I was going to ask, have you usually worn outfits like that when you met Charlie Bingham?”
“No, he took me to prom. Of course, he’s seen my work clothes.” She peered over her glasses at him as if he were an idiot, but he forged onward.
“What if you had different clothes?”
“What?”
“Not accountant clothes—younger, lighter outfits.”
“More…revealing?” Her voice dipped into the husky range. She brushed her fingers over her blouse’s top button and unfastened it. She crossed her legs under the glass-topped table and hiked her skirt to her knee. She’d uncovered maybe three inches of skin in total, but Dane still found it arousing. She leaned forward, her attention totally on him. “Dane, do you want me to play dress-up for you?”
“More like a makeover,” he managed to say, wondering where the sex-kitten persona had come from.
Just as quick as he wondered, she switched back to frowning CPA. “A makeover? Who do you think you are? Pygmalion? Professor Henry Higgins? The guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?”
“Hey! I meant disguise, not makeover.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know, like wearing contacts instead of glasses, maybe letting your hair down, wearing less brown…” His voice trailed off into a silent sigh. He’d handled this situation with all the finesse of the farm-fresh hayseed he used to be—or even worse, his dad’s bull Caesar. “Look, I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to take this job after this awkward beginning, but if you do want it, it’s yours, disguise or no.”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “You don’t know me, and you’re trusting me with such a big project.”
“I did check you out.”
“You did? And what did you find?”
“I verified your credentials, lack of criminal record, the basics.”
“Ah.” She nodded, relaxing the tiniest bit.
Had he missed something? His P.I. had done a routine check on her. Then he looked at her calm expression and decided to drop it. Maybe she’d gotten into trouble as a teenager, records he didn’t have access to. Unless she’d done juvie time for embezzlement, he didn’t really care. “And Sugar’s recommendation carries a lot of weight. That woman is a walking financial calculator.”
Instead of reassuring her, she frowned again. “How do you know Sugar?”
Ah, she was probably wondering if he was one of Sugar’s lap-dance clients. “Not from her work, at least not directly. She models for my sister Bridget’s lingerie line.”
She grinned. “Oh, yes. ‘Bras by Brigitte.’”
“Yeah. That’s it.” Silly fake-French marketing ploy, but sales were taking off.
“I’ll have to look for some of her designs when I’m shopping. For my makeover.”
It took him a second. “You mean you’ll do it? That’s great!”
She raised a slim hand. “Don’t get all excited yet. Binky Bingham is going to pay me big-time.”
“Hey, he wouldn’t expect anything less.” Binky was used to paying women lots of money.
Her next words proved she knew Binky’s habits as well. “I don’t accept cash, especially tightly rolled fifties. He can write me checks at the beginning, middle and end of the audit, with additional billing if I get involved in legal proceedings.”
“And he’ll pay for any clothing you may need to do the job.”
She raised an eyebrow. “A clothing allowance? Maybe I will get one of your sister’s pricey bras. Sugar says they’re so comfortable, you practically feel naked.”
A naked Keeley? Images of Keeley undressed like the brunette stripper from Frisky’s tumbled around his head. He never mixed business with pleasure, and Binky’s business was important. Dane didn’t need to ask himself what was wrong—he already knew.
“Dane?” Her questioning voice broke into his confusion. “Here, take a napkin before your pants get stained.”
“What?” He looked in horror at the paper napkin she offered him. Sure, she was turning him on, but he wasn’t even close to staining anything.
With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the napkin on the table in front of him and soaked up a puddle of coffee. “Your cup is leaking.”
“Oh.” He didn’t realize he’d crumpled his paper cup while imagining her naked. He grabbed more napkins and mopped the mess. Lucky he’d almost finished his coffee. “So, Keeley. Tax season is almost over. When can you start working at Bingham Brothers?”
“April fifteen is next Wednesday. After that, I need a couple days off to shop and catch up on my sleep. I’ve been getting by on four or five hours a night, and I want to spend all day in bed if I feel like it.”
Boy, did he feel like spending all day in bed with her. He nodded brusquely. “Will the following Monday work for you?”
“Monday, it is.”
“Good. I’ll courier over a check for your advance and clothing allowance, and I’ll expect you at 8:00 a.m. sharp at Bingham Brothers. Wear your new clothes.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir, Mr. Weiss. I’ll practice my shorthand over the weekend in case you want to give me your dictation.”
Man, did she have to use that word? “Not necessary.” He passed her his business card. “My cell number’s on the front. Call me with any questions.”
“I think I have an idea of what you need.”
He sincerely hoped not.
She stood, shimmied her skirt to midcalf and picked up her raincoat. He rose and they shook hands again. “I’ll leave first. We don’t want to be seen together.”
“Good idea.” He felt foolish about the cloak-and-dagger stuff but that didn’t keep him from admiring her ass as she strolled away. Her plain brown pumps had enough of a heel to add just the right amount of wiggle, and the watery sunlight lit the strands of caramel-colored hair that escaped from her bun. She paused before opening the door and looked over her shoulder to catch him staring. He gave a feeble little wave and her lips curved in a small smile.
Then she pushed out the door and disappeared among the busy pedestrian traffic.
Dane exhaled loudly. Had Keeley been trying to arouse him on purpose? If so, she’d done a good job. Talking about his big appetites hadn’t helped any, either. He did have big appetites, and not just for fine food, but for fine women.
But now he had the sneaking suspicion that he could eat a whole can of cherry filling off another woman’s naked body, and that wouldn’t have the same impact on him as the sight of Keeley’s pink tongue licking her finger clean. Dammit,
