wink, he waved at her.
He thinks he’s going to pass me, and I can eat his dust. Wily Coyote, thinking he had the game all tied up before the outcome, eh?
Time to play a new game.
She raised one finger.
He frowned.
With a sly grin, she lowered her finger until it rested on the edge of her glass. Then, slowly, she circled her finger around its rim, staring at him with a look that only a dead man wouldn’t feel.
He leaned forward, an unholy gleam in his eyes.
For a moment, an old tape played in Kathryn’s head. Don’t play in your own backyard if you want to get ahead and rebuild your life. All that matters is security, security, security.
Security, security, security.
It’d been her mantra for three long years. Whenever she had some downtime, an afternoon to be lazy, or the opportunity to play hooky and do something unpredictable and—gasp—fun, the old tape played again. Security, security, security.
Screw that.
It mattered, yes, but not at the expense of living, for crissake. In Bound in Brasilia, the protagonist was both a kick-ass businesswoman and a hot, sexually adventurous woman. So what if that world was fiction? Couldn’t Kathryn make it real in her own life? Because now was her opportunity. Something had been sizzling between her and Coyote ever since this morning, and if she ignored it or pretended it’d never happened, she’d miss out.
She trailed her finger slowly, deliberately around the edge of her glass, keeping her eyes locked with Coyote’s. Around, then down the side of the glass, cupping the curve of the glass and letting her fingers lightly play, touch and tease, feeling a jolt of pure female sexual power as she watched him. She felt wild and empowered by her boldness.
Empowered and wicked and downright take-me-now sexy.
She swore she could feel Coyote’s reactions to her. Electric. White-hot. Just like in her nighttime dreams when he’d magically appear and they’d act out one erotic episode after another from the book. Although those scenes were set in the jungles of Brazil, a far more exotic locale than sitting here at a rooftop bar, sipping a spritzer.
Although if she let her mind go, the overhead sun could be set in Brazilian skies, the distant, crashing waves could be faraway pulsing drums, and the sweet taste of her drink was juice from an overripe mango, slices of which had been hand-fed to her by Coyote.
Their gazes held for a prolonged moment, during which she swore her heart was pounding more wildly than imagined distant drums. He raised his bottle of beer, drawing her attention to his lips. Broad, seductive lips that fit perfectly into the angles of his face.
Lightly, he flicked the tip of his tongue against the lip of the bottle. Once. Followed by a direct look that described everything else that would follow.
She shuddered as a trickle of sweat coursed its way between her breasts.
“Earth to Kathryn.”
Coyote looked away, breaking the spell.
“Huh?”
Zoe waggled her red-tipped fingers at Kathryn. “Girl, if anybody had walked between the Coyote and you, they’d have melted.”
Her career-minded self didn’t want to be company gossip. She’d seen office flirtations that had seemed merely playful to the participants end up scandalizing a career. Especially a woman’s career.
She flattened her hands on the tabletop. “You think people saw?”
Zoe shook her head. “It’s too crowded, plus the Time-sters are too self-centered to care about much except themselves.” She motioned to a plate of appetizers. “While you were in the Coyote Zone, I nailed us some appetizers. These bacon-wrapped scallops are positively orgasmic. You should have one. Or three.”
Kathryn’s mind nearly short-circuited imagining multiple orgasms with Coyote.
“You’ve been holding back, Kath. When did you and Coyote link up? Spill.” Zoe popped the appetizer into her mouth.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And we haven’t linked up—” although, heaven help her when they did “—more like we’ve felt each other’s vibes.”
Zoe did a double take. “Picking up vibes?” She laughed. “You sound so sixties!”
“Peace and love, baby.”
“Is this my best pal, the career-climbing book editor and nun-in-training? That’s either the best wine spritzer in the world or you’ve finally come to your senses and decided to walk a few baby steps on the wild side. And it’s about time. You’ve been on the success treadmill for the past three years with zero time off. You need to step off the conveyer belt and wiggle your toes in the hot sand.”
They sat in silence for a moment, surrounded by chattering voices and clinking glasses. Overhead, white seagulls flew in lazy circles in a clear blue sky.
“I need to confess something,” Kathryn whispered.
“Something wicked, I hope?”
“Beyond wicked.”
“Beyond?” Zoe scooted her chair closer. “Tell mama all about it.”
3
“HAVE YOU EVER been in a perfectly normal situation,” murmured Kathryn, swiping a strand of hair from her eyes, “and had someone’s touch—just a touch—transport you to a place where anything goes?”
“Hot damn,” Zoe breathed, her eyes wide behind her sunglasses. “This is getting good. Where was this so-called-normal situation?”
“This morning’s team-building meeting.” Kathryn picked up a cracker heaped with cream cheese and caviar. “I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. In fact, I can hardly think of anything else. It’s been hell trying to get any work done, let me tell you. Girl, I’m ravenous.” She gobbled the laden cracker.
“You tease. Stuffing your mouth on the verge of a major confession. Who touched you?”
Chewing, she reached for another appetizer while shooting Zoe a look.
“Okay, duh, Coyote. Hot. Now, tell all. How? Why? Where?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.” She picked out a coconut shrimp and took a bite. “Wow,” she said around the mouthful. “This is fantastic. I’ve never tasted anything this yummy before.”
“Shrimp, great. Back to crazy, I dare you to show me one totally sane person at the Times, and that includes our pal Ethan, whose well-mannered Britishness fools people into assuming he’s sane, but I digress.”
Kathryn looked around. “Speaking of Ethan, where is he?”
“Gone again. Probably off with his new ladylove. I think our pal’s lady-killer days are a thing of the past. But
