rolled her eyes.
“I saw that.”
“Wasn’t hiding it,” she countered.
“I am your boss, you know.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Donna advised.
The next afternoon, Fiona Jordan walked into the restaurant at the Gables, a five-star hotel in San Francisco. The best part about owning her own business? She just never knew what would happen from day to day. Yesterday, she’d been working out of her duplex in Long Beach, California, and today, she was in a gorgeous hotel in San Francisco.
Smiling to herself, she took a breath and scanned the busy room.
White-cloth-draped tables and booths were crowded, and the hum of conversation, heavy silverware clinking against plates and the piped-in violin music streaming from discreetly hidden speakers created an atmosphere of luxury. There were windows all along one wall that afforded a spectacular view of the Bay, where the afternoon sun was busily painting a bright golden trail across the surface of the water.
But at the moment, the view wasn’t her priority, Fiona thought as she did a more detailed scan of the room. She was here to find one particular person.
When she found him, her heart gave a quick, hard jolt, and a buzz of something hot and potentially dangerous zipped through her.
Luke Barrett. He had sun-streaked, light brown hair that was just long enough to curl over the collar of his dark blue suit jacket. Gaze focused on the phone he held, he seemed oblivious to the people surrounding him and completely content to be alone.
Fiona didn’t really understand that. She liked people. Talking to them, hearing their stories—everyone had a story—and discovering what she liked about them. But she’d already been warned that Luke was so wrapped up in his work, he barely noticed the people around him.
So, she told herself, she’d simply have to be unforgettable.
Luke sat alone at a window table, but he paid no attention to the view. Fiona, on the other hand, was enjoying her view of him a little too much. Even in profile, he was more gorgeous than the picture she’d been given.
That buzz of something interesting shot straight through her again, and she took a moment to enjoy it. It had been a long time since a man had elicited that sort of reaction from her. Heck, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt a zing of interest.
Her gaze went back to his just-a-little-long hair and realized that it was an intriguing choice for a corporate type. Maybe Luke Barrett was going to be much more than she’d expected. But there was still the whole wrapped-up-in-his-phone thing to get past.
Fiona watched as a beautiful woman strolled by Luke’s table, giving him a smile that most men would have drooled over—he didn’t notice.
“Hmm.” Realizing that meeting Luke Barrett might call for a little extra punch, Fiona turned toward the long sinuous sweep of the bar. She ordered a glass of chardonnay, gave the bartender a big tip and a smile, took a deep breath, and studied her target.
Then Fiona tossed her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder and started for his table. The short hem of her flirty black skirt swirled around her thighs and her mile-high black heels tapped cheerfully against the glossy floor. Her dark green long-sleeved blouse had a deeply scooped neckline, and gold hoops dangled from her earlobes.
She looked great, even if she was saying it herself, and it was a shame to ruin the outfit, but desperate times…
A waiter passed in front of her; Fiona deliberately stumbled, took a couple of halting steps, and with a slight shriek, threw herself and a full glass of very nice wine into Luke Barrett’s lap.
Luke’s first instinct was to grab hold of the woman who had dropped into his lap from out of nowhere. She smiled up at him, and he felt a punch of desire slam into his chest. When she squirmed on his lap, he felt that punch a lot lower.
“What the hell?” He looked into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes and realized she was laughing.
“Sorry, sorry!” She squirmed again, and he instantly held her still. “I guess I stumbled on something. Thank God you were here, or I’d have fallen onto something a lot harder.”
He didn’t know about that. He felt pretty damn hard at the moment. And wet. He felt wet, as the wine she’d been carrying now seeped into his shirt and pants. Even as he thought it, she half turned around, grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed at the wine splashed across her blouse, then started in on his shirt. If she tried to dry his pants, he was a dead man.
“What’d you trip on?” He glanced down at the floor and saw nothing.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, then shrugged helplessly. “Sometimes I trip on air.”
“Good to know.”
She tipped her head to one side and long, dark brown hair slid across her shoulders. “Are you going to let me up?”
It wasn’t his first thought. “Are you going to fall again?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” she admitted with a grin. “Anything’s possible.”
“Then maybe it’s safer if you stay where you are,” Luke mused, still caught by the smile in those brown eyes of hers.
She started her fruitless dabbing at his shirt again. Not unlike trying to soak up the ocean with a sponge.
“Yeah,” he said, taking the napkin from her. “Never mind.”
“Well, I do feel badly about this,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“In all fairness, though,” she pointed out, “I got plenty of the wine on my shirt, as well.”
“And that should make me happy?”
She shrugged and her dark green off-the-shoulder shirt dipped a bit.
Instantly, his gaze dropped to the full swell of her breasts and he wondered if he’d get more of a look if she shrugged again. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he saw a knowing smile.
A waiter hustled up to them with several napkins, then just stood there as if unsure what his next move should be. Luke could sympathize.
Finally, the waiter asked, “Are you all right, miss?”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
She was fine. He was being tortured but, apparently, no one cared about that.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Barrett. Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” he said grimly.
