took a chair from the conference table and rolled it to within a few feet of where she stood. She had no idea what he was doing as he positioned the chair in front of the doors.
“Right here,” he said. “Come over and sit down, please. I have something to show you.”
The please did the trick. She couldn’t resist conviction.
She walked to the chair, aware of him standing there with his hands on the leather back, as if he were about to give her a ride.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m doing this?” she asked, wondering what would happen to her very skinny skirt when she sat. Surely he wasn’t angling for that, a leg shot.
“All will be explained,” he assured her, “but not yet. That would ruin it.”
He stopped her before she could sit down. “Let’s fix that skirt first,” he said. “Here.”
He actually came around the chair and turned her toward him, then spun her skirt until the slit in the back was running up the side of her leg. With any encouragement at all, the opening would now reveal an eyeful of caramel thigh. Thank God for liquid stockings.
“Mmm, yes. Perfect.”
It was almost erotic the way he said that word, perfect. Like a man whispering something dirty in a woman’s ear.
He sat her in the chair and knelt in front of her, apparently to do some more adjusting of her person.
She pulled back as his hand grazed her leg. “What are you doing?”
“Relax,” he said, “trust me, please, this is important.” She wasn’t as taken with his conviction this time, but she was very curious.
“Unbend your knee. Here, like this.” He inched her left leg forward a little and then propped her sleek laced boot on its spiky heel, with the tip pointing in the air.
“Good,” he said, rising to look at her. He nodded, murmuring something about how perfect this was under his breath.
Interesting that she had to focus on what he said. It was entirely possible he was doing that on purpose, making her listen. He had a reputation as a persuasive pitchman, a closer, as they said in sales, but there was nothing overtly aggressive about him. Even now, he came across as supremely laid-back, and yet he radiated energy. It was like droplets sizzling on his skin.
She’d heard all the rumors, that Danny Gabriel was deadly smart and blindingly handsome, almost his own species. She’d heard them. She just hadn’t wanted to believe them. No wonder they needed someone to corral this guy.
He studied her, his features knit in concentration.
“Lean back and support yourself on the arms of the chair,” he said, giving her direction as if they were on a photo shoot. “Good. Now relax and arch your spine. Can you give me a little more bend? Try to relax and arch your spine.”
Tess drew herself up and felt the chair move. “The wheels are going to roll out from under me.”
“Here, I’ll steady you.” He moved behind her and gripped the chair. “Try it again,” he said. “Lean into the arch and tilt your head back. God, yes, that’s great.”
Tess’s spine bowed with tension, locking her in place. At that moment, all she could see were the edges of him, a blur. But when his head came into her line of sight, and he looked down at her, she suddenly felt vulnerable. She started to sit up.
“No, wait,” he said. “This is important. Look at me. Look at me, Tess.”
She held on to the chair, steadying herself. As she gazed up at him, she could feel her jacket fall open and her skirt creep up. She was balancing herself with the heel of one boot. Her other foot had lifted off the floor.
What must she look like? What the hell was he doing?
“How much longer?” she asked, annoyed. “I can’t hold this.”
“Just a few more seconds.” He pulled the chair back toward him. “We’re almost there, and you look hotter than hell. Don’t think about anything but that—how hot you look. Amazing.”
His voice dropped low and sexy. He was still murmuring as he bent down and fitted his mouth to hers in a weightless kiss. Tess’s grip tightened. Her whole body quivered as she struggled to get up, but there was no way possible. All of the laws of gravity and physics were against her, and with his mouth locked to hers, she couldn’t move.
“Perfect,” he whispered against her lips.
Tess’s body reacted to the extreme vulnerability of her position. Her flesh felt as if it had caught fire. Her nipples zinged to life, hardening instantly, and the cotton crotch of her panties should have been steaming they were so damp. What was happening? She could feel herself lubricating down there, blushing with shock and excitement.
He broke the kiss, freeing her, and Tess sat up too quickly. Dizziness washed over her. She’d been upside down so long the blood had left her head.
“What kind of stunt was that?” she asked, fighting to get her bearings.
“No stunt,” he said.
“You kissed me.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah? What do you mean yeah? This is an office. We’re coworkers. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“True, but let me show you why I did it.”
Before she could catch her breath, he was standing in front of her. Tess stole a glance at his crotch—and hated herself for it. Did she really care whether or not he’d been as turned on as she had? There was no hope for her.
“Look at that,” he said, pointing to her legs. “It’s perfect.”
The man was a broken record. “What’s perfect?”
“What you did when I kissed you.” He knelt next to her. “Look at how you’re sitting—the way you raised your right leg and hooked your toe under the left.”
Tess saw that the tip of one boot was tucked under her other calf. “So what?” she said. “I was trying not to fall over.”
She settled both feet on the floor, still too dizzy to stand.
Gabriel rose and went to the double doors, drawing them together but not closing them. He left an opening about six inches wide, and then he came back to her.
“When I saw you in those boots it gave me an idea for an ad,” he said.
“An ad? Why didn’t you just say that?” So much for being turned on.
“It wouldn’t have worked. I had to catch you off guard to see what your legs would do. Can you imagine what a shot that would be for your Faustini ad? Think print campaign, maybe even billboards.”
He gestured toward her chair
