had little doubt her use of the singular was deliberate. She had no intention of modeling any more than the bare minimum for him.
Ignoring her hint of impatience, he picked up the binder again and thumbed through it.
Her designs were good. Better than good. He’d inherited the Langsford family jewels, and in addition, he’d bought his share of pricey jewelry over the years, so he was no novice buyer. And to his practiced eye, these designs looked fresh and different.
“This one,” he said, stopping at a page and showing it to her.
She shook her head. “That piece has been sold. I don’t have another one here like it.”
Unperturbed, he moved on to another page. “What about this one?”
“That’s topaz. The yellow gold setting wouldn’t be right for diamonds and emer—”
“Humor me,” he said with all the assurance of someone used to calling the shots—and being right. “I’m not looking at the metal but at the design.”
“Right. Of course.”
He hid a smile. The client was always right. She couldn’t argue there, much as she obviously wanted to.
Tamara pushed back her chair and marched over to a safe across the width of the loft. After opening the safe door, she removed two velvet boxes.
Sawyer watched her intently, his body stirring.
Without looking at him, she stepped over to the gilded full-length mirror mounted on the nearby wall.
From the smaller of the two boxes, she retrieved one earring and then another, putting them on one by one.
Sawyer shifted in his chair.
“You need to put your hair up in order to show them off properly,” he said, his voice resonating in the quiet room.
Tamara compressed her lips, but then, with a show of impatience, as if she found all this ridiculous, and still refusing to look at him, she reached into a nearby drawer. She removed a plastic clip, and proceeded to put up her hair.
Sawyer parted his lips and sucked in a deep breath as heat shot through him.
The image in the mirror was enticing, enchanting even. When was the last time he’d seen Tamara with her hair up?
The earrings were about two inches long, the large, multifaceted topaz stones at the ends of them catching the light. They moved fluidly along with Tamara, brushing the tendrils of hair that had failed to find a home in her plastic clip.
Sawyer resisted the urge to go to her and press his lips to the tender curve of her neck. He knew he was playing a dangerous game that he was at risk of getting caught up in himself.
Tamara bent to the larger of the two velvet boxes and lifted out an exquisite and elaborate fringelike necklace with topaz stones.
Sawyer stood up abruptly. “Let me help you.”
Before she could argue, he was behind her, taking the necklace from her unresisting fingers.
“I’m an expert at doing and undoing clasps,” she protested weakly.
“Nevertheless, let me make the gallant gesture.”
“Practicing for the real moment?” Tamara tossed out, her words belying her response of sexual awareness, her nipples outlined against the fabric of her dress.
Sawyer let his lips curve lazily. “If I were, then I’d do this next.”
He didn’t think. He just gave in to temptation.
Fortunately, in this case, business and pleasure were one and the same.
Five
Tamara felt a sizzle shoot through her as Sawyer nuzzled her ear, and then bit down gently on her earlobe, the large topaz stone of her earring rocking between them as he did so.
She swallowed, holding back a small gasp. Sawyer’s body, hard and unyielding, brushed against hers, igniting a simmering heat in her.
Tamara was mesmerized by their image in the mirror.
Sawyer toyed with the delicate shell of her ear, and then his mouth closed over her earlobe again and gave a gentle tug. All the while, his breath sent small shivers coursing through her.
Tamara closed her eyes. It was her only defense. The image in the mirror was just too erotic.
Sawyer’s hands gently kneaded her shoulders.
“Relax,” he said in a low voice.
Tamara struggled against the undertow of his seduction.
She already knew the power of his kiss, and a part of her couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to get this close—again. What had she been thinking?
She’d reached with greedy hands when he’d offered the enticement of a hefty sale. His down payment alone would be enough to cover her monthly rent. But then what?
This was the road to ruin.
“Sawyer …”
But before she could say more, he turned her to face him, and his mouth came down on hers.
His lips were warm and supple, and he deepened the kiss before she had time to marshal her forces.
The kiss washed over her like a warm summer rain, making her feel vital and alive. In her head, she was spinning, her head thrown back with laughter, her nipples plastered to her wet clothes.
Sawyer kissed the way he did everything—confidently, decisively … persuasively. And more importantly, the effect of his kiss on her was powerful and shocking.
His hips pressed against her, making her want to rub against him. With very little effort, he had her restless and aroused.
The kiss that Sawyer had stolen at the fashion party hadn’t been a fluke. And wasn’t that the real explanation for why she’d let things progress to this point? Because the question had been dogging her?
He was in the wrong field, she thought absently. He should be hawking kisses instead of news. Then he’d be even richer than he was.
Sawyer’s arms, all hard muscle, banded around her, and one hand settled on her backside, molding their bodies together. Her arms crept around his neck, drawing him to her. She wiggled closer, brushing against his arousal and eliciting a throaty growl from Sawyer.
Tamara knew if she was honest with herself, she’d admit she’d never experienced a kiss like Sawyer’s. But then forbidden fruit was a powerful aphrodisiac.
Still, a shred of reason intervened. This was her last chance.
With a last bit of resolve, she tore her mouth from his. “Wait a minute!”
She
