. “Lead me in the dance of passion.” Confusion left his eyes, replaced by that glint of confidence that excited her so. He trailed his hand past the waistband of her pantyhose and tickled one finger over the hollow of her belly button. Then, moving his hand up again, he slipped his fingers inside the band and stripped her pantyhose down below her hips. Yes. She lifted her arms backward so that the sleeves of her dress slid free. The garment wafted to the floor. Her bra followed. Then, stepping back from him for just a moment, she kicked off her shoes and stripped off her stockings. Completely naked, she started to slither up against him again. But he caught her arms and tucked them behind her back. Devon frowned and tried to press against him. “But I want—” “I want,” he interrupted. Devon cocked her head to one side, encouraged by his dominating tone and wondering

what he had in mind. Wondering and wanting whatever it was. “The line of the dance,” he murmured. Releasing her arms, he placed both of his hands on the tops of her breasts. Using just his fingertips, he began to dance his fingers slowly downward. His eyes followed his hands and appreciation began to glow in his face. Devon looked down, following his strokes with her eyes, enjoying each delicate brush of his fingertips against her flesh. He moved with an exquisite slowness that matched the cadence of the music whispering through the air. Desire quickened inside her body. His fingers drew near the areola of her nipples and her flesh prickled there. She drew in a shuddering breath of anticipation. Then, just as he drew near her engorged peaks again, he shifted his track to stroke around the sides of her breasts. Devon gasped as wetness surged within the folds of her sex. She watched her own body quiver and arch into his touch, watched her nipples grow impossibly harder. But he maintained that light touch, stroking and tickling, tempting and teasing. She looked up and saw the confidence continuing to grow in his dark eyes as he watched his own hands move. He was taking control at last and she was more than willing to let him. But oh, oh, how she wanted him to take her nipples in his strong fingers and lift her breasts up to his mouth, to suck her, to devour her. That determined glint entered his eyes again and he looked up at her. She realized what he intended an instant before he flicked both thumbs over her yearning nipples. Like the flare of a match, deeper need sparked inside her. Shuddering breaths became struggling gasps once more and she instinctively arched away from his hands. “I’m not finished,” he murmured and caught her around the waist. Then he turned her and yanked her back up against him. A little “oh” escaped her. And then she forgot how to speak as he placed his fingertips on the underside of each breast. Slowly, he stroked his fingers along that sensitive flesh. Frustration seized her. She wanted him to pinch her nipples again, to roll them between his fingers. She wanted him to turn her to face him again and then to kneel before her and take her aching tips into his mouth. At that thought, the nerves inside her clit tangled into a searing, throbbing knot. Lightheaded at the images flowing through her mind and the sensations streaking through her body, she leaned back against his chest and let his hard body take her weight. When would he take the next step? When would he ease this torture he was exerting on her? And then, across the room, she caught sight of their reflection in the wall-to-wall practice mirror. Her body, pale and slender, appeared a stark, sexual contrast against his clothed, masculine form. She saw his dark eyes fixed on their reflection and the sight sent another flood of need through her. Her body went even slicker with desire and her knees began to quake. She had never known such arousal, not even in her fantasies. In the reflection, she watched his hands stroke up around the outside of her breasts. She watched them tickle down the inside of each of her bare arms. Her flesh prickled again and a delicious buzz swept through her. Gripping her hands he gently drew them around behind him. “Hook your thumbs in my belt loops,” he whispered, brushing his lips against one of her ears. Obeying, Devon watched in the mirror as her torso opened for him. “What…are you going…to do?” She couldn’t speak a complete sentence without pausing to snatch a breath. “Whatever I want,” he whispered. Devon’s hands tightened in his belt loops and she didn’t try to suppress the groan that

shuddered through her at the sight of her body spread bare against his. “La Caminita,” he said, giving the word just the right accent as his hands tiptoed back around to rest on her ribs. “But a walk with a twist. We’re going to step forward together. Ready?” Still staring at their reflection, enthralled by his rapidly growing confidence, Devon nodded. “And,” he whispered near her ear. “One…” His left knee gently pushed her left leg forward in an awkward step. “Two,” he whispered. He moved his right leg, urging her right leg forward with him. Together, one step at a time, they moved toward the mirror. Devon’s body took on more contrast to his—nude to dressed, pale to dark—the closer they came to the glass. He finally stopped her about three feet from the mirror. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, his fingertips strumming her ribs, his gaze stroking her reflection. His words and touch combined with the image before her to send another buzz of passion through her body. She saw his eyes glimmering as he, too, admired their reflection. “I have wanted to do this forever,” he said. “I have dreamed of this.” One of his hands drifted upward while the other drifted down. Fingers closed over one of her aching nipples and Devon nearly wept at the pleasure of his touch. His other hand moved down her body to breach the thatch of hair at the juncture of her thighs. Devon tightened her inner muscles to keep the sudden flood of moisture there from trickling free. His fingers moved further down, his left hand slipping into the folds that hid her sex, his right plucking and stroking her nipple to the rhythm of the music. Devon knew that no dance had ever been so divine. She wanted to close her eyes and surrender to the bliss he strummed through her body but she wanted to watch as well. She wanted to watch her body writhe against his and she wanted to see every move he made as he led her forward in this erotic dance. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her weeping passage and her saturated nerve endings sparked. Devon knew that she would climax quickly and she longed for that release. She wanted to know that he could take her over the top with his mere touch. She wanted to know that he held that power over her. And yet she wanted this sweet torture to last forever. The tempo of his lower hand increased as he continued to tease her sensitive nipple to the beat of the music. Need built inside her, swirling tighter and tighter. All the while, he watched her in the mirror and she could not look away from their performance. This was perfect synchronization. He had perfect form. He took complete control. He possessed total domination over her. His tongue crept out to lap at her earlobe. The coil of need inside her body sprang at last and wave after wave of exquisite, burning sensation rolled through her. She could no longer focus on the reflection before her as moisture filled her eyes and she nearly went blind with pleasure. Her climax was that beautiful. And then, just as she began to settle into that peaceful hollow that followed such a tremendous crest, he whipped her around and pressed his mouth to hers, possessing her with his lips and his teeth and his tongue. Lifting her, he wrapped her legs around his waist as his tongue parted her lips, moving in and out of her mouth in synchrony with the music. Her orgasm continued, accelerated, rolling through her as she ground her dripping folds against the cloth that covered his rock-hard erection. His hands gripped her buttocks, guiding her in the rhythm. And

then, somehow, his cock was free and he was settling her onto him, pushing his thickness inside her wet passage. She cried out against his mouth, climaxing again as his thick head pushed over her clit. Hips, mouth, hands…the music invaded all, synchronizing their body movements into the rhythm of the tango. Russell came to his senses some time later and found that he had somehow made his way to the chair near the door. Devon slumped in his arms, her body a limp blanket over him, her bare legs straddling his lap. Her wet passage still cradled his cock and it pleased him to realize that the old boy had maintained his rigidity. He was more than ready to climb that mountain of pleasure again. But as she sighed and snuggled against him, he decided she needed to rest before they took another trip to the top of the world. The sounds she’d made while climaxing convinced him that she’d come intensely. Even now her heart beat fast and hard. He felt it against his chest, felt his own heart thunder an answer and knew that he also needed to catch his breath. But then he wanted to give her that intense climax again. He wanted to take her up that jagged mountain of sensation until they reached the razor-sharp peak and leaped together over the precipice. He chuckled inside at his musings. Had he always been so poetic after sex? He didn’t think so. Something about this gorgeous, artistic woman brought it out in him. She also brought out a confidence and strength he never knew he possessed and he found that he liked the sensation of being in command of her body in such a carnal way. She lifted her head and fixed her dark eyes on his, a glint of superiority in her expression. “Something amuses you?” she asked. He shook his head. “I’m just happy.” She lifted one eyebrow as she shifted her hips, still holding him deep inside her. “I could make you happier.” He held back a groan. “I don’t know if that’s possible.” But he knew that it was. If she would tell him that she loved him then he would be the happiest man on earth. Reaching for his hands, she caught them and tucked them down at his sides. “Why don’t I just help you out of this suit?” she suggested. Before Russell could answer, she had unknotted his tie and tugged it from around his neck. Her nimble fingers slipped free the buttons on his shirt. The lady apparently didn’t need as much rest as he’d thought. “I’ve fantasized about peeling your clothes off you,” she murmured. That surprised him. Surprised, pleased and aroused. She went on. “Every night when I go to bed I imagine stripping your shirt and coat off your wonderful shoulders.” She imagined making love to him? Need surged inside him but he kept his hands at his sides. He could take her again if he chose to, but not yet. He wanted her quivering on the brink before he pumped himself inside her again. “Tell me. Tell me what you imagine every night.” Her quiver proved that she liked his commanding tone. “First I take off my clothes,” she said, her voice falling to a seductive whisper. “I slide between the sheets and close my eyes. And then I picture your magnificent body. I imagine that I slip my hands under the front of your coat like this.” Russell caught his breath as her hands followed her words and she pushed his coat down his arms. Then her hands returned to rest on his bare chest where his shirt gapped open. Each digit touched him with delicate curiosity and he reacted by swelling inside her tight passage.

“And then I remove your shirt.” Her hands skimmed like silk up and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt after the coat. “Yes,” she whispered, her gaze wandering over the skin she’d revealed. “You have wonderful shoulders. I knew you would.” “I…used to…” What was wrong with his breathing? “Play football.” “I knew you were athletic.” Her hands slid back up his arms to stroke his shoulders. “And your chest…” She touched her fingertips to his pectoral muscles and then skimmed the hair around his flat nipples. They didn’t stay flat for long. “I’ve fantasized too.” He could barely sit still as she stroked his body. An electric energy sizzled through him as she continued to circle his nipples. If this went on much longer he’d rocket right out of the chair. Another smile played at the corners of her mouth. She continued to admire his body as she asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Well…I…” “You’re shy around me,” she answered for him. Her fingers slipped down his ribs, tiptoeing toward the waistband of his trousers. She leaned in close and nibbled on his lower lip. “Unless we’re talking about accounting you can hardly string two words together.” Her tongue lapped at the corners of his mouth while her perfect breasts nuzzled his chest. “I think that’s very sweet.” Russell wasn’t insulted. What she said was true but it didn’t matter. What she was doing to him with her hands and her breasts and her lips and her tongue…and the activity going on down below… “I’m finding…words aren’t…always necessary,” he admitted. He sucked in a breath as both her hands moved between them. Laughing softly, she lowered her feet and lifted herself off his cock. “No, they certainly are not. Lift your ass off the chair.” “Huh?” “I want to take your pants off. Unless you want to keep them on while we make love again.” She chuckled. “But I would much rather have you as naked in my arms as I’ve been in yours.” Gripping the sides of the chair, he pushed himself upward. With a quick, graceful movement, she stripped his trousers down over his butt and under his thighs. As he settled back onto the warm wooden seat of the chair, she rose just enough to part their bodies so that she could push the trousers from between them. Russell heard the coins from his pockets scatter across the wooden floor. He experienced a brief moment of hesitation when he realized they hadn’t used the protection he carried in his wallet. Seconds later he wasn’t paying attention to anything except the rapturous sensation of her hot, wet passage sheathing him again. Devon planted her feet on the floor on either side of the chair and used her calf muscles to lift herself up and down. Hands on his shoulders, she shifted her thumbs to touch the sides of his powerful neck. His pulse beat hot and hard through those corded muscles and it thrilled her to know that she controlled such masculine power. It excited her more to know that she maintained that control only as long as he allowed her to have it. Because the truth was, she was in his complete power. “Oh!” Her head fell back as her climax began to build.

She became aware of him moving beneath her, using his hands on the sides of the chair to give himself some stability as his hips rocked up and down. His cock, buried deep inside her, hardened, thickened, heated. When he blasted off she knew he might burn her. Or would her own hot juices scald her first? “Oh!” she cried again and bounced faster. Her ass slapped against his thighs and her wet passage tightened around him. Sweat popped out on her body and her breasts rubbed slickly against his chest. Her nipples brushed his and—like a thumb to a match—sparked another climax. She heard her own cry and his guttural moans. But it was the friction inside that carried her higher and higher until she exploded.

Chapter Six Fancy relaxed at last as Russell and Devon stepped out of the dance studio, their hands locked together, their eyes focused on each other. Obviously something wonderful had happened between them. “At last.” Fancy clapped her own hands and watched as they headed down the corridor toward the elevator. She didn’t care if this one counted toward her quota or not. Okay, of course she cared. She wanted to finish her mission on this earth and join Hiram. But it did her old heart good to see Russell get his love at last. But if they meant to take the elevator anyway, what harm would it do for her to give love just the tiniest push more? ***** Russell held Devon’s hand as they stepped onto the elevator. He felt like a teenager, confident and strong and immortal. Her grin proved that her mood matched his. She snuggled up to his side, sliding her free hand around the crook of his elbow and pressing her luscious body against his. Beneath her long black coat, he knew that she wore only her dress. No stockings. No bra. “Where shall we go for that bite?” she asked as the elevator doors slid shut. “Your place or mine?” “I think we’d better go to a restaurant.” He pressed the button for the first floor. He looked down into her drowsy eyes. “We might not get anything to eat if we go to either apartment.” “Oh, we’ll get something to eat all right.” She slid her hand down his arm, inside his unbuttoned overcoat and across his lower abdomen. Russell realized what she was reaching for and quickly caught her hand. He hadn’t quite recovered from their last “dance lesson” and he didn’t want her to be disappointed if he couldn’t get it up again so soon. Not that it would take long under her lusty attention. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he nipped at the fleshy mound just under her thumb. Her eyes widened, fixed on his and then her breath caught in her throat. He licked at the spot he’d bitten and then pressed a kiss to her palm. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time. Meeting her gaze, he held it, telling her with his eyes that he wanted to taste other parts of her body. Devon’s lips parted and she began to breathe faster. “I know what I’d like to eat right now,” she murmured.

“Before we do any more of that, I think we’d better get some protection.” He felt her eyes upon his mouth, watching him nibble at her flesh. “Protection?” she said distractedly. “We’ve made love twice now without it.” “I’m on the Pill.” He hesitated, running the tip of his tongue over the mound at the base of her thumb. “There are other concerns.” “Not from me,” she whispered. Pushing her free hand through his hair, she drew back his head and fastened her mouth on his. The heat was just rising in Russell’s face—and the interest in his trousers again—when the elevator lurched to a halt. Devon stumbled against him, knocking him against the wall. Russell looped both arms around her waist. As he settled heavily on the bench along one wall of the elevator, he tugged her down on his lap. With the sudden stop he remembered the sign on the corridor floor. “Shoot, I forgot.” Her eyes grew huge as she stared at him. “Forgot what?” “That the elevator is out of order. There was a sign—” “Out of order?” Panic edged her voice and she drew her knees up, lifting her feet off the floor. “Will it fall?” “No,” he quickly reassured her, surprised by her fear. Surprised and pleased. The sight of her worried eyes and the grip of her hands made him feel protective and strong. The feminine weight of her in his arms didn’t hurt any, either. “It won’t fall. And we’ll be out of here as soon as I call for help.” He was just reaching for the phone when the elevator groaned, shuddered and started to move upward again. He and Devon exchanged puzzled glances as it eased to a stop back on the sixth floor. The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open to reveal a tall, dark-haired man standing in the corridor. Holding a toolbox in one hand, he looked at them from under the brim of an old-fashioned leather cap, apparently as surprised to see them as they were to see him. “Hi,” he said, swiping at a sheen of sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. “You folks been stuck in there long?” “Not even a minute,” Russell answered. Rising, he took Devon’s hand and led her off the elevator. “You here to fix it?” “I thought I was.” The man gave a wry grin. “But I’ve been workin’ on Miss Fancy for the better part of two hours now and I sure as heck can’t find anything wrong with her. Except that she won’t seem to stay where I park her.” Devon laughed huskily and gave Russell’s hand a mild shake. “Miss Fancy. I forgot that old story.” Russell looked down at her. “What old story is that?” Before Devon could answer, the man with the toolbox tipped his cap back on his head and stepped into the elevator. “I’ll bet you two will have a story of your own to tell before the night is over.” With that cryptic statement, he inserted a key into the elevator’s control lock and turned it. “Wait—” Russell started forward but the door slid closed on the other man’s grin. Russell looked back at Devon. “Are you up to taking the stairs or will you trust the service elevator?” Her black hair bounced around her shoulders as she rapidly shook her head. “I’ll pass on

the other elevator, thanks. If this one isn’t working right I’m certainly not going to trust the other. But I’m so hungry, my knees are shaking. I don’t think I can handle the stairs, either.” He lifted one eyebrow and grinned down at her, practically swelling with pride. “I’m sure it’s more than hunger that’s sapped your strength.” She leaned into him and returned his grin with her own seductive version. “I’m sure it is too.” “We could go to my office,” he said. “I think I have some containers of yogurt in the little fridge there.” Devon reached between their bodies and caught his stiffening rod with just enough grip to make his blood rush again. “And I know just what I want to eat it with.” Russell turned on the lights inside his office suite. “So, what did that guy mean about an old story?” Devon held his hand as she followed him into the small kitchen off his waiting room. She glanced around as she stripped off her coat. Neat and clean, as she would have expected of his work space. Accountants were so predictable. She cast a glance up at him. Well, most accountants. This one certainly hid a few wonderful surprises. “You know about Fancy Mitzki, don’t you?” she asked. “The woman who built this place in the early nineteen hundreds?” “I’ve heard of her.” Russell opened a small refrigerator tucked under a counter. “She’s related to our landlady, isn’t she?” “Great-great-grandmother or something.” Devon paused in the kitchen doorway. “Miss Fancy was something of a matchmaker. There’s a legend that her spirit inhabits that old elevator.” Russell frowned over his shoulder at her. “You mean it’s haunted?” Devon laughed at his expression. “I guess you could say that. When it carries two people that Miss Fancy might have worked her matchmaking magic on, it sort of takes over the job.” Russell looked back inside the refrigerator, bending over to peer at the lower shelf. “I don’t understand,” he said. Devon didn’t respond right away. The sight of his backside mesmerized her as he bent over further to rummage inside the refrigerator. So impressive. Tight and muscular, his buns were just right for a woman to grip while he pumped his even more impressive body part inside her. He straightened and turned to face her, yogurt cup in hand. She yanked her gaze upward and blinked her eyes in wide-eyed innocence—as if she hadn’t just mentally fucked him. “How does it take over the job?” he asked, closing the refrigerator door. The gleam in his eyes told her that she hadn’t fooled him for a moment. He obviously knew what she’d been thinking. “It gets stuck with those two people in it.” Tossing her coat over a nearby chair, she clasped her hands behind her back and twisted slowly from side to side. “I think Miss Fancy may have been working on us tonight.” Russell opened a drawer and took out a spoon. “But we weren’t stuck in it for very long. And we’d already…you know.” “That’s true.” She took the yogurt container out of his hand and then turned and led him back into his lobby area. She’d seen a comfortable-looking couch in there as they’d passed

through. It appeared to be the perfect place to…eat. “But the elevator did stop working and because of that you wound up in my studio tonight. That is what happened, right?” “I guess so.” He paused in the doorway as Devon continued on toward the couch. “There was that sign on the floor. And speaking of signs…” Reaching the sofa, intrigued by his hesitation, Devon turned to face him. “What?” His dark eyes reflected his usual serious frame of mind. “I think you should do something about that flyer I found at the gym.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about anything that serious right now.” “It’s important, Devon,” he insisted quietly. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the door frame. “I know what your business means to you and I don’t want you to lose it to this aggressive chain. You have to do something.” It pleased her that he cared so much. Pushing away from the kitchen doorway, he continued on toward her. “Devon, you’ve got to come up with a plan for dealing with Superior Dance Studios.” She raised one eyebrow. “I’ve got to?” He blushed again but didn’t back down. She hadn’t realized how tenacious her accountant could be. Had she unleashed a monster tonight? A sexy, commanding monster who would demand to have his way on any subject or in any situation? Mmm, she thought. “I know what I’m talking about,” he went on. “As soon as I got back to the office with that flyer this afternoon, I read up on the company. Their CEO doesn’t tolerate competition well.” “Neither do I,” she admitted, kicking off her shoes. Despite the fact that his concern touched her heart, she did wish that he would abandon this topic of conversation and turn his attention to something more interesting. Like dribbling some of this yogurt over her bare nipples and then licking it off. “The company has sort of an unwritten mission to drive out anyone who might take even one student from its business,” he continued but his gaze dropped to her legs, proving that he was easily distracted. “But I won’t be taking business from them.” “No, they’ll be taking business from you.” She laughed and, tucking one foot under her, sat on the couch. “Russell, stop being so serious and bring me that spoon. I’m half-starved.” Extending her free hand, she gave him what she hoped was a sexy, come-to-me look. It must have worked, because he carried the spoon to her. But when he held it out, she didn’t grab it. Instead, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him down beside her. Apparently she would have to take the lead again. For a little while. “I’ve done my own research on Superior,” she said, moving to straddle his lap. His eyes widened as she peeled the top off the yogurt carton. “And I know that as soon as they drive out their competition, they raise their prices and often drive themselves out of the local business. They aren’t likely to be around for long.” Spreading her legs wider, she settled her rapidly heating center across his lap and began to rock her body slowly against his. The roughness of his trousers scraped pleasantly against her sensitized flesh. As she moved, she slid her tongue over the yogurt covered top of the container. Strawberry tartness burst over her taste buds. “Mmm. That tastes good.” “I don’t care what happens to them.” Russell placed his hands on her waist, holding her

still as he gave her that serious look again. At least, he tried to give her a serious look. But he couldn’t hide the flash of desire in his eyes. “I care what happens to you, Devon.” Something melted inside her chest. She wasn’t sure but she thought it might be her heart. Going still, tilting her head, she studied his brown eyes. “Do you, Russell?” He slid his hands down and around to her ass and gave her cheeks a gentle squeeze through her skirt. “Yes, I do,” he answered. “I care about you very much.” “As more than a business client?” She continued to hold his gaze, her pulse quickening as she waited for his answer. “As much more than a business client.” Leaning forward, he gave her a small kiss and then his tongue swept out to lick a bit of the yogurt from her lips. “I think I love you,” he whispered. Drawing back from him, Devon stared at him in shock. Soft and warm, his brown eyes looked steadily back at her. Steadily, seriously and hopefully. The obvious truth in his words, his expression, terrified and thrilled her at the same time. She certainly hadn’t expected him to say that. “I care about you too, Russell.” She paused, composing words she’d often wondered if she could ever speak. “I think that if I could love any man, it would be you.” He lifted a hand to trace one of her cheeks with his fingertips. Sadness shadowed his eyes but he smiled. “That’s enough for now,” he said and then his voice took on a more seductive tone and that gleam of desire grew to drive the shadows from his eyes. “Now, are you going to share that yogurt?” Devon thought she might cry. He was sexy, caring and patient. And he had no problem taking the lead as she’d feared he might. A bit of a slow starter, he still possessed stamina and determination. And he’d said he loved her. That meant more coming from him than it had from any of the other men in her life who’d used those words to woo her. Could they be true words? Did she dare believe them? “Would you like me to share it?” she answered, finding herself tempted to share everything with this man. “I insist. Go to your knees in front of me.” His commanding manner sent a shudder through her and she slid backward off his lap to kneel on the floor before him. Russell handed her the spoon. “Take off your dress,” he said as he unzipped his trousers. He slid his pants down and off, watching her as she stripped off her dress again. Within seconds, Devon knelt naked between his bare spread legs, his cock rising proudly in front of her. She dipped the spoon into the yogurt container and lifted out a portion of the fluffy pink cream. Russell sucked in a breath as Devon spooned the cold yogurt over his hot, aching cock. An even harsher breath followed when she chased the spoon with her warm, wet tongue. The sensation of cold followed by heat sucked every ounce of oxygen out of his lungs. A groan shuddered up from him as she licked the pink yogurt off his burning head. “You like that?” she asked, her voice a soft invitation as she sat back and spooned up more yogurt. “Oh…yeah,” he managed to say, overwhelmed by physical and emotional sensations. He’d told her he loved her and she hadn’t bolted. She’d said she might be able to love him too.

Could his ultimate fantasy come true? Could she be his? Completely and forever? She’d said “I think…” But he was a patient man. He could wait for her to be sure. Until then he meant to enjoy every moment she gave him. He meant to show her his love with his body. Tilting her head, she held the spoon over his throbbing shaft, watching the yogurt move down the bowl of stainless steel. Russell’s gaze fixed on it too. The creamy pinkness slid so slowly that his cock twitched in anticipation and his mouth began to water. And then the chilly mass oozed over his hot flesh and trailed a pink course down his shaft. His entire body stiffened and then his cock went even more rigid as her hot mouth closed over him again. Her tongue swirled around his throbbing head and then she began to suck at him. Blood rushed into his shaft, engorging him and shooting ripples of need through his gut. His balls tightened and grew heavy and her chin bumped against them as she continued to suck and swirl and taste. That contact and the drawing of her hot, moist mouth threatened to send him over the edge. But when he went, he wanted to take her with him. To do that, he needed to make sure she came as close to the edge as he was. Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her firmly back. Her mouth released him with a pop. Groaning at the sound and sensation, he lifted her up to straddle his lap once more. “Give me the yogurt,” he ordered as he spread her legs and nestled his throbbing cock against the curl-covered folds of her sex. But he didn’t try to enter her. Not just yet. Lifting one eyebrow in curiosity, she handed him the container. When she offered the spoon as well, he pushed her hand away. Then he dipped two fingers of one hand into the yogurt container and scooped out what looked like a small mouthful. “Put your hands behind you, on top of my knees and lean back,” he said. He felt her thighs quiver as she obeyed. The position caused her breasts to lift toward him. Just what he wanted. Lifting his fingers, he let the yogurt slide slowly onto one rigid nipple. She gasped and jerked as the cold, sticky mass slid over the taut peak. He clamped the sticky fingers of his other hand onto her shoulder, holding her still. Then, visually taking in the tempting, cream-coated morsel before him, he slid his hand over her shoulder and down her back, smearing pink finger marks across her skin. He drew her closer. Her breasts rose and fell in shuddering movements as she struggled to catch her breath. Russell enjoyed watching her, knowing that it was his attention that excited her, that anticipation of what he wanted to do had her breathing so raggedly. His own anticipation swelled and urged him to lean forward, drawing her body to meet his hungry mouth. A groan shuddered out of her as his mouth closed over her yogurt-covered nipple. He couldn’t prove that her pleasure equaled his but it must come close. She tasted sweet, her flesh adding an exotic flavor to the strawberry of the yogurt. But it was the touch of her beneath his tongue that nearly undid him. The hard little bud nestled in the bowl of his tongue and then slid around beneath it as he lapped and sucked. A slight sharp pain hit him as her fingernails dug into his knees. Growling with need, he released her breast and yanked her close, crushing his mouth to hers as his cock pressed between her sexual lips. The scent of strawberries filled his nose. The taste bloomed within his mouth as he pushed his tongue past her sticky lips to taste the inside of her. He wanted to know every inch of her body, her heart, her soul. For as long as she would let him. She moaned and sank into his kiss, moving forward on her knees to get closer to him. Releasing her grip on his legs, she squirmed and rubbed against him. But he held her off and a

few seconds later she knew why. She felt the cold creaminess of his yogurt-covered finger slide between the lips of her labia. Before she could even gasp at the delightful sensation, he’d broken their kiss and turned their bodies so that his face burrowed between her legs, his tongue sliding out to lap up the strawberry cream he’d filled her with. She nearly screamed as the heat from his tongue melted the yogurt and he scooped it into his mouth, along with a liberal helping of her own cream. He groaned like she did when she ate chocolate truffles and then he began to devour her in earnest, licking and sucking until need twisted every nerve in her body and she couldn’t stand any more. Some male instinct must have told him she was about to explode for he rose suddenly and turned their bodies again. Sliding his hands down her back, he gripped her ass and lifted her, impaling her on his hungry cock. Shudders ran through him as her heat sheathed him. Somehow he found the strength and coordination to turn so that she lay beneath him on the sofa. Still kissing her, he reached between them to grip himself. He stroked the head of his cock between the lips of her sex, teasing her toward the brink. Then as he felt the quivers begin in her abdominal muscles, he speared into her, stretching her passage until he filled her completely. She groaned and writhed beneath him and then tore her mouth free of his. “Russell.” She gasped. “I…” He continued to pump his hips as he looked into her dark eyes. He couldn’t speak. “I…” She wet her lips, arched her back, lifted her body to meet his stroke for stroke. “I…love…you!” His heart exploded with joy and he pushed himself deeper inside her. Her moist heat mingled with the traces of yogurt left on his cock, filling the air with an exotic and arousing scent and then he was climbing again. Climbing, leaping, soaring. He heard her cry out as she followed his lead.

Chapter Seven Still lingering near the elevator, Fancy heard Devon cry out from down the corridor. She recognized the sound as one of passion. As confident as she could be that Devon was well on her way to falling in love with Russell—and what woman wouldn’t fall for such a fine young man who obviously knew more about making love than even she had thought?—Fancy returned to the elevator shaft. The night was growing old. Midnight waited just around the corner and she still hadn’t reached her quota. If she missed her goal tonight, she feared she’d never reach Heaven with Hiram. She considered what to do next as she swooped down the elevator shaft to the first floor and out into the lobby. More couples and groups left the club now than came into it, causing panic to tickle at Fancy’s mood. Then she saw her great-great-great-great-grandson come in from the snowy night. Alex paused a moment just inside the doorway, then shook the snowflakes out of his black hair. He headed toward the elevator. Seeing him reminded Fancy of the party going on in his apartment on the tenth floor. Perhaps she’d find some opportunity for matchmaking there. Following him back to the elevator, she didn’t wait as he pressed the call button. Instead she shot back up the shaft. “Most of those folks already have dates but there are bound to be a few single people

leaving the party sooner or later.” As she drew near the top floor of the building, she heard music. Far different from the seductive Latin beat she’d heard coming from Devon’s studio, this music grew louder the closer Fancy got to her destination. She frowned as she realized that her great-great-great-great-grandson’s party had gotten out of control. Again. Alex was a good boy, but he needed to control his friends. Or find something to occupy his time more fruitfully than wild parties. Passing through the elevator doors onto the tenth floor, she pulled up short. A grin spread over her face. “I think I see just the thing,” she murmured and drifted toward the young woman standing at the door to her descendant’s apartment. ***** Pepper McKay bruised the side of her fist pounding on Alex Mitzki’s penthouse door. Seconds passed. No one answered. They’re probably all stoned, she thought, listening to the thump-thump of music pounding beyond that door. “Dang rock stars and their loud parties!” An unexpected chill coursed through her, intensifying her aggravation. “Enough is enough,” she muttered. Whirling around, she marched across the hallway to the elevator and jabbed the downward call button. “I’ll just let the cops deal with this…this disturbance of the peace!” She could’ve used a much harder series of words—several shot through her mind—but she refused to descend to his level. Clenching her fists at her sides, she stared down at her sneakers and tried to ignore the rhythm that shook the walls around her. Fast and jarring to the senses, it was intolerable. And he dared to call that noise music! The elevator doors slid open. Head still down, Pepper walked into the elevator—and smack into what felt like a solid wall. Only five foot two and one hundred five pounds, she bounced off that hard surface. She’d have fallen back flat on her butt if two hands hadn’t caught her by her elbows. “Leaving the party so soon?” The deep voice brought her head up fast. Her anger mingled with something else as she recognized the object of her irritation. “Mitzki,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Guilty,” he answered, releasing her as if she was a foil-wrapped potato hot out of the oven. “Considering you weren’t actually invited to my party, aren’t you on the wrong floor?” “I was just on my way down,” she snapped back. “Well don’t let me slow you.” Those angry words streamed through Pepper’s mind again. How she wanted to tell him off. But for some reason, she couldn’t catch her breath enough to say anything else. Some reason? whispered a little voice inside her head. You know the reason, Pepper. Stripping off his leather jacket, Alex slung it over one shoulder by a single long finger. Amusement curled the corners of a mouth that almost every woman between sixteen and twenty-five found sexy. But Pepper didn’t find it sexy. Not a bit. Uh-uh. She found it smug and arrogant and just a little too soft to be manly. Yeah right, whispered that little voice again. Tell that to your dreams.

Surrounded by a stubble of beard, his mouth looked even softer. And his almost-lack eyes with their lush lashes and lazy, just-been-bedded look softened his expression further. Unlike the rest of him, she realized. No soft spot showed anywhere on the rest of Alex Mitzki’s body. His angular face and muscular biceps with black and red geometric tattoos revealed a lean hardness. And then there was his T-shirt-clad chest…as of three seconds ago, she had the bruised ribs to prove it didn’t sport an inch of softness. “Can I do something for you, Pepper?” he asked, pausing on her name. Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Better men than him had made fun of her name so she wasn’t about to let him get under her skin on such an inconsequential matter. “You can turn down that damn noise!” she snapped, angry that he already burrowed under her skin in a most inconvenient way. Angry at herself as much as at him. His eyes glimmered beneath lush black eyebrows. “I did turn it down. Just after you called. But I had to leave for a—” “Someone turned it back up again,” she interrupted and then paused to take a deep breath and get control of her temper. But the raging headache from listening to the thump-thump of his party for the past hour made gaining control difficult. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, gazing down at her with those glimmering eyes. Fascinating eyes. Spellbinding. Hypnotic… Feeling the pull of that dark gaze deep inside her, Pepper forced her own eyes away. She gave her head a quick shake and then settled her hands on her hips as she focused on the center of his forehead. “Well?” she demanded. “Well, I can’t do anything until I get off the elevator.” His deep voice moved slowly around her, like a silken coil that somehow soaked through her skin to embrace her female parts. That voice was almost as mesmerizing as his eyes. “And I can’t get off the elevator until you step out of my way,” he continued when she didn’t move. “Oh.” Embarrassment burned her face. She quickly stepped to one side, placing herself in the corner of the elevator near the control panel. But before he could step off the car, the elevator doors slid shut with surprising speed. Giving a jolt, the car started down. Pepper stumbled again. But when he reached to steady her, she pushed his hands aside and righted herself. “I don’t need your help.” “Sorry.” He opened his hands, palms out and backed off a step. Then, reaching out one of those long fingers that were so nimble with a guitar—she knew because she’d attended several of his concerts and she owned all of his albums—he pressed the button for the ninth floor. Her floor. “I assume you’re going back to your apartment,” he said when she glanced curiously at him. “That’s right.” She folded her arms over her chest, determined to defend herself against his seductive presence as well as her own rapidly weakening resistance to it. She was angry at him and she needed to remember that. She certainly did not need to remember how his music normally affected her, arousing and energizing in a sensual way. At least it affected her that way before she moved into his building and learned what a noisy jerk he could be. “And just so you know,” she went on, “I am trying to work tonight so the noise from your party is very distracting. Just like it was two nights ago and two nights before that.” “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll take care of it for good this time. Neither I nor my party will

bother you again.” “Good. Then we won’t have to speak to each other again tonight.” A breath of cold air swept under her skirt, making her realize how warm she’d become since walking into him. A fine film of sweat had actually formed along the insides of her thighs. Taking another deep breath, she also realized that she sounded really bitchy. After all, he did turn down the music when she’d called before. Maybe she should let go of some of her anger. Such a harsh emotion certainly wouldn’t let her work even after the irritating noise of his party abated. “I mean…thanks,” she said, aware of how petulant she sounded. She took another breath and went on in a softer tone. Mama always told her it was easier to catch flies with sugar than with vinegar. If only she could remember that around him. “I appreciate it.” “You’re welcome.” He continued to smile down at her and that other kind of discomfort rolled through her. It wasn’t that she thought him handsome—although God knew that he was—or that she thought him arrogant—although she had never known him not to be arrogant. Arrogance came as part of the rock star package, after all. It wasn’t even the fact that she knew his opinion of classical musicians like herself—”unimaginative and inhibited and stuck on the safe track,” he’d recently said in a television interview. That interview certainly hurt her feelings but that wasn’t what had her all hot and bothered her now. No, what bothered her was that he had a way of looking deep inside her whenever they met, his dark eyes piercing her own blue ones. They’d met face to face exactly six times now—yes, she’d counted—and each time Pepper experienced a sense of having been “known” in a way no other human being had known her before. Although the world considered him a rock star, she feared he was really some kind of magician or mind reader and that he could look right inside her head. If he did that he would no doubt see that the anger she exhibited merely masked her lust. Like all those other women—as much as she hated to admit it—she had fallen under the man’s sensuous musical spell. And that was her real problem. She found him alluring in a way he could never find a meek, classical musician like herself. The opposite of any man she’d ever been attracted to—unpolished, bold and shamelessly sexual in performance—he was the same man off-stage as on. From his hypnotic eyes to his magic hands to his sensual voice, Pepper wanted him all to herself. But she knew she wasn’t his type. Disgusted with her weakness, she turned to face the elevator doors. Despite the etching in the glass panels, she saw by his reflection that he continued to watch her, his gaze traveling in a slow trace of her body. And something else gleamed in his eyes now that he thought she wasn’t looking at him. A sensual kind of hunger, it brought a sharp, almost wolfish light to his dark eyes and a flush high up on his cheeks. Surprise hit her, followed quickly by a dose of reality. He probably looked at all women with hungry eyes as part of his persona, his stage presence. He’d probably worn that look for so long that he didn’t even think about it. Because the truth was that a man like him could never be interested in a woman like her. Alex pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Only by tucking his fingers away could he keep them from touching her again. Pepper McKay had the softest skin of any woman he’d ever known. Just touching her arms when she’d barreled into him had made his fingers itch

to handle other parts of her. Tiny and compact and sweetly pink, she reminded him of some kind of sugary confection with that shimmering blonde hair and her penchant for wearing brief, pastel-colored outfits. Tonight, she wore a soft yellow cotton shirt with straps the width of spaghetti under a loose-weave yellow sweater that kept falling off her left shoulder. She also wore a short baby-blue denim skirt. The outfit was totally inappropriate for a snowy winter night but then, she’d said she’d been in her apartment working. The color of the skirt matched her eyes, he realized, allowing himself to keep looking her over. After all the red dresses he’d seen this St. Valentine’s Day, he found her attire refreshing. His gaze shifted. Her breasts rose pale and round above the low, scalloped neckline of the shirt. No doubt those breasts would melt in his mouth like cotton candy. He couldn’t stop the low groan that shuddered up from his chest at that thought, so he covered it by loudly clearing his throat. Looking up from her breasts, he met her eyes in the reflective surface of the glass on one of the elevator doors. Her cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink and she looked quickly down at her shoes. He realized that she’d seen him ogling her in the glass. Disgust hit him. Had he gone so long without sex—in spite of constant temptation—that he’d force his attentions on a woman he hardly knew? A—what was a good word—proper lady? A lady who obviously considered him some kind of coarse-mannered barbarian. Alex started to look down at her shoes, to focus his attention on something non-sexy, but her curves completely distracted him. Despite her scant clothing, she presented the polished appearance of a classical pianist that she had become. Her back snapped straight and her chin set at just the right angle while the rest of her luscious body… Damn it. The contradiction only made him lust more to have her and made him feel worse about that lust. Damn, Sophia, he berated his sister in his mind. Why did you have to rent an apartment to this confusing little minx? And damn me for leaving that damn party! He tightened his fists inside the pockets of his jeans. He’d told his guests he was going out for some cigarettes even though he’d given up smoking months ago. He’d spent the past hour walking around in the snowy Manhattan night. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he was tired of the party, tired of his friends, tired of the strangers who invaded his home yet again. But he couldn’t hide the truth from himself. Frankly, his fast-paced lifestyle bored him. He’d been living for too many years and he’d needed at least a moment of peace that was not attainable in that place at that time. And his search for peace had led him here and now. The elevator groaned to a halt on the ninth floor and the doors slowly opened. Pepper looked over her shoulder without meeting his gaze again. Long pale eyelashes hid the blue in her eyes. “Please don’t make me call the police about this,” she said quietly. The possibility of having to deal with cops over a little noise didn’t scare him. He’d done it before. He’d no doubt do it again when his party guests got out of control, as they often did. But most of the local cops were fans and so he’d never suffered more than a friendly warning. And he’d always turned down the volume or ended the party when asked to do so. “Yes, ma’am,” he quipped, trying to hide his attraction to her behind sarcasm. She raised her head at last and her eyes narrowed in fury, the baby blue in her irises sharpening to an icy shade that practically shot sparks. He grinned at the sight. Her anger only made her more beautiful, more delectable, more irresistible.

But, obviously, in her eyes, he was quite resistible. After all, he was just a rock star. Still glaring at him over her shoulder, she started to step toward the elevator doors. A chill rushed through Alex. Over her blonde head, he saw the doors start to close rapidly. Reaching out, he caught one of her arms and tugged her back before she could be caught by the doors. “Look out,” he said as the doors slammed shut. Pepper stiffened, her body tight against his, her shoulder digging into the center of his chest. But before she could protest his grip, the elevator doors bounced open, paused and then slammed shut again, rattling the glass panels. Both of them stared as the doors did it yet a third time. “Oh my,” Pepper said, her words little more than a breath. Alex tried to figure out how she might get off the elevator when the doors wouldn’t stay open long enough for her to pass between them. But it was damned hard to focus on anything with her sweet little body tucked up so close to his and those breasts jiggling so enticingly under her tiny shirt. And her hip butted up against his aching crotch. And her warm, sugary scent wafting around him. And then the whole elevator shuddered and he suspected that both of them needed to get off that car before something really bad happened. “Timing,” he said, lifting his free hand to her other arm. “As musicians, we both know about timing, don’t we, Pepper?” Before she could answer, the doors opened again and he pushed her through the breach. A tiny squeal erupted from her and he saw her stumble on the carpet before the doors slammed shut again. “One, two, three…” The doors swept open and Alex leaped through to the corridor. The doors slammed behind him. And didn’t open again. Pepper glared up at Alex from where she’d fallen on the floor. Her right wrist burned inside and out and she knew that she’d sprained it. There went any hope of completing her composition this weekend. “What did you do that for?” she complained, cradling her wrist as she sat up slowly. The pain brought tears to her eyes. Or maybe it frustration made her eyes blur so that she could barely make out his large, dark shape standing over her. “In case you didn’t notice, that elevator was freaking out. I thought we’d both be safer out here.” “Did you have to push me so hard?” “Would you rather have been decapitated by those doors? Or maybe lose a hand or foot?” Her vision cleared as she blinked and she found herself looking into his eyes. The gleam there affected her more than the grisly image his words conjured. It was a hungry gleam, as if he wanted to eat her up. The sight of it almost made her forget the pain in her wrist. But then she remembered who she was—Little Miss Vanilla—and the throbbing in her arm quickly dispelled his affect on her. She cradled her arm against her stomach. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly silky with concern. “My wrist. I think I sprained it.” “Let me see.” Kneeling beside her, he took her right arm in his hands and pushed up the baggy sleeve of her sweater.

Pepper fought the urge to pull away from his warm, questing fingers. She fought harder to keep from throwing herself into his arms as his touch sent waves of heat washing through the rest of her body. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. She’d been with a few men. But the intensity of this arousal beat anything she’d experienced with any other man. And it felt wonderful. Dang it! “I should let someone know about that elevator and then we need to get some ice on this,” he said. He released her arm almost reluctantly. Then, slipping one of his arms around her waist, he lifted her as if she weighed less than a feather and set her gently on her feet. For an instant, he stood there and held her. Pepper’s heart pounded and she wondered if he felt its vibration between their bodies. Before she could wonder for very long, he pulled away and took a step backward. “You have ice in your apartment?” She nodded, overwhelmed by too many physical and emotional sensations for speech. Being touched by him—physically, emotionally or sexually—had not been her intention when she’d stormed down to his apartment. Had it? “Come on,” he said and started walking ahead of her down the corridor. As Pepper followed him, he pulled his cell phone off the clip at his waist. Through the haze of sensation surrounding her, she watched him push one button on his phone. The action connected him quickly to whomever he was calling. “Hey, it’s me,” he said into the phone. “Listen, something’s wrong with Miss Fancy again.” Miss Fancy? Pepper frowned. Who the heck is Miss Fancy? “No, I didn’t see any sign on the door downstairs.” He glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “There’s not one on ninth floor door either. But I do see a piece of paper on the floor. I’ll check it out in a few.” They reached Pepper’s door and Alex met her gaze as he went on into the phone, “I’m fine. But I suggest you talk to your elevator repairman about using a better quality tape to attach his warning signs.” He smiled. “Me too. Later.” He turned off his phone and explained, “My sister, Sophia. She runs the building.” “Oh.” Pepper remembered the tall, beautiful black-haired woman from when she’d rented her apartment a couple of months earlier. “She’s called a repairman for the elevator?” “Apparently the guy’s already been here for several hours. He’s got the elevator working off and on.” He touched her elbow again but lightly, not gripping it this time. “Let’s get you inside and get that ice.” “I can take care of it myself,” she said, stepping away from his disturbing touch. “You can go.” “This is my fault,” he admitted, standing his ground. “I want to make sure you haven’t broken your wrist.” Panic shot through her again at the thought of him inside her apartment. But she got a grip on herself. He wasn’t going to jump her bones. She wasn’t going to jump his. No one was going to touch anyone’s…anything. “It’s not broken,” she said, not entirely convinced that she could trust herself, especially if he his interest ran as deep as his earlier expression had indicated. “I know what a break feels like because I broke my ankle when I was a kid. This is just a sprain. I’m fine.” “You’re not fine. I’m responsible so just let me make sure you’re okay.” He gripped her

doorknob which, of course, didn’t turn. He looked back at her. “Keys?” “In my pocket.” She started to reach into the right pocket of her skirt but realized she couldn’t with her sprained wrist. Awkwardly, she tried to reach in with her left hand. “I’ll get them,” he said. Before she could stop him, he pushed one of his big hands into her pocket. Pepper gasped as his hand brushed down her thigh, separated from her skin only by a thin layer of denim. A match to a tinder box couldn’t have sparked a more intense flame up her leg and into the area above her groin. Looking up, she saw those black eyes of his locked again with hers. For a moment, his hand went still. Pepper knew instantly that his thoughts were following the same track hers had started down. In fact, the gleam in his dark eyes warned her that he was already a few steps ahead on that path. Okay, so maybe it didn’t matter that she wasn’t his type. Maybe anything female qualified as “his type”. “I’m, uh…sorry,” he said and then began to fumble quickly for her keys. With each movement of his fingers, the flame inside her flared hotter despite the fact that he wasn’t touching her bare skin nor were his fingers moving anywhere near anything important. “Got ’em,” he said at last and tugged her keys out of her pocket. He shoved the right key into the lock and gave it a twist. “You go on inside while I put that sign back up on the elevator door.” As he pushed her apartment door open, Pepper’s knees trembled from the intensity of her arousal. But why, of all the men in the world, did she have to be attracted to him? And what would he do—with her, to her—once they were alone inside her apartment?

Chapter Eight Returning from hanging the “out of order” sign on the elevator door, Alex entered Pepper’s apartment, closed the door and then hesitated. What the hell am I doing? A smart man would turn around, get back on that elevator and—well, that just proved he wasn’t a smart man. The damn elevator didn’t work. Get a grip, man. Just make sure she’s all right and then use the damn stairs. Alex glanced around her apartment. He noticed immediately that she was right about the party. He could hear every beat of the bass playing off his stereo system upstairs. The vibrations made a couple of framed mirrors shake against her wall. He loved music but he could imagine that this noise would drive a quiet person like her nuts. Especially if she was trying to work on one of her compositions. Alex rarely needed to pay much attention to the noise level before because the apartment’s previous tenant had been a half-deaf octogenarian who’d apparently never noticed any sound from above. His gaze fell on the grand piano that took up most of the space in Pepper’s living room. A lit lamp stood on top of it, along with a half-empty glass of wine and a saucer that held the remains of a cookie. That explained her sugary scent. Sheets of music stood on the music rack and a pencil lay near them. She had been trying to work. He heard a muffled clatter from off to his left. Dropping his jacket on the piano bench, he headed in that direction. “I didn’t realize sound carried so far in this building,” he said, joining her in the small

kitchen. “Not all sound,” she said, fumbling to remove some ice cubes from a plastic tray. A cookie sheet sat on top of the stove, a few chocolate chip cookies lying on it. Crumbs scattered over the counter near a blue and white gingham dish towel that hung over the sink. “Just the bass part of the music usually. But tonight it all just—” Ice cubes clattered across the counter, skittering through the crumbs, across the dishtowel and into the sink with several loud clunks. “Let me do that.” He strode forward to take over the task of making an ice pack. But he took care not to touch her again. One brush against her, he knew, would melt any ice in his hands. Cracking the ice free with a twist of his wrists, he tumbled the cubes into another dishtowel she had spread on the counter. He rolled the ice in the towel and then carried it to the small kitchen table. “Sit down and rest your wrist on this,” he said. Pepper obeyed without arguing, a sure sign that she was in real pain. One more reason not to give in to the lust building inside him. “Do you have any aspirin or ibuprofen?” he asked, wishing he could tumble a few chunks of ice down the front of his jeans. “In that cabinet next to the refrigerator,” she answered, gently folding the towel around her injured wrist. Alex found a bottle of painkiller where she’d indicated and then filled a glass with water. He carried everything to the table for her and opened the bottle. “Swallow that down,” he said, handing her two tablets. Pepper took the painkiller and drained the glass of water. As she set the glass on the table, Alex tucked the ice pack more securely around her swollen wrist. Her hand lay still, the pink-painted tips of her fingers as enticing as the rest of her sweet body. He could imagine those digits stroking up and down his— “That does feel good,” she said, her voice barely audible above the noise from his apartment. With her free hand, she tugged her sweater back up on her shoulder. “Thanks.” “My pleasure.” Horny as hell, he looked past her to a door at the rear of her kitchen. “Does that lead to your balcony?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. Why?” “My balcony is just above yours.” Opening the door, he stepped outside. He took a moment to draw in a couple of lungfuls of the snowy night air and then looked up. Louder now, music spilled down from his apartment. Damn, but it was much more annoying than he could’ve imagined. It amazed him that none of the other neighbors had called the cops. Leaning out, he looked up. He could just see the hands of some of his party guests resting on the rail. By the big gold pinky ring on one of those hands, he recognized his drummer, Jimmy Mills. “Hey, Jimmy!” He cupped a hand to his mouth. “Jimmy!” Two heads appeared over the rail. One belonged to a young woman Alex didn’t recognize while Jimmy’s ragged blond hair framed his fleshy young face. “Alex, old buddy!” Jimmy grinned down at him. “Watcha doin’ down there?” “I’m visiting a friend,” Alex called back. “Do me a favor, will you and turn down the music?” “But it’s just right, man. That’s our new single and we want to—” “Please, Jimmy? It’s way too loud.”

Jimmy nodded and drew out of sight. As Alex stepped back inside Pepper’s kitchen, the volume of the music fell to a more tolerable level. She looked up at him as he closed the door. A weary smile curved her luscious lips. “Thank you.” “No problem.” Damn it. That brief sojourn into the cold hadn’t cooled his libido one degree. “I’m just sorry your work was interrupted.” “Thanks.” Holding the ice pack around her wrist, she stood up and headed back into the living room. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to get back to your guests now.” Alex followed her, dragging his heels. His party was more a bore than a celebration of his new album or even of St. Valentine’s Day. Despite the apartment full of people, Alex had found himself pretty lonely tonight. But since he’d run into Pepper that sense of loneliness had faded, replaced by something far more pleasant. “They’re having plenty of fun without me,” he said, wishing she would invite him to stay for a while, knowing that she wouldn’t because she obviously didn’t like him. He wondered if he could get her to like him. Pausing next to her piano, she looked back at him. Her fair eyebrows lowered as if his words confused her. “But you’re the host. I’m sure they’ll have more fun with you.” “Ah but will I have any fun with them?” Before she could answer, he smiled again, desperate suddenly for her to like him. “I’d really rather hang out here for a few minutes, if that’s okay.” Her eyes widened and then quickly narrowed. “Why would you want to do that?” He lifted one shoulder. “I’m in the mood for a little peace and quiet.” She lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. “It is better but I wouldn’t call it peaceful or quiet in here.” Still smiling, Alex reached around her to pick up the sheet of music that rested on the piano stand. If she asked him to leave, he would. But if she didn’t come right out and say it… “Is this what you’ve been working on?” he asked, looking down at the music. “Yes.” The composition on the page caught his imagination. The way the notes rose and fell… Pushing aside the leather jacket that he’d dropped on the piano bench, he sat down. “This looks interesting,” he said, replacing the sheet on the rack. He settled his fingers on the keyboard. “It isn’t finished,” she said and started to take the music from him. He touched his left hand to hers, stopping her. Their eyes met and held. He saw a flare of panic in hers, followed by a more sustained glimmer of interest. He’d seen the latter before in many adoring female eyes. But Pepper quickly shut it down. The fact that she fought her attraction to him aroused more than his curiosity. That never happened. He wasn’t a man who took advantage of the young women who stole into his dressing room backstage at concerts or into his hotel room, their eyes shining with desire. But he was tempted in this case. So tempted that he couldn’t help stroking her fingers. They were as soft as her arm and he found himself wondering again just how soft the more intimate parts of her body might feel. “Do you mind?” he whispered, unsure if he meant the music or touching her. She went very still, as if holding her breath and then slowly lowered her hand to her side. Unnerved by his need to touch this woman who was so different from most women he met—unnerved and intrigued—Alex faced the piano. Laying his hands on the keys, he began to

play. The muscles in Pepper’s stomach knotted. Nerves throughout her body tingled. Alex Mitzki was touching her piano, which was like touching her body. He was playing her music, which was like touching her soul. She hugged her sprained wrist to her stomach with her other arm. Ice soaked through the towel and into her shirt, melting—no doubt—from the heat of her body. She’d never been so turned on in her life. Dang it! Why didn’t I lock the door when he went to hang the sign on the elevator? Why did I let him in? His fingers tickled up the ivory keys at a pace just slower than the one she’d intended the piece to follow, picking out the melody with the ease of someone who knew his way around a piano. That surprised her. She’d seen him strum a guitar onstage and in music videos. But she’d never expected him to have a feeling for finer music…or an ability to play it. Not only did he have the feel and the ability but he possessed the talent, as well. He captured the mood of what she’d written with little effort. That ability intrigued her. Reaching the end of the first page, Alex stopped playing and looked up at her. Awe lit his dark eyes. “Wow,” he said quietly. Pepper nibbled on her lower lip. She didn’t want to admit that his opinion mattered. It couldn’t matter. He’d made it clear that he held a low view of classical musicians so whatever he might say about her composition couldn’t carry any weight at all. But it did matter. Her roiling emotions related to something deeper in her nature than his disturbing the peace or interfering with her work or even with her own sexual attraction to him. She often wondered if—in spite of her joy in it—her music was relevant in this day and age. It would be interesting to hear the opinion of a man who played such popular music. And so she hesitantly asked, “What do you think?” “I think it’s wonderful.” Facing the piano, he turned the pages, studying the notes she’d written. “It’s rhythmic and contemporary and…honestly, it’s very sensuous.” Relief bolted through her. Pride mingled with it. “You really think so?” “Oh yeah.” His brows creased briefly as he continued to study the pages. “It’s missing something though.” “I thought so too but I couldn’t think…well…” She gave a little shrug. “With the noise from your apartment.” He drew his hands into his lap and sat very still, looking down at his fingers. “Now that it’s quieter maybe you can figure out what it needs.” “I hope so.” She found herself looking down too, watching his long fingers as they bent and straightened against the thighs of his jeans. She wondered what they would feel like against her thighs. Her bare thighs. His fingers playing one of his own personal rock rhythms upon her naked flesh. Suddenly it occurred to her that while he had complimented her music, she’d just called his music “noise”. Again. To his face. Great, Pepper. You just insulted the man’s livelihood. Well, whispered a nasty little voice inside her head. It isn’t as if he didn’t insult your type of music the other day. And on television! But he’d waited for her permission before playing her music just now. She hadn’t thought he could be that polite. After all he was a bad boy rocker.

Right? “Um…I’m sorry,” she said quietly, looking at his downcast head, trying to put aside the attraction that could go nowhere. “That was rude of me. I really…well, I actually kind of like your music too. Some of it.” He lifted his head and his eyes narrowed with surprise. “Really?” Hesitantly, she admitted, “I’ve even been to a couple of your concerts.” That brought a grin back to his face. But it wasn’t an egotistical grin as she would’ve expected. Instead it revealed a simple pleasure at her words. And, impossibly, that sign of pleasure turned her on even more. She wanted suddenly to do whatever she could to increase his pleasure. And her own at the same time. “Thanks,” he said. He gestured toward her sheet of music. “How long have you been writing?” “I’ve always played around with compositions,” she said, trying to get a grip on her rampaging emotions. “But only seriously in the past year or so.” “You’ve had a couple of pieces published.” It surprised her that he knew. “Yes. Several orchestras around the country have played them.” “I heard one of your pieces performed down in Houston when I was there a few weeks ago. They have a great orchestra there. It must be exciting to have a world-class organization play your work.” She stared at him, totally surprised by his admission. He had heard her work performed. How…unexpected. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, very exciting.” “And this piece?” She lifted her left hand and touched her fingertips to the page, trying to ground herself in her own work. “I had hoped to finish it this weekend. Now that I’ve hurt my wrist I probably won’t be able to.” She watched his hands rise from his lap and move slowly toward her body. Something twitched inside her, as if some muscle instinctively tightened to draw her away. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Taking her right hand, he lifted it and cradled it between both of his, gently holding the ice pack in place. “It’s my fault,” he quietly said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Pepper.” She believed him. That silky, masculine voice couldn’t be anything but sincere. At least three number one hit songs proved that. More importantly, his dark eyes proved it. His gentle touch proved it. A touch that she wished suddenly would prove even more. “Thanks,” she answered, afraid of where her own thoughts might take her. This man was so unlike other men she knew. Despite his current gentle mood, he exuded sexiness in a raw way that intimidated her. She considered herself a mundane sort of person—plain vanilla—and her sexual encounters usually fit the same description. Safe and uncomplicated and lacking in fireworks. And yet his music, which reflected his personality, had always drawn her, touching a place inside her that longed to be a little wilder. “I’ll get it done somehow,” she said. “I’ll do anything I can to help,” he offered, stroking her hand just above the ice pack. “You’re a wonderful musician and composer. You deserve success.” His fingertips made tiny circles on the back of her wrist. An idle motion on his part, one

he might use on the neck of his guitar as he waited for a particular passage of music, his touch sent heat sweeping through her. Fearing his touch would melt the ice pack—or send her entire body up in flames—she drew her hand free of his. “I always thought that you didn’t like classical music or the people who play it.” His brow drew downward. “What would make you think that?” “When you were on that morning TV show last week, you said that…” She paused before going on, “You used the words ‘unimaginative’ and ‘inhibited’, among others.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I did say those things, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I’d just been slammed in the press by a couple of…” His humor faded. “Well, I would use the term ‘hack classical composers’, but I guess that would be just as rude as the other things I said that day. I didn’t mean any of it.” Pepper tilted her head and considered his unexpectedly chagrined eyes. “I don’t understand.” “A couple of guys I went to school with at Julliard did an interview with—” “Wait a minute. You went to Julliard?” His dark brow descended again. “Yes,” he said, his voice carrying an ominous tone. Realizing she’d just put her foot in her mouth again, she quickly said, “I’m sorry, it’s just that…well…Julliard is…” “Yes?” he said again, even more ominously. His dark eyes glittered. “Julliard is for real musicians?” She slumped her shoulders. “I guess I’m being rude again too.” “‘Ignorant’ is the term I’d use.” Her temper flared but just as quickly she realized she shouldn’t be angry. Not after the nice things he’d said about her music moments earlier. And he’d merely been responding to her unspoken insult. “You’re right. Of course you’re a real musician.” She meant it. The man truly did have talent. He nodded and his brow relaxed. That more pleasant glimmer returned to his eyes. “Anyway, these old schoolmates had some pretty harsh things to say about rock musicians in general and me in particular and I took out my aggravation on all classical musicians during that interview. I honestly do admire a lot of composers, new and old. Modern music changes but little of it lasts beyond its own generation or the next the way the classics do.” He paused. “That’s something that’s bothered me a little lately about my own music.” Touched by his honesty, she snuggled her injured arm against her abdomen and turned her attention back to her sheet music. “I guess we’re even then. I’ve, um, made some assumptions about rock musicians too.” “Those kinds of assumptions are usually true.” Hearing the amusement in his voice, she looked up to find him smiling at her. She relaxed a little. “Well,” she said, braving the words in her head past her lips. “You don’t seem raunchy or obnoxious or stoned right now.” A laugh escaped him. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She laughed too, overcome by the warmth of his presence as much as by his validation of her and her music. And then she realized that he’d stopped laughing and was watching her mouth. Alex Mitzki, rock star, was watching her mouth as if he found it fascinating and tempting. The desire in his eyes re-sparked her own arousal and, in an instant, she pushed aside

her inhibitions. In for a penny, in for a pound, as her grandmother used to say. She kissed him. The kiss fulfilled every fantasy she’d ever had about him. His mouth was hot and wet and hungry and his arms embraced her with a sexual desperation that caused her to heat up even more inside. And then that damn rock beat started up again from upstairs. But this time, it didn’t just throb through her ceiling. It throbbed deep into her body, in time with her own pulse. Instead of giving in to frustration this time, instead of pulling away, Pepper groaned and sank deeper into his kiss. Because of her short height, she barely had to lean down to reach him where he sat on the piano bench. But apparently she wasn’t close enough for he tugged her down to sit across his lap. His hands began to move over her legs and up her back with urgent strokes. She heard his need in his breath and his groans. She felt it in the heaving of his chest against her breasts and in the rock-hard rod that pulsed beneath her thighs. Her own need answered by heightening inside her. He slid his lips down her throat. “Pepper,” he whispered. “I’ve thought of this moment so many times.” She drew back to look down into his dark eyes. “Why would you think of being with me?” He blinked in surprise. “How could I not? You’re beautiful, sexy—” “Me? Sexy?” He laughed. “Of course.” She shook her head, not believing him and lowered her gaze to the center of his chest. “I’ve never thought of myself as sexy.” “That’s the only way I’ve ever thought of you. Pepper. Look at me.” Obeying, she saw the truth in his eyes. He did really desire her. Not just because she was available and female. He desired her. She caught his face between her hands, letting the icepack slide free, hardly aware any more of the pain in her sprained wrist. He thought she was sexy. Alex Mitzki, rock star and one of the sexiest men alive, thought she was sexy. Conscious thought fled as his mouth turned on hers and she focused fully on the physical aspect of their joining. Slanting her mouth in turn, she opened for him. His tongue surged inside, claiming her with a desperate groan. One of his hands slipped under her skirt, gripping the inside of her thigh, scorching her flesh as he reached upward to the leg band of her panties. There was no further preliminary to his strike. One moment he was touching her leg, the next his fingers pushed inside her, spreading her wet, throbbing folds and knuckling their way deep into her passage. Pepper groaned as her inner muscles clenched around his fingers, drawing them further inside. But it wasn’t deep enough. She wanted to sling one of her legs around him, to straddle his thighs and open herself wide for his touch. And then, as if he’d read her thoughts, he shifted her to the position she wanted. Exposed, her body accepted his advance with weeping pleasure. The surge of need that hit her caused her to throw back her head, breaking their kiss to utter a sound so primal, so guttural, that she could hardly believe it came from her. And then her climax began. Alex felt her tremble against him as she cried out and her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers. Her voice, wordless and primitive, rose in pitch as her vaginal walls rippled. The extraordinary sound and sensation intensified his own need. As her body arched back toward the piano, he reached quickly between their torsos with his free hand and flicked open the button on

his jeans. He wanted inside her now. He wanted to feel her orgasm ripple along his aching shaft. He wanted to drive her higher, drive himself to the pinnacle with her. A single thought about responsibility shot through his mind. Protection. He hadn’t slept with many women recently and he’d been tested but better safe than sorry. Fortunately he just happened to have a whole box of protection inside his jacket pocket. One of his party buddies upstairs had asked him to stop at the drugstore for him during his stroll tonight. He’d never considered he might need that protection for himself. Even more fortunately, his jacket lay on the floor right beside the piano bench. As Pepper continued to strain to completion, he reached down to scoop his jacket off the floor and fumble the box of condoms out of the pocket. It wasn’t the polished move he’d hoped it might be. The box caught on the lining of the pocket and then the plastic wrapper on the box wouldn’t tear free. The fact that he was trying to get it open with one hand while the other continued to pleasure her didn’t help matters. Her thighs relaxed on either side of his as her body began to go limp. Despite the power in her orgasm, any second now she would begin to come to her senses. Another pang of responsibility shot through him. Shouldn’t he let her come to her senses long enough to decide if she really wanted to move forward? It was one thing to fool around—damn, it had been more than that. But shouldn’t he give her the option of taking it to the next level? Letting him get this far might have been the natural result of her earlier emotions and pain but that didn’t mean she meant for them to go further. Still… He looked at her, lying across the keyboard of her own piano, her clothing disheveled, her lovely face flushed with pleasure and he wondered if he could ignore the inconvenient nagging of responsibility. He wondered if he could simply take his pleasure from her ripe body and deal with the consequences later. Let her make the choice. Damn, he thought. Why did my conscience have to choose this moment to step up to the plate? He placed the box of condoms on the bench beside him, removed his hand from inside her sweet, wet passage and then slid both hands around to the small of her back. “Pepper,” he whispered, easing her upright. “Hmmm?” Her body went limp, almost boneless, as he lifted her upright. Her hair tumbled around her face as her eyes came slowly open. A smile of pleasure curled her lips, bringing his cock even further to attention. It told him clearly that it could bring her even more pleasure and Alex knew that it was right. “Pepper, can we take this into the bedroom?” he asked. That seemed a better way to phrase his own need than to ask her if he could take a moment to open the damn box of condoms. “I’d like to show you how much better it can be.” “Mmm.” Her lips curled further as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned into him. “That sounds like a great idea.” As she began to nuzzle his neck, he stood up off the bench. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she snuggled her heated center up against his straining cock. “Do you think you can put your feet on the floor?” he whispered against her ear. She shook her head. “Carry me.” Cradling her ass with one arm, he reached with his free hand to grab the box of condoms

off the bench. Her legs tightened around him and she began to rub her body against him. Blood rushed to his cock so fast that he nearly lost his balance. Sucking in a deep breath, he looked around, figured out where her bedroom was and headed that way. Lights from the city filtered through sheer drapes on the window beside her narrow bed. In that dimness he got an impression of ruffles and lace and pale colors as he lowered her gently to her bed. Then she opened her eyes and the city lights sparkled in them. Her joy and desire gleamed there, reaching out to embrace him, making him forget all about his surroundings. “Make love to me, Alex,” she whispered and lifted her arms toward him. Hands free, he ripped open the box of condoms, extracted a package and freed the contents. He lowered his jeans zipper and his cock sprang free, almost sheathing itself in the circle of latex. He took a moment to adjust it and then he lowered himself onto her waiting body. Pepper gasped and moaned and a shiver coursed through her. Her arms wound around his shoulders again and the trembling in her body eased, replaced by the needy pumping of her hips against him. So into the rhythm of their joining did she get that Alex found he barely needed to move at all. She took complete control even though she seemed barely conscious of where they were or who she was with. That last thought aroused a need inside him to make sure that this woman knew exactly who she was fucking. He wanted her to know that it was him—Alex Mitzki—and not some idealized rock star version of himself. Pushing one hand through her blonde hair, he tilted her head forward so that they lay face to face. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his voice rough with the urgency of his own impending climax. “Look at me.” Her eyes sprang open but they were a dark and dazed indigo, as if she rode some hypnotic fantasy. “Look at me,” he repeated, tightening his grip on her hair. The bedazzlement in her eyes faded and she focused on his face. Her eyes brightened, widened and she made another little noise that sounded like something between a gasp and groan. Then her beautiful body shuddered and she came violently. Her eyes became even more glazed and even in that half light he saw a blush sweep her creamy face. The sight and sensation of her powerful climax gripped his heart as tightly as it gripped his body and he followed her over the peak and off the edge.

Chapter Nine Pepper made her way from her bedroom to her living area on bare feet, a short, silk robe hugging her waist. Her wrist felt almost completely better. She wondered if it had anything to do with the recent rush of blood through her body. And, oh, what a rush it had been. Sensation after sensation in complete harmony with every cell in her body. She’d never been so aroused and so ultimately satisfied. She couldn’t say how many times she’d come. Or maybe she’d just enjoyed one hour-long orgasm. Now, at almost midnight, Alex slept soundly in her bed while his party went on above them. The music had been cranked up again but didn’t blare as before. Instead it simply pulsed through Pepper’s ceiling and down around her. She recognized one of his early hit songs. Its beat pulsed through her veins and she found that the sound didn’t bother her nearly as much as the newer music had earlier in the evening. In fact, at the moment the sound didn’t bother her at all

because it reminded her of him. Sitting at her piano, she placed the fingers of her left hand on the keys and softly mimicked the rhythm that came through the ceiling. It was a simple rhythm. Basic. Natural. Instead of ignoring it or trying to fight it, she went with it. Her gaze drifted over her own composition as she did so and she realized that slowing the tempo of her own piece would allow her to incorporate a bass rhythm somewhat like what Alex had written for that old single. That same rhythm moved through a lot of his music. No wonder I was frustrated, she realized. She’d been fighting the sound from above while it called to her to add something like it into her own music. Not the exact rhythm but something close enough to accentuate, to build on what Alex had called the sensuousness of her piece. Including the new rhythm into her bass, she lifted her right hand and gingerly began to play the melody. Her wrist ached a bit with the movement of her fingers. But as the new rhythm fit perfectly with her own composition, she found herself forgetting the pain. Her melody crooned from the depths of the piano, melding with the rhythm, the striking of each hammer vibrating back into her bones and cascading through her muscles until it swept her away again on a wave of intense arousal. When she came to the end of the first movement, she sat still for a long moment, listening to the final chords fade, feeling them settle deep inside her body. “Pepper, that was wonderful.” The deep, masculine voice drew her gaze to her bedroom doorway. Alex stood there, wearing an almost magical smile…and little else. He had tugged on his jeans but left them unbuttoned and unzipped. Even with the shadows cast by her piano light, she could see that he wore nothing under the bruised old denim. “That rhythm sounded familiar,” he went on, striding toward her with long and easy, so masculine steps. Her pulse, already a little fast, kicked up a notch. “It’s yours. From your first big hit. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing it.” “Consider it yours.” He sat beside her on the piano bench. “Why don’t we try it together?” Pepper enjoyed the touch of his hip against hers, his arm brushing the side of her breast. The movement of his body as he began to play the rhythm only intensified her pleasure. Placing her fingers on the keyboard, she began to play her composition. The sound rose from the instrument deep and moving and, with Alex beside her, Pepper found herself experiencing the music as she’d never experienced any piece before. Occasionally, the sides if their hands would brush or their elbows would bump, which only added another level of energy to the piece. When they finished, they sat silently for a moment, both of them gazing down at their hands resting on the keyboard. Emotion so overwhelmed Pepper that she could hardly breathe. Alex apparently felt the same for he didn’t move, didn’t speak for quite a while. Finally, slowly, the two of them drew their hands into their laps and turned toward each other. Pepper saw a peace in his black eyes that wasn’t there before and she thought she knew why. “I guess some modern music can stand the test of time too,” she said softly. Alex nodded slowly, holding her gaze. “I guess so.” “You really don’t mind if I use it in my composition?” “I’d be honored, Pepper.” His dark eyes glittered. “Maybe you’ll let me use part of your

melody in a new song that’s starting to come to my mind.” Wonder rolled through her. “A new song has come to you…just like that?” “It took a little effort. Very pleasurable effort.” She leaned close to him. “It was pleasurable. But I didn’t consider it an effort at all.” “Maybe we can work on my piece together.” Happiness beat through her, bursting forth in a grin. He answered with his own smile and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Then, facing forward, Pepper began to tickle her fingers in a jazzier rhythm of her melody along the keyboard. “Something like this?” she said. Chuckling softly, Alex eased his hands into a boogie rhythm on the lower half of the keyboard. He bobbed his head along in time. “Yeah,” Alex said quietly and then again a little louder, “Yeah.” Their shoulders began to move in time with the music. Pepper laughed when Alex increased the pace and her fingers flew to keep up with him. They laughed together, striking the keys harder, louder, faster. Suddenly, a strong pounding shook the wall behind the piano. As one, Pepper and Alex stopped playing and looked up. A male voice shouted from beyond the wall, “People are trying to sleep over here! Cut out that damn noise!” Pepper looked at Alex and found him looking back at her with delight in his eyes. “Noise?” he said. “He’s calling this noise?” “Obviously, he doesn’t know good music when he hears it,” Pepper said and the two of them burst out laughing. Pepper leaned her forehead against his chest as one of his arms went around her. His scent filled her head. His warmth soaked into her body. In the next instant, both of them stopped laughing. She looked up. His dark eyes fixed on hers with that gaze that proved so hypnotic to so many women. And yet Pepper knew that this time, his look belonged to her alone. Feeling its pull, she stood up, loosened the tie on her robe and let the garment slither down her arms. It pooled on the floor behind her as she returned to his embrace. ***** Alex wrote his music to inspire romance and desire in his fans. But he’d never realized how completely lustful the beat of his rock songs could be. At least not personally lustful. But hearing a close cousin of his own rhythm underscoring Pepper’s sweet, romantic melody lifted his lust to a painful, almost primitive level. It was as if in joining their music, she’d joined their souls and he needed to join their bodies as completely. In short, he wanted her again, now and hard and fast. But he also wanted her easy and slow. He wanted to take his time and enjoy every creamy inch of her. Tugging her down onto his lap, he positioned her so that he could reach anything that might interest him. Her soft ass melted over his thighs. Her pouty breasts cuddled into the crook of his right elbow. Her head tilted back to allow his lips access to her neck. As he nuzzled that sweet column of flesh, the slender fingers of one hand sifted through his hair. The other rose to rest on his shoulder. He licked and nibbled up her neck, enjoying the ripple of gooseflesh that his kisses aroused on her body. Easing his tongue outside his mouth, he tracked the tiny bumps to her ear. She sighed and then released a little gasp when his lips closed over her earlobe. He sucked the plump tidbit, enjoying the sweetness and the texture and the way the strokes of his tongue had her squirming on his lap. Her bare flesh warmed at his touch, at his

taste, burning hottest where the juncture of her legs met his jean-clad thigh. But she wasn’t hot enough yet. He wanted her on the verge of meltdown before he took her again. And he knew how to drive her to that verge. Shifting his lips to hers, he distracted her with a deep kiss while he straightened the arm that cradled her breasts. Those ample orbs bounced free but only for a moment. His hand returned, capturing her right breast in his palm. At first, he gently massaged it, playing it until her nipple engorged and distended. She groaned into his mouth when he squeezed at last, drawing her nipple into the crease of his palm. The sound of her need and the puff of air from her mouth to his inflamed his own desire. To hell with easy and slow. Scooping her into his arms, he stood from the bench and carried her into the bedroom. Once there he released her only long enough to strip off his pants and put on another condom. She stood before him, waiting beside the bed, trembling again, her eyes glowing with her own want. Then, as they tumbled to her tangled sheets, he sheathed himself in her slick heat. Beneath his chest, her nipples tightened, puckered, pricked at his flesh. Her hips surged upward proving that she wanted him as hard and fast as he wanted her. Her legs went around his waist and her thighs clamped his body to hers. Her arms circled his neck and her hot passage surrounded his cock as she embraced him in every way a woman could embrace a man. She tangled her fingers in his hair and drew his head down for a kiss filled with an elemental hunger. Together they bucked and pounded until a new kind of music sang through them both. ***** Fancy settled on the seat of the elevator, ready for a rest. Sensation pulsed through her spectral veins as if she possessed a heartbeat. She recognized the rhythm as the one that beat faintly through the walls of the old building. “Three couples in one night,” she murmured. “Not quite a record but it definitely brings me closer to my ultimate goal. Hiram.” She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to remember her beloved husband. The twinkle in his eyes, the gentle touch of his hand. His patience. She took a deep breath. “Still, it’s almost midnight. I need to find two more couples. Two more men and two more women who are attracted to each other enough to get together in the next half hour or so.” The elevator jolted suddenly and began to move downward. Fancy looked around, listening to the smooth whir of the machinery. “Now how am I supposed to do my work if that man keeps getting the elevator going again,” she complained out loud. “That Jake Christian needs to find something more interesting to do than tinker with—” The most obvious idea in the world occurred to her so suddenly that she couldn’t believe she’d never thought of it before. A smile lit her face. Turning toward the emergency telephone, she concentrated with all her might.

Chapter Ten Sophia couldn’t decide if she was angry or excited as she entered the tenth floor stairwell. Seven phone calls from the elevator service within the past fifteen minutes should make her blood boil. Instead, it raced as she stomped up the staircase to the roof of her building. The guy

at the elevator service had complained that someone was making emergency calls but every time he answered the call, no one responded to his “hello”. He’d asked Sophia to track down the repairman and find out what the heck was going on. The service elevator took her to the tenth floor but she had to take the stairs the rest of the way and the climb wasn’t doing her mood any good. She spread her fingers, easing the clenched muscle and ligament. Matchmaker’s was her business—her livelihood—and she was too busy on this night of all nights to leave it for something like this. She needed to be on duty. She needed to monitor her business. Income from the club allowed her to hold on to this precious old dinosaur of a building in Manhattan. And it provided the money she needed to pay a certain elevator repairman his outrageous fee to keep the antique lift operating. So it was fury instead of anticipation that quickened her steps…right? Reaching the top of the stairs, she fitted her key into the doorknob and gave it a twist. The night bartender had told her that Jake Christian had come up on the roof to check out the machinery at the top of the elevator shaft. Her pulse skipped at the thought of seeing the hunky repairman and that skip brought a scowl to her face as she pushed open the door. Jake, she freely admitted, was the cause of her conflicting emotions. Clenching her fists, she marched up the three concrete steps just outside the door. From the moment they’d met, maintaining a business relationship with that man had proven nearly impossible. So far, Sophia had managed not to let Jake know that she found him attractive. At least, she hoped she’d succeeded in hiding the intense arousal that shook her every time she laid eyes on the hunky repairman. She’d tried to hide the truth from herself for a long time but there was no getting around it. He set her panties on fire. But Sophia refused to give in to her libido. Getting personally involved with tenants, customers, vendors or repairmen was a no-no. She’d learned that from her father, who’d owned and managed the building before her. And she’d learned it from her brother, Alex, who’d seen too many of his rocker friends involved in lawsuits from getting personally involved with fans or employees. Cold wind whipped suddenly at the short skirt of her red business suit. She caught the hem as it flared up to reveal her thighs. Damn it, why didn’t I grab a coat before I came up here? Sounds of traffic rose from below. Snowflakes whirled through the air and the frigid February wind snapped at her short jacket, yanking it back to reveal her white silk blouse. And yet the cold didn’t bother her. Her body burned too hot right now for the weather to have any affect on her. She frowned again. Get a grip, she told herself. Then she paused to inhale several drafts of the winter air. Snowflakes drifted around her but neither the flakes nor the forced deep breathing cooled her off. In fact the quick intake of oxygen only made her dizzy. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadied herself and then stepped away from the shelter of the steps. The central elevator tower stood off to her right. She knew she’d find Jake there. Lights from taller buildings fell over the roof, allowing her to make her way easily to where the repairman knelt, peering into the elevator’s equipment box. As she approached him from behind, she couldn’t help noticing how different he looked from most of the men she met. Built like a boxer, he wore jeans and faded cotton shirts instead of business suits or designer clothes. The garments fit his muscular body well—too well for her comfort. In spite of the

weather, he’d tossed aside that scruffy old coat of his, revealing yet another well-worn flannel plaid shirt that molded to his muscular back. His dark hair danced in the wind. He wore it a little long and curly instead of blunt-cut at the neck or sheared across his scalp like so many of the men who patronized her club wore their hair. Sophia curled her fingers back into fists. She would admit it only to herself but she longed to push her fingers through those dark curls. To grip his thick locks and hold his head against her bare breast while he— “Hey, Sophia.” She realized he had turned to look at her. His brown eyes reflected the multi-colored city lights and his teeth glimmered in his sun-darkened face as he grinned. Damn but the man was gorgeous. He stood up. Unfolded, she corrected herself, watching his long legs lift him upright. His jeans weren’t tight but she could see the finely cut lines of his muscles. The sight of those strong thighs and the bulge between them made her mouth water. Blinking, she shifted her gaze down and away from his package. But noting within her immediate view didn’t entice. Even the wrench that hung from one of his big hands reminded her of his other tool and sent a surge of lust through her. His other hand, she noted, was black with grease. She looked him over. More grease smudged his shirt and even his forehead. Oddly, the sight of all that black lubricant only made her want him more. She wanted to grab him, throw him down on the roof surface and see how much grease she could rub off him and onto herself. “You come up here to give me hand?” he asked, still grinning. “I came up here to find out what the hell is going on.” Hiding her arousal behind clipped tones, she clenched her fists more tightly at her sides and strode toward him. “You’ve been working on that damned elevator for five hours.” “Closer to six.” He lifted one of those wonderful shoulders. “And you’ve got to remember that it’s St. Valentine’s Day.” “What the hell does that have to do with—” Cutting herself off, she unclenched one fist and lifted her hand. “Don’t you dare say that Miss Fancy is just doing her part to help out Cupid.” His grin widened and he pulled a red bandana out of one of his back jeans pockets. “I think she’s going for some kind of record tonight. Two couples that I know of have gotten together because of her shenanigans.” “She…” Sophia ground her teeth. “It is a mechanical device and doesn’t perform shenanigans.” He tucked the wrench under one arm—smearing grease on that part of his shirt—and began to rub the bandana over his hands. “That’s right. I keep forgetting you don’t believe in that old story.” “And I keep forgetting that you use that old story as an excuse for not permanently fixing the elevator.” “There’s nothing to fix.” His dark eyes flickered down to her chest before fixing on her face again. “Because there’s nothing wrong with her.” “Of course there’s something wrong.” Sophia pulled her jacket closed and folded her arms across her chest. Even through the jacket, she felt the pressure of her full breasts against her arms. Warmth spread throughout her chest and a tremor shot down into her gut. She tried to blame it on the wind or the snow but she knew herself too well to buy that excuse. It might have

been a long time but that little quake—that warmth—had been of a sexual nature. “She…it has gotten stuck several times tonight. It went crazy on my brother earlier and now the emergency phone is ringing every few minutes.” One of his dark eyebrows arched upward. “I didn’t think a mechanical device could go crazy.” “You know what I mean.” He ambled toward her, tucking his bandana back into his pocket. “I know that I’ve had my hands on every piece of her tonight and I can’t find a thing wrong.” Watching him approach her, Sophia went a little dizzy again and her vaginal walls clenched. I know what pieces of me I’d like him to get his hands on, whispered her traitorous libido. Clamping her right hand around her key ring, she took a step backward and tried to ignore that craving inside her body. She was his customer. She needed to maintain her objectivity, her distance. They couldn’t have a business and a personal relationship and be successful at both. “Maybe it’s time I called another repairman. Someone who knows what he’s doing.” His eyes took on a gleam that she hadn’t seen before. It looked like anger. Not possible, she told herself. Easygoing Jake never got angry, no matter how hard she goaded him. “No need to be insulting, Sophia.” His voice came out silky and low and just a little threatening. “You know I’m good at what I do.” I just bet you are, whispered that adulterous little voice deep inside her mind. Or maybe it came from somewhere much, much lower. More determined than ever to not give in to her libido, Sophia popped back, “I know that you rarely find anything wrong with that elevator when it malfunctions.” “But I always find what’s wrong with the service elevator, don’t I?” “That’s beside the point. I’m talking about the main elevator tonight and I’m not paying you good money to do nothing.” “I’m not billing you for tonight.” He took another step after her, removing the wrench from under his arm and dropping it with a thud on top of his coat. She blinked, surprised. “You’re not?” “Don’t you pay attention to your invoices, Sophia?” His smile returned. “I never bill you when I don’t find something wrong.” She blinked. “You don’t?” “Of course not. If I don’t perform a service, I don’t charge a fee.” She hadn’t really paid attention. She’d let her accountant, Russell Finch, take care of paying the repair bills, confident that he’d have told her of any unfair or questionable charges. At the same time, she’d assumed that Jake billed her for all his repair calls. “But you sometimes spend hours working on that thing,” she said. “Which is why I can say with some authority that there is nothing wrong with Miss Fancy.” Sophia realized that he had almost closed the distance between them. He stood less than two feet away and she could see how the blue and gray flannel of his shirt hugged his muscular chest. That gleam returned to his eyes. The sight of it sent a pulse of energy dancing through her veins and into her clitoris. Her sex engorged. Heat built inside her and she wondered just how little pressure it would take for her clit to explode in the climax of all climaxes. This is ridiculous!

Whirling around, she started to stride away from the temptation he presented. A sudden gust of icy wind blew strands of hair into her eyes. Blinking, she lost her balance and lurched to the right, colliding with the low brick wall that surrounded the top of the building. Light, sound and wind swirled around her, disorienting her and she tumbled toward the open space beyond the wall. Suddenly, one of Jake’s strong arms hooked around her waist and yanked her back from the brink and up against his rock-hard chest. “Oh!” Surprise, relief and desire hit her all at once. A rush of moisture soaked her silk panties. “You okay?” His voice came at her like a breath of wind but warm and focused on the side of her face. “You’re shaking.” Shaking so hard I can’t even talk. She looked down. His arm lay hard and dark across her abdomen, his powerful fingers splayed across her hip. He could easily tug up her skirt and push those grease-blackened fingers inside her. A moan shuddered up from deep inside her and her head fell back against his shoulder. She couldn’t fight herself any more. She no longer wanted to. The surrender in her body tempted Jake almost beyond his control. Beyond a handshake at their first meeting, he’d never touched Sophia before tonight, even though he’d desperately wanted to do so many times. Now, holding her against his chest, feeling her long legs align with his, feeling her high, sweet ass tucked up against his ever-hardening cock, he discovered he liked touching her as much as he’d thought he would. He liked it a lot. The way she felt and smelled and that little moan she’d just uttered made him think she liked it too. But he’d learned one thing about Sophia Mitzki a long time ago—in her world business was business and pleasure held no place in it. So why was she draped against him like a long, silky sex doll? He doubted that resulted only from her near tumble. That would have scared her for sure but she was the type of woman who always regained control fast. He placed his free hand on her waist and turned her so that she faced him. But he kept his other arm around her body, his palm pressed to her sinuous back. To hold her up, he tried telling himself. But his cock wasn’t buying it. He had more personal reasons for keeping his arm around her lithe body—namely to keep her from slipping away before she came to her senses. Limp, she gazed up at him with heavy lids barely open over her eyes. Black. Those eyes were black and they glittered like the night sky. Her lips, full and red, parted as if in invitation. Her breath brushed warm against his chin and across his lower lip. Damn it but she was hot. Hot and ready and more than willing, if he read her signals right. She was downright hungry for him. He tightened his arm around her and then lifted his free hand to cup her jaw. Her mouth was so close that he could taste the mint she must’ve recently sucked on. His own mouth watered at the scent and the thought of her beautiful mouth sucking on him. He leaned down, intending to take just a little taste. One little taste to give them both a chance to steady themselves and then he would ask her if she was sure this was what she wanted. And then her palms planted against his chest and she pushed firmly to hold him off. The glitter left her eyes, replaced by a harder glint of suspicion. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. Not thinking quite clearly—it took more than a second for the blood to rise back from his

cock to his brain—he stared at her. “Huh?” was all he managed to utter. “I said…” She pushed harder on his chest, stepping back and breaking his grip on her waist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “I guess I’m acting like an idiot.” He heard the edge in his voice and didn’t try to temper his own rising anger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he countered, confused and turned on and getting a little pissed. “I’m going back downstairs to try to remove your greasy handprints from my clothes!” She stepped around him, fists clenched, long legs eating up the rooftop surface as if it was a racetrack and she was a thoroughbred. “Fix that damned elevator!” Jake stared after her, stunned by her transformation from sex-ready kitten to obnoxious and unsatisfied customer. But he didn’t stand there staring for long. He’d about had enough of Miss High-and-Mighty and her sour temper and he meant to tell her so. Sophia yanked open the door leading from the roof and stomped down the concrete stairs. Her ears burned. Her face burned. Damn it, every female molecule of her sparked and crackled. If he hadn’t caught her, she’d probably have tumbled right off the roof. And she’d rewarded him first by sinking into his arms like some swooning damsel and then turning on him like a shrieking harpy. Apologize, her conscience advised. Turn around right now and tell the man you’re sorry for going at him sexually and angrily. You’ve got to keep this relationship on a business level. Emotion—any kind of emotion—has no place in it. Left foot hovering over the top step at the tenth floor landing, she turned and found herself colliding with one very large, very virile and very angry man. Jake caught both her arms just above her elbows. She gasped in anticipation of him hauling her up against that hard chest again. Wanting him to. Oh how she wanted him to. Instead, he held her at arms’ length and glared at her from beneath low black brows. “I am a patient man,” he said, his voice taking on a quiet tone that should have scared her half to death. Instead it sent a thrill coursing through every vein in her body. “I will put up with a lot of things,” he went on, his brown eyes gleaming. “But I will not be treated like a whipping post and I will not have my work skills derided by some hormonal shrew.” Heat flared even hotter into Sophia’s face. “Hormonal—” “I’m going to show you there’s nothing wrong with that damn elevator.” He turned her toward the tenth floor stairwell door. “And then I’m going to let you apologize to me. And then I’m going to present you with a bill for services like you won’t believe.” Before Sophia could respond he opened the stairwell door and dragged her through the opening by one arm. Her wrist caught in an iron grip, her legs barely long enough to keep up with his angry strides, she ran to keep up with him as he pulled her toward the elevator standing open halfway down the corridor. Vaguely, Sophia heard the pulse of music coming from her penthouse apartment. Her brother’s party still shook the walls. But she found it hard to care about the noise as Jake tugged her into the elevator. He shoved a key into the control lock, twisted it and the doors slid shut. Sophia began to recover her wits. “Now wait just a—” “What floor would you like, Ms. Mitzki?” he interrupted. “How about the first floor? I’ll show you that this elevator will go all the way down without a problem.” He jabbed a finger into the first floor button. “And then we’ll come all the way back up.”

“Stop it,” she whispered, trying to tug her wrist free of his grip as the elevator began its slow descent. He wouldn’t let go. “And then we’ll go down again and try every floor between the first and the tenth.” Panic jolted her. But the sensation had nothing to do with fear. It had everything to do with this man’s raw sexuality. His caveman-like behavior. Oh, yeah, she was definitely turned on. And that was a condition she couldn’t afford. She tried once more to pull free before she did something she’d regret. “Please, let me go,” she said weakly. He glared down at her for a moment longer. His nostrils flared and his brown eyes glimmered with enough heat to melt the snow on the roof. Then he opened his hand, releasing her wrist. But he didn’t step back. He didn’t give her any breathing room. And she sure needed it. So she said the only thing she thought she could say that would gain her that breathing room. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper with only the briefest snatch of air. Those angry brown eyes narrowed. “What did you say?” “I said…” She took another breath, just as quick but deeper. “I’m sorry.” His eyes widened and a long moment passed. “Wow,” he finally said in that quiet voice that shook her so. “I didn’t really expect you to apologize.” She took a step back as her ploy worked and she fought down a sense of disappointment. “I usually do the right thing,” she replied, speaking just as quietly as he had done. He continued to gaze at her. “So do I.” Finally, Sophia managed to take in enough oxygen to lend some strength to her voice. “I know that, Jake. And I was wrong to jump at you like that.” A purely male smile spread slowly over his sexy mouth. “Lady, you can jump at me any time you want.” “Now, you see…” She took another step back and leaned against one wall of the elevator. Only that support at her back kept her from collapsing. It wasn’t that her knees were shaking—although they were. It was more that all her physical sensation centered toward a single, hot, wet point inside her body and she feared she would lose her mental focus so completely that she’d forget how to remain standing. “That’s the kind of thing that sets me off,” she finished weakly. He leaned against the opposite wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His anger had apparently banked, replaced by his usual flirty tone. “I set you off, huh?” Sophia closed her eyes. His sexy smile, manly slouch and suggestive voice combined with the close confines of the elevator to make her go light-headed and wobble-kneed again. She needed to close her eyes in order to maintain even a little bit of control. “I own a business, Mr. Christian,” she said without opening her eyes. She tried to keep her voice cool, determined to get their current meeting back on a businesslike platform. She was even more determined to keep her weak knees from buckling under her. “You perform a service for that business.” “I can perform all sorts of services.” “Stop saying things like that.” She opened her eyes and stared at the collar of his shirt. It seemed safer than looking at that unnervingly sensuous smile or those teasing eyes. And yet she quickly realized that the small

curls of hair that showed above his shirt were just as sensuous as his lips. More so. They reminded her bluntly of his masculinity. “I do not want to get involved with someone who works for me,” she said weakly. “It’s never a good idea.” “I think you do want to get involved with me,” he countered. “You just don’t want to want to.” She couldn’t help it. She looked up into his laughing eyes. “I’m sure that makes sense somehow.” Those laughing eyes lowered slowly, stroking her body with obvious interest. His gaze stopped on her breasts and her nipples instantly puckered beneath his appreciative attention. “Oh it makes sense,” he said quietly. “And it’s obviously true.” Sophia yanked her jacket closed and folded her arms over her chest. Impossible to keep the upper hand by allowing him to ogle her like that. Not that she really possessed the upper hand. Her apology had seen to her losing that. But she intended to get back on top. Back in control, she corrected herself as an image of her sitting—naked—on top of him—also naked—flashed through her mind. “I’m not going to argue with you,” she said, lifting her chin and tightening her arms over her chest. “I insist that we maintain a professional relationship.” He didn’t reply. At least not with his voice. His eyes, however, gleamed in defiance of her demand. And his body…how could a man appear so relaxed and yet so overpowering and sexual? His long, muscular body dominated the small space of the elevator. Sophia feared that she wouldn’t be able to avoid his domination of her for much longer. As images of how he could dominate her swept through her mind, she became of aware of something else. The elevator had stopped moving. Jake realized the elevator had stopped moving about the same time that Sophia blinked and looked at the floor indicator. But he didn’t think for one second that there was anything wrong with the machinery. Fine hairs stood up on the back of his neck and a chill shivered up his back. “Miss Fancy is up to her old tricks,” he said. Sophia’s eyes widened briefly and she shook her head. “No.” “Oh, yeah.” He drew his hands out of his pockets and pushed away from the wall. “She wants us to be together and she’s made sure that we are. No matter what I do to this elevator, I’ll bet we’re not going anywhere until we settle things between us.” Sophia’s arms clenched tighter over her chest. He wondered if she realized that her defensive stance pushed her breasts up above the top of her bra. Even past her jacket and through her blouse, he could see those gentle swells and his body warmed further at the sight of her impressive cleavage. Sophia’s gaze turned even more skeptical. “You’re saying that my great-great-great-great-grandmother has stopped this elevator.” “Something stopped it. And it sure isn’t anything wrong with the gears or the controls.” “So, if we…if I…” He grinned. “If you kiss me I’ll bet those doors will open or the car will start moving again.” Her high cheeks flushed almost as deep a red as that sexy suit she wore. Jake could almost feel the heat rising in her body. He certainly felt it rising in his.

“There’s only one way to prove if I’m right,” he said, wanting to step closer to her but afraid he might frighten her. Or, more likely, piss her off. “You’re right,” she said abruptly. Unfolding her arms, she reached toward him. Jake was caught so off-guard when her long fingers clamped around his upper arms, that he didn’t think to resist as she yanked him forward and planted her wet mouth on his. Off-guard and then deprived of oxygen as all the blood rushed from his brain to his best friend for the second time that night. Her mouth was made for kissing, for sucking, for sinning. Full and soft and warm, her lips melded with his, opening to allow her tongue to sweep inside his mouth. If she meant to disprove his notion about the elevator, she sure wasn’t holding anything back. She was giving it everything she had and certainly everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. Deciding he might as well take advantage of the moment, Jake lifted his arms to surround her lush body and haul her closer. He felt the swell of her breasts against his chest, the points of her nipples as her jacket shifted open, the heat that rose from the juncture of her legs where it pressed against one of his thighs. He smelled her arousal and knew that—although she might not want to admit it—her body no longer cared about proving him wrong. No matter what her brain tried to tell her, her body wanted his body in the most elemental way. And his body happily obliged the lady’s needs. Sliding one hand down her back, he eased his fingers over her round backside and down the back of her thigh. Lifting her leg, he tucked it up along his hip. The heat from her feminine area became more obvious as she straddled his jean-clad thigh and she wasn’t shy about getting closer. Rubbing against him, she moaned and slanted her mouth, nearly cutting off his air as her tongue delved deeper into him. Man, what she could do with that tongue. He lost awareness at that moment of everything except the thrust of her tongue and the rocking of her hot mound against him. Her sensuality had taken him over and he would gladly remain lost in her for the rest of his mortal life and beyond. If this elevator never moved he would be happy to be trapped here until the two of them fucked themselves brainless. Her mouth released his at last and she pressed her forehead to his. “We’re…not…moving,” she breathed out. He tugged her closer, digging his rigid tool into her other leg. “Oh, I’d say we’re moving pretty well.” Her black eyes went even darker and her voice fell to a whisper. “I mean…the elevator.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow beneath her ear. “That’s all right with me. It’s a cozy elevator.” He eased out his tongue to taste her salty flesh. “But…doesn’t this…” She still couldn’t catch her breath, a difficulty he was happy to take the blame for. “Mean you…were wrong?” He licked the graceful cord of muscle in her neck, enjoying her saltiness as well as the perfumed flavor of her skin. Gardenia, or some other exotic flower, he thought as he ran his tongue up behind her ear again. “It just means she’s giving us more time to get to know each other.” Nipping at her plump earlobe, still holding her leg, he stroked his other hand up and around between them. Brushing her short jacket further aside, he stroked up her white silk shirt and settled his hand on her breast. Her already hard nipple puckered tighter, pressing into his palm.

“That’s it,” he whispered and began to suckle her sweet neck again. Sophia’s head fell back and she gave up a quiet groan. Arching her breast into his hand, she bowed her back and brought her hot center harder against his thigh, grinding against him. “Oh, yeah.” Jake nibbled his way down her neck while he pushed his right hand back up her thigh and under her short skirt. He felt the sweet, naked globe of her ass against his seeking palm. Either she was wearing a thong…or nothing. He wanted to see. He wanted to taste. He wanted to pump his seed deep inside her. His head rose and he stared into her glazed eyes. Where the hell had that thought come from? And then as she licked her lips and gazed back at him with those sultry eyes, he knew exactly where it came from. He wanted Sophia Mitzki in every possible way. He wanted her totally. He wanted to make her his. Forever. Sophia’s thoughts took an unexpected turn. All right, so maybe she could mix business with pleasure. After all, lots of couples hooked up at work. Who ever made a rule that clubs like Matchmakers was the only place for men and women to meet? Just because her dad told her never to mix business with pleasure didn’t mean it was against the law to do so. Just because she’d made the mistake of hooking up with the wrong man from the club a time or two didn’t mean that Jake was the wrong man tonight, did it? A sexy, hungry grin spread over his face and he leaned in for another kiss. Sophia opened for him, allowing his tongue to sweep inside and taste her. She tasted him back, enjoying the flavor of pure American male. She pressed closer to his body. The rhythm of his tongue mimicked the rocking pace of his hips against her. She straddled one of his thighs, the muscle warm and hard beneath his jeans. She wanted to straddle something else. Something warmer and harder. Something that even now made its existence known by digging into her leg again. Releasing his upper arms, she lifted her hands to his thick, dark hair and pushed her fingers into it. He gave up a groan that sounded like frustration. She whimpered her own disappointment when his hand fell away from her breast. But then that same hand reached around her to grip her ass on the other side. Palming both of her cheeks, he lifted her, shifted her, spread her wide and settled her against his growing cock. Sophia’s whimper became a groan of satisfaction. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her ankles together. Clothes barred their complete joining but they were both so caught of up in the rhythm of arousal, they hardly noticed. The tiny front of Sophia’s thong slipped to one side, baring her hungry sexual lips. His thickness, still sheathed in denim, slid right into place and they began to rub against each other more frantically. Ever-heightening arousal kept her clit damp and the roughness of his jeans against her plump folds only made her crazier. She was… Going to… Come right… Now! Jake felt as if the world was falling away beneath him. But he didn’t care. As long as he could hold onto Sophia like this, he would gladly fall forever. He had never been so turned on in his life. Inside, he’d gone molten with need. When she groaned and shuddered and went limp against him, he knew that he had taken her to the brink and beyond without even slipping inside

her. It was so tempting to strip away his clothes and take her right here, right now, hanging in the space of the elevator shaft. Gradually he realized that they weren’t actually “hanging” any more. The world was falling away. At least, the elevator was falling slowly along its usual path. Still locked between her legs, Jake drew his mouth from hers. She released a tiny sigh of contentment and nestled her cheek into the crook of his neck. Jake looked at the arrow above the elevator doors and saw that the car had indeed resumed its descent. “Sophia?” He brushed his lips against her temple. “Sophia, put your feet on the floor.” “Mmm. Don’t want to.” She snuggled her cheek against his collarbone. “Want to stay right here.” Jake chuckled. “You can have another ride in a little while, darlin’. A real ride. But right now you need to straighten your clothes before some stranger gets a look at what I plan to taste later.” A shudder ran through her and the moisture of her sweet center heated his still throbbing tool. But she lifted her head and gave him a long, dreamy gaze before she too, revealed an awareness of the movement of the elevator. “Oh.” She blinked herself to a more heightened awareness and then, unlocking her ankles, lowered her feet to the floor. Jake tugged her short skirt down over her sweet ass and then took a reluctant step back from her. They both looked down and he saw the damp spot on the front of his jeans. Looking back at her, he found her staring at the spot with high color in her cheeks. Jake grinned. “Badge of honor.” She lifted a hand to her forehead. “What if someone sees it?” He slid an arm around her shoulders and turned so that both of them faced the elevator doors. “For all anyone knows, I drooled on myself,” he said. He brushed his lips against her ear and drew in the warm scent of her. “Don’t worry about that. Worry about those grease stains I left on your blouse instead.” Sophia gasped and looked down. His fingerprints covered the white silk. And her jacket. And her skirt. Her expression when she looked back at him made Jake laugh out loud. She looked guilty and yet pleased at the same time and he was half-tempted to tell her about the greasy fingerprints he’d left on her neck too. Instead, he gave her shoulders a squeeze and then, as the elevator settled to a stop on the first floor, he released her. But I don’t intend to let her go for long, he thought, his laughter settling into another grin.

Chapter Eleven A few minutes later Sophia paced behind the desk in her private office at the rear of Matchmakers. Jake sat in one of her leather and steel guest chairs, his cell phone to his ear, his long legs extended in front of him. His feet were bare, his work boots resting on the floor beside him. Relaxed—like a guy who’d just had a satisfying sexual experience—he laughed with the man on the other end of the call. And he didn’t even come, Sophia thought, wringing her hands together as yet another aftershock of her own orgasm shook her. Ironic that she’d been the one to climax and was now the one who was a bundle of

nerves. Did he think she was some easy slut? Did he think she’d let him do what he’d done—oh, what he’d done—just to coerce him into calling someone else to work on the elevator? Would he stick around tonight and carry through with what they’d started? And would he treat her as an equal or as an object to be used for his pleasure and then discarded? There lay the real danger of mixing business with pleasure as far as Sophia was concerned. One party usually took the lead, the dominant role. She couldn’t let him do that. It wasn’t that she was a dominatrix of any kind. She simply preferred to partner with her lovers. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll see you here first thing in the morning.” Jake turned off his cell phone and lowered it to rest on one of his thighs. Sophia’s gaze followed the movement of his hand and then it stroked down his long legs. He was a fine specimen of a man. She’d felt the strength in his thighs, wanted to feel it again. “You hungry, darlin’?” Her eyes shot back to his eyes and she realized that she’d been licking her lips like a hungry animal. As heat swept up her face, he laughed and pushed to his feet. “You are so pretty when you’re embarrassed.” He ambled around the desk, tucking his cell phone back into its holster at his waist. “Or should I say you’re so much prettier?” “I’m not embarrassed.” Sophia lifted her chin as she lied. “Why should I be embarrassed?” “There’s no reason in the world.” He reached out and caught her hands in his. As his fingers closed around hers, Sophia realized she was trembling. “Jake, wait.” He drew her closer. “Why?” “The last few men I’ve dated have been…well, let’s just say that I’m an independent woman and I know how to take care of my own business.” He frowned. “If this is about the elevator again—” “It’s about me.” She shook her head. “Me and the club and the building. I’ve been managing them for years and I know what I’m doing.” The creases in his brow eased. “I believe you.” “I don’t need any advice on how to run my business.” His brow drew downward. “I would never make the mistake of offering you advice on anything not related to your elevator equipment.” She relaxed a little. “You probably think I’m being ridiculous.” “No. I think you’re smart and capable and independent. And those are all part of what makes you so sexy.” She narrowed one eye and glared at him. “And here I thought it was my boobs that caught your eye.” He stroked his hands upward so that his thumbs rested just under her breasts. He gazed appreciatively at them. “Oh, darlin’, these beauties were the very things that caught my eye. But the whole package keeps me coming back.” Sophia didn’t know if she could continue to stand, so weak did she go in the knees as he continued to admire her breasts. “A little while ago you asked me if I was hungry,” she said quietly. “I am hungry. Hungry for you.” Jake grinned and tugged her closer. “That’s just what I want to hear.”

His mouth settled over hers as if it belonged just there. His hands slid up her arms, bare now that she had discarded her jacket, stroking her skin as if his fingers loved touching her. “I want to make love to you,” he murmured against her mouth and then he lapped languidly at her lower lip. Sophia’s breath quickened as his tongue touched one of the corners of her mouth and then delved inside to claim her. She sank against him, supporting herself against his hard chest. She didn’t care who took control. She just wanted him inside her. Making love to her. To hell with her principles. “But…” He drew back slightly before taking another brief taste. “I want to do it in a proper setting this time.” Sophia slid her arms up to his shoulders, ready to get physical with him anywhere. “Didn’t you enjoy our little adventure in the elevator?” “Oh, darlin’, I loved it. But…” He leaned close to lap at her lip again. “I don’t want to get interrupted this time.” “Neither do I.” She tangled her tongue gently with his before pulling back enough to trail kisses along his strong jaw. “Unfortunately my apartment is a little crowded right now.” He tilted his head back to give her better access to the hot pulse point on the side of his neck. “Oh?” She nuzzled her lips there, tasting his heat before drawing back. She slid her hands back down his arms and caught his hands. Holding him firmly she began to back toward the over-sized steel-gray sofa on the far side of her office. “My brother is having a party up there,” she explained, holding his puzzled gaze as she pulled him with her. “So we’ll just have to find our privacy where we can get it.” He looked beyond her and his eyes brightened. “That sofa looks awful comfy. But are you sure it can handle what we’re going to lay on it?” Excitement ran through her again. “That sofa pulls out to a queen-size bed. I think it can handle whatever we’ve got.” Pleasure did a slow dance across his face. “Why don’t we pull it out, then?” A fresh kind of pleasure filled Sophia. He had said “we”. He wanted to work with her. He didn’t expect her to do it herself nor had he insisted that—as the man—it was a job he should handle. “Why don’t we?” she agreed and they parted just long enough to pull out the bed together. Sheets and a soft quilt already covered the queen-sized mattress and she grabbed a couple of pillows from a nearby cabinet. She didn’t use the sofa bed often but kept it made up just in case she found herself too tired to drag herself upstairs some late night. She’d certainly never used it for what they were about to use it for. He joined her on her side of the bed, turned her to face him and aligned their bodies. His hands touched her hips and started to creep upward. Sophia placed her hands over his, thinking that she wanted to be the one to lead the way at first. But would he let her? Would his actions prove his words? “Uh-huh,” she said and brushed a kiss against his mouth. “Not until we get rid of something between us.” He cocked his head, his attention fixed on her mouth, his eyes revealing the hunger that had never died. “And what’s that?” Releasing his hands, she settled her hands against his chest. “Clothes,” she said and

began to slowly unbutton his shirt. “This time I want skin on skin.” “Oh, darlin’, I agree completely.” He started to reach for the buttons on her blouse but she stopped him with a touch of her hands. “Patience,” she said. “Let’s take turns.” Jake grinned and lowered his hands to his sides. “I would say ‘ladies first’ but why don’t I just say ‘you go on ahead’ instead?” A slow shudder rolled through her. The thought of joining her body to that of this strong, rough man excited her more than she’d allowed herself to admit even in her dreams. Sophia’s fingers shook as she finished unbuttoning his shirt. Spreading the soft, grease-stained flannel, she revealed a thermal undershirt. “No wonder you weren’t cold up on the roof.” She pushed his shirtsleeves down his arm and then lifted her hands back to his thermal-covered chest. “Take it off,” she whispered. He held her gaze as he gripped the hem of his undershirt and tugged the garment over his head. With appreciation, she studied his broad, muscular chest by the dim glow from her desk lamp. Just the right amount of hair dusted those powerful muscles. She skimmed her fingertips over the expanse. His skin was warm to the touch and smooth beneath the dark coils. “Mmm.” He closed his eyes as her fingers tickled over his pectoral muscles. “You like that?” Sophia whispered. He nodded. Encouraged, she traced her index fingers down his chest, circling his flat nipples before skimming down his washboard abs to meet at the waistband of his jeans. “I’ve never undressed a man before,” she murmured, watching her own hands as she loosened the button and then lowered his zipper. “Never?” She lifted one shoulder as she parted the fly of his jeans. “None of them has ever let me take control like this.” “Take all night if you want,” he said quietly. “But remember that I get a turn too.” She pushed her hands inside his jeans and slid them down his hips. “Part your legs a little,” she urged. Jake did as she commanded. His jeans slithered down his thighs to reveal white and gray striped shorts. Sophia smiled. “Boxers, huh? I’d have taken you for a briefs man.” “Maybe next time.” Next time? The thought of having this man at her beck and call beyond tonight gave her heart a little tug. His jeans tumbled down to his ankles. Sophia pushed his boxers down after them and he stepped out of both. His erection bobbed, aiming almost arrow-straight at her. Her vaginal muscles tightened as she saw how large he was. Large and pulsing with life and need. She sighed. “You look as good as I thought you would.” “So you have been thinking about me.” He lifted a hand to her hip, gently tickling her with his fingertips. “I knew it.” “Your ego is almost as big as your…” Pausing, she cleared her throat and reached out to stroke her own fingertips along the length of his shaft. His cock twitched and grew longer. Sophia laughed lightly and then stepped in close and brought her mouth against his, demanding everything he had to offer. His body responded instantly, hardening everywhere that she touched him and a sense of power filled her. Gripping the front of her blouse, she jerked it open, popping buttons and

sending them flying. “Oh, darlin’.” His hands came up to push the sleeves down her arms. “Let me do that.” He pushed her blouse away and then unzipped her skirt and pushed it down her hips. Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra. Relief shuddered through her as her breasts fell free of the restraint. Jake tugged her against him, his abs rock hard against her softer tummy, his erection prodding one of her thighs. Moisture pooled at the juncture of her legs and she could hardly wait to feel his hardness there. Still kissing him, exploring his mouth with her tongue and her teeth and her lips, she gripped the waistband of her thong and stripped the tiny garment down her hips. It fell down her legs and, stepping free of it, she kicked it aside and stepped in close to him again. He shuddered now, his entire body tight and quivering against hers. Pleasure bolted through her. She had done this to him. The strength in his thighs and his cock were hers to command. Heat licked at the core of her and she turned him to face her. Backing him up until the backs of his knees hit the mattress, she felt him begin to sink onto it. His hands came up to her waist to take her with him. But she brought one knee up to rest on the bed, holding her body above his as he lay back beneath her. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his eyes for a moment, allowing her breasts to swing above him. He growled low, watching her breasts with unconcealed hunger and then tightened his grip on her waist and tried to pull her down against him. “Not yet,” she whispered. Still holding her body away from his, she began to kiss and nibble a path away from his mouth, along his strong jaw once more and down his neck. Down the swell of his golden, hair-dusted chest to one flat, copper-colored nipple. She circled the tiny nub with her tongue and then lapped firmly at it. Jake sucked in a breath and his body heaved upward beneath her. His rippling abs brushed her breasts as they dangled over him and then she felt the rounded head of his erection probing at the ligament along the inside of her right thigh. Turning to his other nipple, she licked the salty flavor of him and then settled her mouth over the hard little nub and began to suck. Another low growl erupted from him and he surged upward again. His breathing grew labored and unsteady, driving her excitement level upward. Her own lungs could barely snatch a breath as she feasted on him. She was making herself almost as crazy as she was driving him, dragging the sensitized tips of her breasts over his ribs and his hairy chest. Coarse black curls caught on her engorged nipples. She was so wet now that she felt a warm trickle on her leg. He apparently felt it too, for the rising of his hips became more determined, the direction of his tool more focused. She eased back only for as long as it took to grab a condom from the box she kept in the drawer of the table next to the sofa—being a club owner, she kept them on hand for customer emergencies. She ripped open the packet with her teeth, rolled it down over his cock and then straddled him again. Her swollen folds opened as she parted her legs wider and sank onto him, drawing his cock inside her passage just as her mouth drew his tongue. Spasms shook her thigh muscles and need coiled tighter inside her as his thickness filled her. Leaning her weight onto her right leg, she lifted her left to straddle him completely and then impaled herself. A groan of pleasure shuddered out of him and his strong arms surrounded her. He tensed as if to roll her onto her back and take her hard. But she wanted to take right now. He could have his turn later.

Bracing her hands on the bed just above his shoulders, she pushed her torso upward about a foot, taking care to keep his cock in place. “My breasts…” she managed to say. “Your mouth…” Jake’s hands left her waist and came around to capture her breasts, molding them together and drawing both of her nipples into his mouth at once. Electric sparks shot from the peaks of her breasts throughout her body. Now the guttural groan came from inside Sophia. She began to buck against his cock, taking him in deeper and deeper, forcing him against that ember of need burning in her depths. “Ah, ah, ah…” Was it her voice or his that ripped at the air? It didn’t matter for, as the question whipped through her mind, she hit just the right spot and the two of them exploded together.

Chapter Twelve “How about a late supper?” Sophia tucked her blouse into her skirt as she crossed her office toward the door about two hours later. The most intense two hours of her life, they had left her energized and satisfied in a way she’d never experienced before. Her bones actually seemed to hum and she wanted the sensation to go on. She looked over her shoulder. “I make a killer omelet.” Fastening the button on his jeans, Jake followed her. “An omelet sounds great. I really worked up an appetite.” Sophia giggled—giggled! She hadn’t uttered such a childishly free sound since she was nine years old. The vibrations it sent through her felt great. Opening the door, she stopped and waited for Jake to join her. As he approached her buttoning that flannel shirt over his wonderful chest, his hips swayed in a naturally seductive way that made her flush. “You sure know how to move your hips, mister,” she said. “I could say the same about you, darlin’.” Sophia linked her arm through his and walked with him into the short hallway that led to the club. “If you play your cards right, you can work up an appetite like that every night.” He tightened his biceps against her arm as he looked down at her with a playful expression. “And here I was thinking I’d have to fake a service call on Miss Fancy to get some more action.” Sophia pulled him to a stop. Facing him, she placed her fingertips against Jake’s chest. “You don’t have to fake anything to spend time with me. I hope you know that.” His eyes shifted, moving over her face. “Well, I do believe in the legend of Miss Fancy,” he quietly answered. “So I can’t help wondering if she’s had some effect on you. If maybe she is the reason we got together tonight.” Sophia leaned in close. “Miss Fancy had nothing to do with it,” she replied just as quietly. “Eventually, I would have fallen for you whether we got stuck in the elevator or not. I just had to let myself go. I just had to follow my own…” She paused and licked her lower lip. “My own needs.” He pressed his lips tenderly to hers. “I was hoping to hear you say that. And any time you want to let yourself go, you feel free to give me a call. As long as I can do the same.” Sophia leaned in for another, deeper kiss. She could sure get used to having this man

around. He swatted her playfully on the butt. “Now how about that omelet, woman?” Giving him a mock scowl, she planted her palm against his rock-hard backside. “Careful with that kind of talk or you’ll be the one working the skillet.” Laughing, he slid his arm around her waist. “You’d be surprised at how well I know my way around a kitchen.” Still laughing, they walked together across the quiet club to the lobby door. All the celebrants had left and, at nearly two-thirty in the morning, the whole building felt still above them. Completely wrapped up in the man beside her, Sophia didn’t notice they were headed for the elevator until they’d stepped inside it. “Are you really sure this thing is safe?” she asked, clinging to his arm. Jake grinned again. “Sure. Besides, it’s well after midnight. It’s not Valentine’s Day any more.” “I’ve never known Miss Fancy to limit her activities to holidays.” Jake pressed the button for the tenth floor and then looked at her with amusement glittering in his eyes. “You just told me you don’t believe in the legend.” “I don’t,” she said. Just as the doors started to slide closed, someone called Sophia’s name. A hand appeared to catch one of the doors. Sam, the late night bartender, pushed the doors open. “You need to sign for the nightly deposit,” he said, holding out a thick manila envelope with the receipts in it. A weary smile lit his freckled face and his straw colored hair spiked up on top of his head. “Oh, sorry.” Sophia reached for the envelope. “I forgot.” Understandably. She’d had other things on her mind. “No problem.” Sam glanced curiously at Jake as he stepped inside the elevator to hand over the receipts. “I just took a cat-nap while I waited for you to come back out. Um…you got a little something on your jacket, boss.” Sophia looked down and blushed at the sight of the grease stains that Jake had left on her clothes. Definite fingerprints stained her jacket lapel. She shifted, standing so the bartender wouldn’t see the marks on her backside. The elevator doors slid closed, startling Sam so that he stumbled. Because she wasn’t paying attention to it, the envelope bent against Sophia’s fingers, popped open and most of the contents spilled to the floor. “Man, can I get any clumsier?” Sam made the complaint with a grin as he knelt to pick up the money and credit card receipts. “I don’t even remember how many drinks I spilled tonight.” He glanced up at Sophia, apparently oblivious to the odd fact that the doors had caused his forward lurch. “Don’t worry, boss. I only spilled the cheap stuff.” Scooping up the money and receipts, he began to hum an out of key tune. Sophia looked at Jake. His lips twitched as he fought hard to keep from laughing. He slid an arm back around her waist. “That was strange,” he whispered against her ear. “Don’t you think?” Sophia shook her head. The man was so superstitious. But she didn’t care about legends or faulty elevators or even the grease stains on her clothes. Settling into his embrace, she rested her head against his shoulder. A pleasant weariness floated through her, along with a sense of rightness that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She could easily fall in love with this man.

That thought hit her just as the elevator slid to a halt on the sixth floor. Before she could question it, the doors opened to reveal a couple dancing slowly in the corridor, their cheeks pressed together, their bodies pressed even closer. Still stunned by the direction of her thoughts, Sophia didn’t immediately recognize either of them for several moments. Then the man’s identity hit her, surprising her enough to ask, “Russell, is that you?” Her accountant lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. His cheeks went ruddy as he recognized Sophia and he started to release the woman with whom he danced. “Oh, no,” the woman said, tightening her grip on him. “I’m not letting you go just yet.” Sophia and Jake laughed. Even Sam stopped humming to look up and give a chuckle. Sophia recognized Devon Dubois, the dance instructor who rented a large space on the sixth floor of the building—coincidentally, just down the hall from Russell’s office—and made quick introductions. Devon snuggled both her arms around one of Russell’s and led him into the elevator. “We were just on our way out to a late supper,” she said. “Come with us,” Jake invited, pushing the tenth-floor button again. “Sophia says she makes a killer omelet.” “That sounds wonderful.” Devon turned her dark eyes toward Russell. “That is, if it’s all right with you, Russell.” Russell lifted one eyebrow as he returned Devon’s gaze. Sophia couldn’t miss the light shining in his eyes. Something bold had definitely developed in his usually timid personality. “Sure,” he said. “I guess we can do that.” The elevator doors closed behind them and the car continued its ascent. Listening to Sam humming as he continued to pick up the spilled cash and receipts, Sophia studied the other couple. Devon was always so in command and Russell usually maintained a low profile no matter the situation. At the moment, their roles seemed to have reversed and both appeared happy with that reversal. Just as Sophia was happy with her new role in what she hoped would become a long-term relationship with Jake. “You two looked good dancing together,” Jake said. “I’ve been thinking about learning to dance.” He looked down at Sophia. “What do you think? Maybe we could learn together.” “That could be fun.” Sophia looked at Devon, remembering an idea she’d toyed with recently. “In fact I’ve been thinking about sponsoring a dance class down at the club. Would you be interested in teaching it and helping me put together a contest for the students? Like some of those dance contests on television? It might bring in some extra business for both of us.” Devon and Russell exchanged glances of what looked like disbelief. Unsure why they looked so surprised, Sophia sweetened the deal. “I’d be willing to give you half-rent at your place for as long as we do it. I’m thinking at least three months. If it’s successful, we can do it again in the fall.” Devon squeezed Russell’s arm and bounced on her toes as she smiled broadly. “I would love to do it,” she said. “Great,” Sophia said. “We’ll discuss the details over our omelets.” The elevator eased to a stop again on the eighth floor. Puzzled by the number of people up and about in her building so late, Sophia peered outside as the doors slid open. She was surprised to see one of her cocktail waitresses, Kelly Flynn, standing in the corridor with her head on the shoulder of a handsome young man. Kelly’s shoes dangled from one hand and both she and her companion wore contented expressions. A moment passed before they appeared to

realize they weren’t alone. Kelly met Sophia’s eyes and a lovely flush swept up her face. Sophia hoped she looked half as pretty when she was embarrassed. “Kelly,” she said. “Your shift ended hours ago. What are—” Her question ended in a mild grunt as Jake’s elbow dug into her side. The obvious truth hit her as the young man with Kelly also blushed. “Oh,” Sophia said. “Of course. I’m, uh, just surprised to see you here so late.” And not quite sure how she felt about one of her best hostesses being involved with a building tenant. Kelly stared at Sophia for a moment and then began to stutter. “Ms. Mitzki, I…that is…I was working your brother’s party but he didn’t need two cocktail waitresses. I was on my way down—” “It’s all right,” Sophia interrupted, putting aside her old rule about not fraternizing with repairmen or tenants. Her hostesses were mature adults—Kelly one of the most responsible. She should be able to pursue her own relationships where she wished. Rules, after all, were made to be broken. Especially in matters of the heart. “You don’t have to explain.” She looked at the young man who stood with his arm around Kelly. “You’re the reflexologist.” He offered his free hand to her. “Connor Latimer.” “It’s nice to see you again.” Sophia gestured toward Jake. “Kelly, Connor, this is Jake Christian.” “Actually, we met earlier this evening,” Jake said, shaking hands with Connor. Connor nodded. “That’s right. You’re the elevator repairman.” “Guilty.” Jake offered his hand to Kelly and grinned. “It’s nice to meet you both.” “And this is Russell Finch and Devon Dubois,” Sophia continued, gesturing toward the other couple standing at the back of the elevator. “They’re also business tenants in the building.” Arms still wrapped around each other, Russell and Devon each gave a nod of greeting. Kneeling in another corner behind them, Sam tugged on Jake’s pant leg. “Excuse me, Jake but you’re standing on a twenty.” Jake lifted his foot so that the young bartender could pick up the bill. Then, he looked back at the couple standing in the corridor. “And this is the bartender, Sam,” he said. “I know Sam.” Kelly leaned around Sophia to look at the young man. “How’s it going?” “Just great, Kelly.” The young bartender grinned, waved a greeting to Connor and then went back to picking up his mess. “Going up?” Jake asked. Kelly shook her head. “Actually, we were just on our way out for supper.” “Yeah, I’m starving,” Connor added. He peered around the elegant interior of the car. “But are you sure this elevator is safe? We were stuck in it earlier, remember?” Jake tightened his grip around Sophia’s waist. “Oh, it’s safe, all right.” “We’re headed up to the penthouse to make omelets,” Sophia said, knowing that Jake believed Miss Fancy had something to do with Kelly and Connor being together too. She had to admit that the number of couples getting together tonight was odd. Or was it? There had been stories over the years and this building did seem to enjoy more than its fair share of marriages. “Why don’t you join us?” Kelly and Connor exchanged glances. As Kelly opened her mouth to answer, Connor’s stomach growled loudly. Everyone laughed. “Well,” Devon said. “I guess that answers that.”

Jake beckoned the newcomers inside. “Come on in.” Kelly and Connor entered the elevator. Looking down at Sam, Kelly smiled. “Hey, Sam. Drop something?” The young bartender peered at her from around Sophia’s legs. “Very funny.” The elevator doors slid closed and Sam sat back on his heels. Sophia noticed that quite a bit of money still littered the floor of the car. She supposed she ought to be concerned but she suspected her money was safe with this group. In fact, she’d never felt safer in her life than she did right now, standing in Jake’s embrace. “I may as well ride all the way to the top with you,” Sam said. “It’s going to take me that long to pick up all of this stuff.” A few moments later, the elevator eased to a stop on the ninth floor. Sophia was surprised once more to see her brother and one of her newest tenants standing in the corridor. “Hey, sis,” Alex said. “Quitting time already?” Sophia nodded. “Quitting time.” Alex gestured toward the young woman at his side. “You know Pepper MacKay, don’t you?” “Of course.” Sophia recognized the quiet musician she’d rented an apartment to a couple of months earlier. “How are you, Ms. MacKay?” Pepper inclined her head toward Sophia. “I’m fine, thanks.” Alex tugged Pepper close against his side. “And she’ll be even better once we get some food in her.” “Food seems to be on everyone’s mind.” Jake drew Sophia back from the doorway. “Come on in,” he said to the other couple. “But we’re going down,” Alex said. “The Mitzki kitchen is open and you won’t get better food anywhere in town at this hour. Besides, I’ll need you to run interference for any of your party guests who might still be hanging around.” Sophia beckoned them inside. “Come on.” As the rest of the group shifted to the rear of the elevator, Alex and Pepper stepped inside. “Speaking of your party, why aren’t you there?” Sophia asked as Jake pressed the button for the tenth floor yet again. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen in this crowded car if it decided to malfunction at this point. Things were a little more than cozy. Alex settled Pepper closer against his side. “I went to Pepper’s place to apologize for the loud music.” “We haven’t heard any music in about half an hour,” Pepper said. “Maybe everyone has gone.” “That could just mean they’re too drunk to put in another CD,” Sophia quipped, giving her brother a playful slug on the shoulder even as she wondered about his relationship with the pretty pianist. In spite of all of his recent successes, Alex had been a little depressed lately. He’d muttered something just this morning about the longevity of his art. It made no sense to her at the time but she’d been in too big a hurry to stick around and talk to him. She studied her brother’s face. He certainly didn’t look depressed at the moment. In fact he looked downright satisfied. But was it because of the young woman at his side or because of the possessive grip of Jake’s arms around her own waist? She knew that, in addition to his own worries, her brother had been concerned about her love life—or lack of it—lately. Alex’s eyes glittered as he looked from her to Jake but Sophia just smiled. She’d explain

things to her brother later. And she’d ask some questions of her own. Jake’s breath stirred the hair just behind Sophia’s ear. A delicious shiver ran through her and she wished suddenly that they were back in her office downstairs, alone and naked. She wondered how quickly she could feed all these people and get them on their way. The elevator doors opened at last on the tenth floor and the group filed out two by two. Sophia looked at Jake as they stepped off and she found him smirking. She knew he was thinking that all these couples had come together tonight on the elevator. “Hey there, Claudia,” Alex said. Sophia looked forward to see her brother’s voice coach, Claudia Wainright, approaching along the corridor. “I figured you’d have gone home a long time ago,” Alex said as the beautiful woman drew near. “Someone had to stick around and make sure none of your so-called friends made off with anything valuable.” Claudia looked sleepy, her lids heavy over her brown eyes. “Especially since you disappeared hours ago.” “Hours ago, huh?” Sophia smirked at her brother and then looked back at Claudia. “I’m making omelets for everyone. Would you like to join us?” Claudia suppressed a yawn and shook her head. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll take a rain check.” Sophia nodded. “Any time.” As the group started toward the penthouse, Claudia stepped onto the elevator. Sam, rising from the floor, pushed the last of the cash inside the envelope. “Oh!” Sophia snapped her fingers. “I still need to sign that deposit, Sam.” Sam offered her the envelope and a pen. “Are you sure you don’t want me to count it again?” Sophia glanced around the floor of the elevator. Except for the bench, there was nothing for any of the cash to have drifted under. “Oh, I’m sure you found it all.” Sophia scribbled her signature on the envelope and then handed it and the pen back to him. “Thanks, Sam. I’ll see you tonight.” “Eight o’clock sharp.” Tucking the envelope under his arm, Sam went back to humming. Sophia slipped her arm around Jake’s again and they turned away from the elevator together. A sudden cold draft swept between them. Shuddering, they looked at each other and then over their shoulders to see Claudia glaring at Sam as the bartender continued to hum his off-key tune. “What the hell is that noise you’re making?” the woman demanded. The doors started to close but not before Sophia saw something she couldn’t believe. The hazy image of an elderly woman dressed in black stood between Claudia and Sam, a mischievous smile on her face. As quickly as Sophia saw it, the image vanished up toward the elevator ceiling. The doors closed. Sophia looked at Jake in disbelief. “Did I just see what I think I saw?” Grinning, he lifted one eyebrow. “A little old lady with a twinkle in her eye?” The elevator bell dinged. Looking back at it, Sophia saw by the floor indicator that the elevator had stopped again somewhere between floors. She shook her head. “All right, you’ve convinced me.” Slipping his arms around her, Jake drew her close. “Miss Fancy convinced you,” he said, just before he kissed her.

***** Fancy hovered near the ceiling of the old elevator. If she’d still possessed a physical heart, it would have been beating a mile a minute. So close. One more couple to go. She looked at the young man below. So full of grins and good humor, he didn’t appear to be a good match for the all-business woman standing near him. Bringing them together presented almost more of a challenge than she wanted to handle. And it was too late anyway. Valentine’s Day had ended hours ago. She had missed her opportunity for this year. Something warmed her face. A light caught her eye from above. Looking up, she gasped. “Hiram!” Her dear husband hovered above her, a beautiful golden light surrounding him. The glow set his silver hair to shimmering and his blue eyes to twinkling. “You never could count, Fancy.” He smiled and reached a hand toward her. “You’ve done it. You have enough lovers…an even five hundred couples. It’s time to come home.” “Oh, Hiram.” She could barely see for the moisture in her eyes. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Could there be tears in Heaven? “Happy tears only,” he said, reading her mind. He caught her hand and drew her toward him. “You’ve brought together all the couples you promised. And you did it in plenty of time.” “But Valentine’s Day ended—” “Not in Hawaii. That’s where we married, remember?” “Of course I remember.” Confused, Fancy blinked. “But we’re not in Hawaii now.” “No but that doesn’t change the physics of time. Hawaii is six hours behind New York. If you’d needed it, you’d have a couple of hours more. But you don’t need it. Our great-something-granddaughter and her repairman made your thousand.” His eyes twinkled. “If you’re ready, darling, it’s time to go.” “I am so ready!” She threw her arms around him and held him for a long moment. But even as she inhaled his familiar peppermint and tobacco scent, something nibbled at her conscience. Drawing back, she glanced down at the young couple standing stiffly below. “Hiram—” He chuckled and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I guess we have time for one more little romantic arrangement.” Fancy turned to her dear husband, her heart swelling with joy. “But this time we’ll do it together, my love.”