his reaction to what must look like a good reason why not to have a fling, but because she couldn’t withstand another shot of Mr. Tanned, Muscular and Nearly Naked.
The coffee wasn’t that strong.
Anthony found his suit and reemerged. “Can I leave you alone with this guy?”
He wasn’t really worried about her safety or else he wouldn’t have asked. But he liked to mark his territory to make it clear he’d only stepped out for a while.
“Harley will be fine,” Gerard said before she could answer. “She can give me a ride back to my car.”
“My pleasure,” she said dryly.
Anthony nodded, kissed her on the head, flipped the dry-cleaning bag over his shoulder and didn’t acknowledge Gerard as he walked out the door.
“Did you find everything you needed?” she asked Gerard, to bridge through her sudden awareness that they were alone.
He nodded. “Feeling better this morning?”
“Coffee’s doing wonders.”
He shoved his fingers through his damp hair, making his biceps pop enough to catch her attention. Forcing her attention upward, she met those penetrating eyes and more fuzz cleared from around her brain. Suddenly she remembered being cradled against his strong chest, the way his tight butt had felt between her thighs with the chopper growling beneath them. The way his touch had set her body on fire.
“I’ll get dressed and, whenever you’re ready, we can go,” he said pleasantly. “Sound good?”
She nodded, and he disappeared into her bathroom in a flash of tanned motion. He didn’t ask who Anthony was, didn’t ask about their relationship. For a man who’d been gunning to get her into bed, he didn’t seem interested in her personal life.
Unless meeting Anthony had convinced him to give up his stupid idea of a fling. Or maybe he was just like Anthony—willing to share so long as he got her undivided attention when his turn came around.
The thought alone made her scowl, and she couldn’t decide why she felt so angry—at Anthony and Gerard.
Must be the hangover, because she certainly didn’t care what Gerard wanted. But Anthony…well, okay, maybe she was a bit disappointed, but at least she knew what to expect from him.
ANTHONY DILEO AUTOMOTIVE wasn’t a low-end auto-repair concern run out of the man’s garage. This business rivaled the size of a service department at any car dealership and fitted a few puzzle pieces into place about Anthony DiLeo.
Ambitious. Business savvy. A hands-on owner, if Mac had read the work shirt right. But this character assessment didn’t answer the all-important question—who was this guy to Harley?
Something about their relationship struck him wrong. If they’d been dating, would Anthony have left another man standing half-naked in her bedroom? Mac didn’t think so, but he didn’t have the whole picture—about Harley or her relationship with the auto mechanic. Yet.
Mac needed to clear his head so he could concentrate on his grandfather’s case. In order to do that he needed to deal with the woman who was distracting him. He’d spent the night mulling both the problems and had formulated a rough idea. He just needed to ask a few questions before he implemented his plan.
He was at Anthony DiLeo Automotive for those answers.
Entering through the main office’s glass door, Mac took in the spacious waiting area as he made his way to the desk. The woman behind it sat with a telephone earpiece protruding from her right ear. The epitome of efficiency, this woman juggled a call, credit-card approval and a handheld radio that blared out a question about the whereabouts of someone Mac could only assume was a mechanic.
“I want to see Anthony,” he said.
She glanced up with a pleasant smile. “What do you want to see him about?”
“Personal.”
She pressed a button on a switchboard. “Anthony, there’s a…” She glanced at him expectantly.
“Mac Gerard.”
“…Mac Gerard here to see you about something personal.”
He knew he’d been granted a meeting when the woman stood, leaned over the counter and pointed down a hall leading out of the reception area. “Straight down there, second door on the right. If you get to the garage you’ve gone too far.”
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