Taming the Lone Wolff. Janice Maynard

schedule. Let me know if you need anything at all.”

      There it was again. That pesky, subtle does-she-or-doesn’t-she vibe that made his skin itchy and his sex twitchy. He edged past her, determined to remain in control. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. We’ll get started first thing in the morning.”

      Winnie stood in the doorway, arms spread frame to frame, expression pensive. “I’d better close the drapes,” she said. “So the morning sun won’t wake you.” With rapid steps, she crossed the room. Now she stood dangerously near the bed. The enormous, hedonistic bed, covered in a brocade-and-satin comforter and sheets that were most likely soft as sin.

      Larkin shoved his hands in his back pockets. “I’m always up early,” he said, his throat like sandpaper.

      Winnie hovered, straightening a knickknack, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from the spread. “I’ll have someone bring you coffee first thing. You’re welcome to have breakfast here or in the dining room.”

      The longer she lingered, the harder he got. Hopefully, she didn’t notice, because it wouldn’t do for her to get the wrong idea. He had never allowed his professional life and his personal life to intersect. Even though taking Winnie to Wolff Mountain made sense, and even though he would be the one taking her there because it was his family, he had never had a relationship with a client, and he wouldn’t start now. “I’ll be fine, Winnie. Good night.”

      Her face fell as she registered his clear dismissal. “Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” It took everything he had to watch her leave the room and not stop her. When she was gone, he sank down on the bed, head in his hands. He’d never taken on a case he couldn’t handle. This couldn’t be the first. He wouldn’t let it.