She slid it off her shoulders. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for the loan. I fixed the tear in my skirt, so I don’t need it anymore.” Carefully, she folded it in half and held it out to him.
He stepped closer and her pulse stuttered like a pinball machine. He reached out and took the coat from her, brushing her arm in the process. “My job for years was to cover people’s asses. Never before has the job been so pleasant.”
Blood rushed to her face in a hot wave. Yeah. Way out of her depth. “Listen, about lunch. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thanks anyway, Mr. Anderson.”
“Please call me Will, and I think it’s a great idea. The best idea I’ve had in a long time.”
She shook her head, not knowing what to say. He terrified her—not in a bad way, but just from the unnatural pull she felt toward him. He seemed too good to be true, and Claire had learned a long time ago—that kind of luck wasn’t meant for her.
“Are you married?” he asked.
She shook her head again and continued shaking it as he ran through several more options.
“Engaged? Attached? Committed to? Living with? …No?” He snapped his fingers. “Ah! Living without. Perhaps men aren’t your thing?”
That caused her to gasp, and the blush burned all the way over her scalp. “No, no. It’s—”
“Good.” He folded the jacket over the back of a chair facing her desk, the hint of a smile teasing the corners of his eyes again. “Because in all my years of covering people’s asses, yours is by far the best I’ve ever covered. And I want to take the both of you out for lunch.”
How could she say no to that? Um. Like this. “Thanks. Both my backside and I are flattered, but we can’t.”
“Perhaps you should let it speak for itself.”
God, his grin was gorgeous. And he was funny. She needed funny. She needed a lot of things, but this had disaster written all over it. Temp job or not, she was placed here by her best friend and he was her boss, for Pete’s sake. “Sorry. It’s shy.”
“That’s a shame. I was hoping to get to know both of you much better. Maybe get on a first-name basis.”
Holy crap, he had a dirty mouth and mind. She fought the urge to shift in her chair and relieve the ache traveling through her body. She’d never encountered a man this straightforward. She loved it.
Her eyes traveled from her monitor and landed on a vee of tanned skin exposed by his partially opened dress shirt. He’d seemed out of his element in a coat and tie. This, though still not quite right, was much better. Her eyes paused momentarily on his lips, and when his smile broadened, her gaze jerked to his eyes. Busted again.
“You want to say yes,” he whispered and leaned closer from across her desk. “Both of you do. Both of you should.”
Holy freaking shit. She remained stone-still as he placed his palms on her desk and leaned even closer, sending shivers down her spine. There was that smell again—mint and man. And breathing it in made her a little dizzy. She held her breath as he spoke. “I survived against all odds for two tours because of my uncanny instinct to read people. I’m pretty sure I read this correctly, Claire Maddox. I certainly hope I did.”
And right before she turned into a puddle of mush, he backed away. “I’m across the lobby if you get hungry.”
“I already have lunch plans,” she muttered halfheartedly, hoping Heather was free so she wouldn’t get caught in a total lie.
“You could always cancel and join me instead,” he said with a wink.
Claire was sure she’d used up half of her heart’s lifetime quota of beats by the time he sauntered out of her office and across the lobby, disappearing behind the mahogany double doors. He’d known her name. She was sure she hadn’t introduced herself on the elevator—perhaps her backside had. She chuckled at his silly sense of humor, then noticed he’d left the jacket. God, how she wanted to go slip it back on and surround herself with his intoxicating scent, but she took a deep, calming breath instead.
It was a good thing he left when he did or one of two things would have happened: one, Claire would have died on the spot from sheer lust overload, or two, she would have climbed over the desk to see if the seam on his pants was as easy to rip as the one on her skirt had been.
She leaned back in her chair and sighed, unsure if she should curse her friend Heather for placing her in this job, or thank her.
Chapter Three
Will cursed and adjusted himself under the restaurant table. When he’d seen Claire Maddox leave for lunch, it was all he could do to not follow her. Instead, he’d watched her leave the building on his security monitor and gritted his teeth as he wondered who she was meeting.