Wie ein Kuss von Rosenblüten. Martina Sahler

her into exactly what she wanted to do. For that alone, she returned the smile. “You haven’t seen the price of the obscenely expensive wine I plan to order.”

      “I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said, clearly happy to have gotten what he wanted, though why he considered dinner such a coup was beyond her. He had an angle here that she hadn’t yet discovered.

      She watched him leave. That gave her nearly ten hours to figure out how to keep Gage at arm’s length while cozying up to him. Hours she’d use to figure out how to pump him for information while keeping him in the dark about her motives.

      Ten hours to figure out how to seduce answers out of Gage Branson without falling for him all over again. All she had to do was focus on his sins and the rest would be a walk in the park.

      * * *

      Gage knocked on Cass’s door at seven fifty-five.

      Nice place. A bit too glass-and-steel for his tastes but Cass’s house overlooked a big lake with a walking trail around it. His own house in Austin was near a lake. Funny how their tastes in views had aligned all these years later.

      She swung open the door wearing a sheer lacy dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Cranberry-colored, which was somehow ten times racier than red would have been, it rendered him speechless. When he’d told her to wear a dress, he’d fully expected her to wear anything but.

      His body sprang to full attention. He could not get a handle on her.

      “You’re early,” she said with an amused brow lift. “I like an eager man.”

      The blood that should have been stimulating his brain into a snappy response seemed to have vacated for a warmer locale in the south.

      Cass wasn’t a college student any longer. Not that he was confused. But he was having a hard time reconciling how much she’d changed. Cassandra Claremont, CEO, might be the most intriguing woman on the planet. She was also far more of a challenge because she seemed to have developed Gage-proof armor.

      Dinner was supposed to level the playing field. Warm up that ice so he could get her used to the idea of selling him the formula because she recognized what she owed him. She might be willing to talk to the other ladies about the formula, but he needed her to convince them, not talk about it. For that, she had to be totally in his corner. How was he supposed to get her there when he couldn’t get his feet under himself long enough to figure out what game she was playing?

      “Uh...” Brain not engaging. He shook off the Cass stupor. “It’s only early if you’re more than fifteen minutes ahead. Technically, I’m right on time.”