“Okay. I’m frowning. But only because you said I was.” Yes. That made a world of sense. But it was certainly better than confessing her previous ponderings.
“Then you admit to the charge. And I rest my case.”
Macy once again crossed her arms, sending the clothesline of underthings swinging at her waist. “Tell me, Mr. Redding. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?”
“A prostitute won’t screw you when you’re dead.”
She snorted. He hadn’t even hesitated long enough to blink. “I suppose you’ve heard them all.”
“It comes with knowing the territory.” He took a predatory step into the room. His mouth crooked with a predatory grin. “And I’m very good at what I do.”
Maybe so, but Macy Webb was no man’s prey. “Yes. I remember you making that boast.”
“I wondered about that. If you remembered.”
“I don’t forget much of anything. Unfortunately.”
“Except where you keep your lingerie?”
“Funny.” She glared and draped the lot over the back of the sofa. “Okay, I forgot to do my laundry until this afternoon.”
“So I noticed.”
“That I didn’t do my laundry?”
“That you weren’t wearing your laundry.” At her affronted expression, he added, “When you were in my lap.”
“And I guess I should be flattered?”
He shrugged one shoulder instead of answering with a simple yes or no. “It wasn’t like I went out of my way to look. Your chest was in my face.”
“I see. So, what you’re saying is that when my chest isn’t in your face you don’t notice it?”
“No. That’s not what I said. But now that you mention it…” He let the sentence trail away.
Macy picked right up where he left off. “Mention what?”
“Victoria’s Secret? I think she shared it for a reason.”
He was so going to pay for that one. And he could start with a little scavenger hunt currency. “What about your secrets?”
“My secrets?”
“Sure.” She plopped down on the sofa, tucked her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her shins. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To zip through your scavenger hunt list? Get it over with and out of the way?”
He headed for the big square chair in which he’d sat earlier this evening. She watched him walk, watched him sit, watched him square an ankle over a knee and spread out his hands on the chair arms.
“Sure. Why not? What do you want to know?” He looked at her from behind those pewter rims that framed long brown lashes and clear green eyes.
She would not be sucked in by his studly GQ perfection. She would not. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Hmm. What was wrong with this picture? And why hadn’t she studied her list instead of leaving it on her desk to go over in bed once she’d put the loft back in order? “I can ask you anything on my list and you’ll answer?”
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