newly renovated, which meant ongoing construction, the noise of road work and heavy equipment filling many hours of the day. Part of the price the residents paid for being among the first to support the new downtown.
But the nights were another thing entirely. From her fourth-floor balcony, the view of the city skyline beckoned to Macy like a playground, a theme park, a childhood never-never land waiting to be explored.
She glanced over to catch Leo still staring her way.
He’d turned his back to the railing and stood, arms crossed and relaxed. “You like it here, don’t you?”
The pitch of his voice had lowered and softened, but Macy couldn’t think about the change in his tone. She couldn’t afford to let down her guard, or her anything, around this man. “I do. It’s fun, watching the city morph and change. Everything old is new again, or however the cliché goes.”
“Seems to be the way of things. I’ve been looking at condos in the old Rice Hotel. And Anton showed me a couple of the places near Buffalo Bayou he and Doug renovated.”
Macy nodded an acknowledgment, then moved back into the loft, sensing this conversation would soon turn to the weather. Leo wasn’t here for that any more than he was here to discuss the city’s real-estate market.
She wanted to know why he’d come. What he wanted. If he intended to stay. Why she wanted him to do just that when she should be showing the arrogant beast to the door.
He walked out of the balcony’s darkness and into her light. The stars in the night sky behind him winked with but half the sparkle in his eyes. Macy forced herself to breathe.
She couldn’t let him get to her this early in the game. She had to avoid this plaguelike attraction. The man was too logical, too seriously uptight and sensible. She doubted she’d find a spontaneous bone in his body.
Then again, that depended on what one considered a bone, didn’t it?
“What’s the frown for?”
She glanced up at his question and frowned. “I’m not frowning.”
Sliding the balcony door shut behind him, Leo responded to her denial with the bold arch of one brow.
“Okay. I’m frowning. But only because you said I was.” Yes. That made a world of sense. But it was certainly better than confessing her previous ponderings.
“Then you admit to the charge. And I rest my case.”
Macy once again crossed her arms, sending the clothesline of underthings swinging at her waist. “Tell me, Mr. Redding. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?”
“A prostitute won’t screw you when you’re dead.”
She snorted. He hadn’t even hesitated long enough to blink. “I suppose you’ve heard them all.”
“It comes with knowing the territory.” He took a predatory step into the room. His mouth crooked with a predatory grin. “And I’m very good at what I do.”
Maybe so, but Macy Webb was no man’s prey. “Yes. I remember you making that boast.”
“I wondered about that. If you remembered.”
“I don’t forget much of anything. Unfortunately.”
“Except where you keep your lingerie?”
“Funny.” She glared and draped the lot over the back of the sofa. “Okay, I forgot to do my laundry until this afternoon.”
“So I noticed.”
“That I didn’t do my laundry?”
“That you weren’t wearing your laundry.” At her affronted expression, he added, “When you were in my lap.”
“And I guess I should be flattered?”
He shrugged one shoulder instead of answering with a simple yes or no. “It wasn’t like I went out of my way to look. Your chest was in my face.”
“I see. So, what you’re saying is that when my chest isn’t in your face you don’t notice it?”
“No. That’s not what I said. But now that you mention it…” He let the sentence trail away.
Macy picked right up where he left off. “Mention what?”
“Victoria’s Secret? I think she shared it for a reason.”
He was so going to pay for that one. And he could start with a little scavenger hunt currency. “What about your secrets?”
“My secrets?”
“Sure.” She plopped down on the sofa, tucked her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her shins. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To zip through your scavenger hunt list? Get it over with and out of the way?”
He headed for the big square chair in which he’d sat earlier this evening. She watched him walk, watched him sit, watched him square an ankle over a knee and spread out his hands on the chair arms.
“Sure. Why not? What do you want to know?” He looked at her from behind those pewter rims that framed long brown lashes and clear green eyes.
She would not be sucked in by his studly GQ perfection. She would not. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Hmm. What was wrong with this picture? And why hadn’t she studied her list instead of leaving it on her desk to go over in bed once she’d put the loft back in order? “I can ask you anything on my list and you’ll answer?”
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