ed and deleted a dozen different messages. Each

for a man like him to deny. She n

sage, carefully crafted to be

ngement, I was hoping to understand if you have any parti

cloaked her true desire-to go out-in the gu

s she pressed send. She tossed the ph

ough a grueling set of reps, sweat glist

proached cautiously, holding out a pho

d thud. He took the phone. A ghost of a s

er one. She wa

request as a question of his desires, he wiped his

ts. Wear what

g down her line of

w his reply. It was a brick wall. A

proach didn't work, and the subtle approach failed

o use to her advantage-she made a bold decision: opening a new message, this time tapping the microphone icon, she took a

I possibly choose the right fabrics for my gown

lifting slightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible hin

wer, a towel slung low on his hips,

voice message. He connected his

ice filled

ittle hitch in her breath, the slight, questioning lilt at the end-it

essant that kept his condition i

l heat flood

jaw clenched, and he could fee

underestimated the effe

nsion in his boss's shoulders, the darkening o

e down on the counter. He closed his eyes, fighting

nothing but her voice, he turned to Alex, his

e. We're picking up Miss Sutton