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  When she moved away again, he released her mouth, dropped his hands to gently cup her ass and thrust his solid erection forward, letting her feel its press against her mound. “I’m ready to take chances,” he whispered. “Feel me.”

  With trembling fingers, she pressed her hand to the front of his pants and cupped his engorged penis. Her hand wasn’t nearly big enough to hold all of him.

  His gaze lingered on her kiss-swollen lips then rose. His eyes were dark, hungry. “The question is, are you?”

  Want flickered deep inside but Elizabeth stiffened against it and dropped her hand. Like his skilled kiss, his longing expression was part of the act. Knowing that didn’t stop her from craving more.

  The ache between her legs was anything but logical and she was a long way from being ready to give up the idea of getting what she wanted from him. Maybe her reckless reaction to him would help with her plan. Somehow.

  “I have a suggestion,” he said, that easygoing grin back on his face even though he was obviously as painfully aroused as she was.

  Not sure if she could trust her voice, she waited for him to continue.

  “At this point I’m not confident you’ll be satisfied with me. Let me take you out tonight, for free—as a trial. If I’m able to deliver, we’ll make arrangements.”

  —

  For the first time in months, Jack appreciated all those high-stakes courtroom battles, the ones that required him to appear objective and emotionless. He’d called on those skills often enough to win cases but never for personal reasons.

  Getting a night out with Elizabeth Sewell couldn’t have been more personal.

  That explosive kiss changed everything. People did not connect like that without a damn good reason.

  She was hiding it well but that hot chemistry was no secret to her either. Letting her believe that he was an escort was wrong and he knew it but an intensely passionate woman hid inside that neatly tailored suit and he wanted to be the man who made her come out.

  Her gaze skimmed the top of the desk then wandered around the room. The question hung in the air—what was she going to do about that seconds-away-from-sex exchange?

  Lost in thought, she fingered the edge of his shirt collar, tapping it with one long fingernail. No doubt she considered everything thoroughly. With his cock throbbing urgently, he wished she’d stop toying with the idea and say yes. Quickly. As it was he wasn’t sure he was going to make it to his private restroom, or if he was going to come right there in his pants.

  Deliberately, she wiggled out of his grasp. “It wouldn’t be a date. Right?”

  Bad odds. He only had a fifty-fifty chance of giving the right response. Lucky for him attorneys weren’t known for providing direct answers. “We want the same thing—for you to be satisfied.”

  With brisk efficiency, she snapped her date book shut, stood and laid a business card on his desk. “Eight-thirty okay with you?”

  Keeping his expression laid-back and pretending he wasn’t sporting a huge boner, he reached across and picked up the card. An accountant? In hindsight it made sense but none of the accountants he’d ever met looked anything like Elizabeth Sewell. Her home address, only about twenty minutes from his new apartment, was handwritten across the back.

  “Eight-thirty’s fine.” He circled around to lean his hip against the desk. “But you need to give me a little direction.”

  “It’s on the corner—”

  “Not to your house.” He grinned. “Who you’d like me to be. What experience you want.”

  She pressed her lips together and took a sidelong glance at the door. “You decide?”

  “No problem. I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

  She offered him a jerky nod and Jack watched the rounded sway of her hips until the tan office door shut.

  Unzipping his pants as he went, he dashed down the hall, thanking the office gods for private restrooms. Stroking his desperate erection, he dropped his head back and let the x-rated slide show, featuring Elizabeth in several stages of undress and aching with need, flicker through his mind. He came quickly, while his imaginary Elizabeth was wrapping her legs around him, begging him to drive his cock deeper. But even after the final pulse, his penis was still aching for her sweet cunt, her name a whisper in his mind.

  Elizabeth Sewell.

  No woman had ever made him jump the borderline of right and wrong but her unusual request, delivered with her sexy brand of composed curiosity, had hit him hard. He hadn’t simply stepped across that boundary either. He’d leapt.

  For the first time he could ever remember, he stood on the wrong side of truth and he was not only helpless but also unwilling, to find his way back where he belonged. He would but not yet. One date to satisfy his curiosity and get over the rush. Then he’d do the right thing and explain her mistake in coming to his office.

  She wanted a bad boy in a black leather jacket? He’d deliver that. No problem.

  He cleaned himself up, went back to his office, stuffed his appeal files into his brief case and grabbed the keys to his motorcycle parked in the basement garage. He’d finish his work at home, then give Ms. Sewell what they both wanted.

  Satisfaction.

  Chapter Two

  “You know, Liz, you’re lucky.” Mandy Malone scooted into the break room of the prestigious accounting firm Harrison, Harrison and Mendez. “Lucky to be you, all serious and business-minded.”

  Elizabeth looked up from her work with a skeptical smile.

  “You’re not the kind of woman guys hassle,” she continued, waving her short, chipped pink nails. “You’ve got that ‘get out of my way, I’m climbing up the career ladder thing’ going. Guys see you coming and get back, afraid they’ll get trampled under your navy heels.”

  Elizabeth scowled at the image as she shuffled the quarterly reports she’d been reviewing back into the file. “I don’t always wear navy.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She closed the file and offered her friend a weary grin. “Unfortunately, I do.”

  No men, at the office or anywhere else for that matter, ever approached her. Why else would she have to resort to an escort service? Noticing the dark circles under her friend’s eyes, she asked, “Steve after you again?”

  After glancing over her shoulder, she asked, “How’d you guess?”

  “You’re gnawing off your fingernails.”

  Mandy jerked her fingers away from her face and tucked her hands out of sight. “He came up behind me while I was standing at the copier.” She winced. “The copier, for Pete’s sake. Not only does he have an ego bigger than Dallas but he’s got no imagination.”

  “What did he say this time?”

  Mandy rolled her blue eyes. “He got behind me, stuck his leg between mine and whispered hello there.”

  “He’s an all-around loser.”

  “Seriously, maybe I should do something.” She leaned forward. “What would you do?”

  With no personal experience to go on, Elizabeth offered some advice she’d heard on a talk show dealing with sexual harassment. “You have to write down what he does and says and when it happens.” What else? “Look for witnesses.”

  “He’s an idiot but not stupid. He never does anything when anybody else is around. Maybe it’s the way I dress.” She pointed to her slim tangerine skirt then scooted over to refill their coffee mugs. “Isn’t there some middle ground? Can’t a woman be appealing without every guy thinking she’s up for grabs?”

  “With your figure, you’d look sexy in a paper bag. Besides, just because you look great doesn’t give him the right to hassle you.”

  No guys ever thought Elizabeth was up for grabs. After her short meeting with Jack Harley, she was beginning to wonder if she’d been missing out on something. She’d never want to go through what her friend was but it wouldn’t be bad to have a man approach her with an offer would it? A real man though, not some jerk like Steve Rawlings.

  Offer of what? That was the mill
ion-dollar question. What kind of man did she want and what did she want him to do?

  “Do you think?”

  Elizabeth snapped out of her thoughts.

  “What’s with you anyway?”

  Heat wrapped around Elizabeth’s neck. Knowing her friend would spot the blush creeping up her cheeks, she ducked her head. “Nothing.”

  “What’s the big secret? Where’d you go at lunch?”

  Elizabeth hated to lie but she had to throw Mandy off track or else she’d have to explain. “Your birthday’s coming up, right?”

  It was Mandy’s turn to look away but not before Elizabeth caught her smile. “I get it,” she said. “Mind my own business.”

  As Elizabeth stood and collected her files, she noticed Mandy’s expression darken again. “Start writing things down. That’s a good place to start.”

  Mandy fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers that always sat next to the microwave. “I guess. But what if he gets me fired?”

  “You should talk to an attorney.”

  Mandy paled as she shook her head. “You know I don’t have money for that. Even community college is expensive. Besides…”

  “Call legal aid, they’ll—”

  “Oh…um… Wait.” Mandy sliced the air with her hands, waving away the cloud of tension with her usual ease. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Mr. Mills is finally retiring.”

  Elizabeth practically dropped the files. “No way.”

  “It’s for sure. I heard his secretary making arrangements for his retirement party.” Mandy grinned. “This is the chance you’ve been waiting for.”

  Excitement spiraled through Elizabeth but a cloud quickly slid in, shading her giddiness. “Yeah, me and none other than Steve Rawlings—Mrs. Harrison’s little darling.”

  “You and Steve got hired on at the same time.”

  The cloud of doubt hung heavily around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Yeah and he was in the top ten for his CPA.”

  “As number ten. He beat you by two lousy points.”

  “And he never let’s me forget it, either,” Elizabeth grumbled.

  “Think positive. That idiot doesn’t deserve to be made partner. You do.”

  Being made a partner was one of the next steps in Elizabeth’s life plan. She stepped into the hall. “You write stuff down and I’ll think positive. Deal?”

  Mandy glanced into her coffee cup but came back with, “Okay.”

  “See you later,” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as she headed back to her tiny, low-status office. Once inside, she shut the door, tossed the file onto her desk and slumped into her well-worn brown chair.

  She’d just gotten the best possible news but she wasn’t as charged up as she should be. Mandy was right, she had to think positive. Be positive. Elizabeth had no doubts that she’d earned the partner spot. All she had to do was find a way to show Mr. Harrison she was the better choice. The only choice. Now was not the time to let personal dilemmas interfere with career goals.

  Jack Harley had messed with her head. That morning her plans had been clear, established. One, figure out what kind of man she wanted. Two, secure a long-term relationship. Three, get married and have children. Before going to that escort service her mind had been filled with fuzzy, homespun images of her kissing a husband good morning and then waking up her sweet-faced babies.

  Now, thanks to Jack Harley, her vivid daydreams were anything but wholesome. Peeling off a man’s clothes and pulling him on top of her was not wholesome. Neither was wondering if her desktop was wide enough for two people. Worst of all, these new visions included Jack, not some faceless, loving man who had yet to steal her heart.

  That man was really more than she could handle. Just thinking about spending the evening with him made her hot and dizzy. Confused and unfocused. Downright liquid.

  On top of that, she’d hardly been able to get through a conversation with her friend who really needed her help. She had work to do, a life to live. She couldn’t go around with her thoughts tangled like bed sheets.

  Silk bed sheets.

  Running her tongue across her lips, she remembered the muscles of his back flexing under her palms, his hungry mouth demanding her submission. If she’d tugged on his shirt, unbuttoned it, how far would he have let her go? Surely one of them would have put a stop to things.

  Right?

  Maybe going to that service hadn’t been such a great idea. She checked the clock. Too late to call and cancel? Even if she could, did she want to? There were always personal ads and the internet. Lots of women hooked up that way, she could too.

  No.

  She’d find a way to make the situation work for her, get what she needed and still have fun. All she had to do was stay on track with her goals and keep tabs on herself.

  Above all else, stay in control.

  Easier said than done with a man designed to tempt and tease. She hadn’t been able to stay in control for fifteen minutes, how was she ever going to make it all night?

  —

  Fresh from a hot shower, Elizabeth paced her bedroom. Usually the muted peach and lavender colors soothed her frayed nerves but at that moment relaxation was out of the question. Her long-standing can-do attitude seemed to have vanished when she needed it most. With less than an hour before Jack arrived, she really had to pull herself together.

  She crossed the room and padded to the kitchen, looking for her purse. Again. Every time she thought about that kiss, that body—that hard cock overfilling her palm, her libido started racing again and she started imaging things.

  Like her, kicking off her panties, pulling her skirt up and shoving Jack’s pants down, pushing him into that plush burgundy chair and then straddling that enormous shaft like a pro. Jack would yank open her blouse, unhook her bra and her breasts would spill out. He’d try to suck her tight nipples but she’d be pumping up and down his huge penis so hard, her breasts would bounce just past the reach of his sexy mouth. They’d come at the same time, panting and…

  Forgetting all about her purse, again, she pulled open the freezer door and stuck her flushed face in. She couldn’t keep this up. If she did, she’d soon be considering a trip to Vegas, where it was okay to pay for sex.

  If simply thinking about Jack made her feel this way in broad daylight, what chance did she have after dark?

  The telephone rang and she jumped. Talk now? Impossible. But the insistent ringing continued, so she gave in and grabbed the cordless phone off the counter.

  “What took you so long to answer? You sick, honey?”

  She checked the clock and cringed. This was not a good time for a mother-daughter chat. “No, Mom. Just a long day at work.”

  Elizabeth could practically hear her mother’s thoughts. Work, work, work. How will she ever find a man?

  “Will the hours let up soon?” her mom asked. “Is something unusual going on?”

  Telling her mom about the partnership up for grabs would be the beginning of a long conversation so that news would have to wait. Elizabeth rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m reviewing a bunch of old files. Nothing you want to hear about.”

  “Well, if you say so.”

  This was really not the time. Elizabeth scrambled for a new topic. Anything. “Um, how’s that new birdhouse you’re working on? The one that looks like a teapot?”

  Her mother neatly avoided the question, to ask, “Have you talked to Carrie?”

  If it was possible, Elizabeth’s stomach twisted even more. Conversations with her sister almost always meant questions about prospective men. “No, like I said, Mom, I’ve been busy at work.”

  “Well, we have a great surprise.”

  Elizabeth pulled the phone away from her ear. Another blind date was headed her way. She slid over to the stove and flipped the stove timer enough to make it buzz, cutting through her mom’s chatter. “I have to go, Mom,” she called over the racket. “That’s my dinner.”

  “You haven’t eaten yet? It’s almost
eight o’clock!”

  “I know and I’m starving. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  Elizabeth clicked off the phone with a sigh. Before she set it down, it rang again. Her mother forgot something. She muttered hello.

  “Elizabeth?”

  Embarrassment and anticipation splashed over her.

  “What are you wearing?”

  She glanced down at her flowered chenille robe. “My bathrobe,” she replied, then cringed at her idiocy.

  He chuckled. “I meant tonight.”

  The rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her back. “Oh, I,” the truth prevailed, “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Wear jeans. I want to watch your ass move when you walk.”

  If any other man had told her what to wear she would’ve bristled but the thought of Jack’s gaze combing her curves made her body thrum.

  “And leave your hair down,” he added, “I want to put my fingers in it, smell it, feel it against my lips.”

  His requests left her wanting more. Intimate requests, things she shouldn’t be hoping to hear from a paid escort.

  Like, “Be mine for the night. For real.”

  “See you soon,” he said softly, then hung up.

  Dazed, she clicked off the phone, set it on the counter.

  What if, instead of straddling him while he sat in that burgundy chair, he took her into a back room, one that had a couch and insisted she take off her panties, hike up her skirt, lie down and spread her legs? Watching her closely, to be sure she followed his directions, he’d loosen his belt, glide down the zipper, then shove his clothes to the floor. That overwhelming cock would spring free, jutting forward with determination. He’d lower himself over her, teasing her clit with the head of his erection, building up the sexual heat, before stroking her long…and hard…

  The freezer. She needed another blast of icy air.

  With those all-too-vivid sex scenes just a blink away, hiding her reaction to that man was getting iffier by the minute.

  She swung the frig door open and cold air nipped at her ears. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this whole finding Mr. Right thing. At least the dates her mother and sister lined up for her didn’t turn her into a nervous wreck. Those guys were safe. Easy. They never told her what to wear or how to do her hair.