He ordered a draft beer from an auburn-haired server in a tight black dress, who had a small tattoo on one sleek upper arm. He kept his attention on the doorway Kim would soon walk through, wanting to witness her entrance and observe her for a minute before she saw him.
He had spent the last hour trying not to imagine what she would be like in action, and he now wondered which of the guys surrounding him might have dated her and known her intimately. The thought made him uncomfortable, as did the image of some other guy tasting the heat of her hot pink mouth.
He did know one thing for sure. He had put way too much emphasis on their brief meeting, and had given McKinley far too much credit as a femme fatale. Not long now, and he’d find out how ridiculous his fantasies had been, because nobody liked a diva who ruled from within the confines of a short, tight skirt, and a lot of people in this building liked Kim.
His beer arrived, along with a phone number scribbled on a napkin. Chaz looked around. A pretty brunette at another table raised her glass and smiled at him.
He smiled back.
Pocketing the napkin, he took a swig from his long-necked bottle and refocused on the door.
Business first.
Several people entered in a group, but Kim wasn’t among them. The noise decibel was rising quickly as the crowd swelled and empty glasses piled up. Chaz could barely hear himself think—which might have been a good thing in this instance, since thoughts turned to her again.
Would she work this crowd or ignore it?
Had someone else been waiting for her before this meeting? That appointment?
His stomach tightened when he thought about it. He was beginning to feel damp around the collar in spite of the cold shower.
With the bottle hoisted halfway to his mouth, Chaz suddenly paused, feeling Kim’s presence before he actually saw her.
Then there she was, at last, the sight of her like a dropkick to his underutilized libido.
Again.
For the third time that day, he absolutely could not take his eyes off her. Tonight, the reason was downright blatant. Kim McKinley was a carnal vision in an eye-popping red dress. Tight, short and silky, that dress pulsed with the word sex. Cut low enough at the neckline for a far too revealing peek at bare, glistening, ivory flesh, it caressed her body, hugging each curve.
Diva with a red dress on...
He stifled a chuckle as she moved through the crowd by the door like a tawny-haired hurricane. He wasn’t the only person who stared.
She had let down her hair. Golden strands gleamed in the darkened room, floating an inch or two below her chin and giving the impression that she possessed a halo. But it was a fact that no angel would dare to dress like that.
Chaz’s stomach twisted at the sight. But Kim wasn’t alone. Another woman accompanied her, as dark as Kim was fair. Points went to him for inviting Brenda Chang, who hopefully might already have knocked some sense into Kim about her future job description.
Another good gulp of his draft seemed to settle him as Chaz waited to see if McKinley would come over, or if she would expect him to bend in her direction. Her beautiful features were set. She didn’t smile.
When Kim finally sighted him with a gaze like a searchlight, Chaz did a quick head-shake and slapped his bottle down on the table. He stood up.
As she approached, his gaze traveled down her length, stopping at her ankles. She looked taller tonight because she was perched on dangerously high heels, the kind he’d imagined her wearing the first time he’d seen her. Shiny crimson stilettos.
Chaz whistled to himself. He couldn’t help it.
Had she read his mind that afternoon?
So you really do know how to make an entrance. Well, okay. You have my full attention.
He raised his bottle in acknowledgment of her presence, and ditched the urge to clap his hands at the show she was providing, sure the sexy clothes were meant for some lucky bastard’s sensory pleasure in taking them off. It was possible she had lied about not having a date.
“Mr. Monroe,” she said in greeting.
“Ms. McKinley.” Chaz gave her a nod.
The electrical current whizzing through the air between them from the distance of two feet felt strong enough to have burned the bar to the ground. He didn’t imagine that. Their chemistry was undeniable, at least on his end.
Fine hairs at the nape of his neck were stirring. Fire roared through his muscles, causing a twitch. These reactions were a further indication of their instantaneous attraction, and also a hint about being so close to a sin-coated challenge.
“I’ve brought someone you should meet,” she said in that seductive drawl. “This is Brenda Chang.”
Chaz held out a hand to Brenda, who took it, though her eyes avoided his.
“I’m happy to meet you in person, Brenda,” he said.
“Thanks for the invitation to join you,” Brenda returned.
“I heard that you two work closely together, and that you’re a good team,” he said.
“Yes, that’s true,” Brenda agreed.
She was an attractive young woman with porcelain skin, dark eyes and a slender body encased in a tasteful blue suit.
Gesturing to the table, Chaz said, “Care to sit down?”
Would Wonder Woman act on any suggestion he made? Quite surprisingly, she did. She slid sideways onto a stool and crossed her legs, placing the heel of one dagger-sharp stiletto just inches from his right calf and making Chaz ponder the idea of what those heels would feel like if they were in bed together. It was a thought he had vowed not to have tonight.
“So,” he began, once they all were in place around the little table. He avoided staring at the spot where Kim’s shapely knee disappeared beneath the colorful silk. “Thanks for coming.”
“Shall we get right to it?” she asked.
This, too, was unexpected. Chaz rallied with another nod.
“I believe you wanted to speak about the Christmas campaigns?” she said.
Brenda passed her pal a silent glance of interest.
“Yes,” Chaz replied. “I’ve read the contract from front to back. But first, would you like something to drink?”
“I could use some Chardonnay,” Brenda announced in a breathy outburst, smiling at him.
“Martini,” Kim said.
“Oh, boy,” Brenda muttered after hearing her friend’s drink order. She flashed Chaz another pretty smile.
Of course Kim wanted a martini, the drink of choice for the young, pretty people these days. Still, Chaz, for reasons he didn’t quite understand, had expected her order to be bottled water with a lemon wedge. He was a little disappointed to have been wrong about that as he flagged down the server.
“What kind of martini would you like?” he asked.
Oddly enough, the simple query seemed to stump her. She glanced to Brenda.
“You always like the appletinis here,” Brenda prompted.
“Yes. That’s what I’ll have,” Kim said. Turning to Chaz, she added, “Now, where were we?”
Was he wrong in his impression that she didn’t know what an appletini was, and that there was something going on between Kim and Brenda that caused Brenda to show concern? He was pretty sure that Brenda had just