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dropped to his knees in front of Cilia’s chair. She had a second to wish he would spread her thighs and bury his face there, satisfying the dull throb in her pussy that silently demanded his attention, but the solemn look in his eyes warned her he had a different agenda in mind.
    “Cilia?” His voice was hesitant.
    “Yes?”
    “Do you think…? I shouldn’t presume to ask … but…”
    Cilia’s stomach quivered. She could see this going a dozen different ways and all of them good. “What is it, Fiach?”
    “Could I give you a lift home after work?” The question was phrased with all the shyness of a boy asking a girl on their first date.
    Cilia giggled, she couldn’t help herself. This was nothing she had envisioned him asking for. Fiach lowered his eyes to the floor and pushed up to his feet. His hands shoveled into his pockets as he turned to leave. His petulant expression melted to hurt.
    She could have said no to the egotistical man who had been driving her to distraction the last few days, but she couldn’t say no to this vulnerable side of him. “I didn’t say no.”
    He stopped, but refused to turn. His voice was a frustrated sigh, “But you didn’t say yes either.” He stood there, more beautiful than any man had a right to be, baring more of himself than she was sure he was comfortable with.
    “I work late,” she warned.
    He spun around then, his boyish enthusiasm restored. “I’ll wait.” Then he disappeared to his cubby with a smile.
    Once alone, Cilia tried to get focus on work. Instead, she was ashamed to admit, she began to fantasize about Fiach. She rested her chin in one hand and tapped her pencil absently with the other. She imagined him with great black wings filled with silky ebony feathers. She saw him ringed in red fire with black glittering eyes. Her eyes. She shook her head. As far as daydreams went, it was a good one, but Fiach hadn’t given her any reason to believe he was anything other than what he appeared to be.
    A few hollow raps on the wall of her cubicle had Cilia twisting around in her chair.
    Fiach’s jacket was missing, his sleeves rolled up over his muscular forearms. She noticed swirls of delicate black ink marking his deeply tanned skin. The collar of his shirt was open and she could just make out a hint of pattern there as well. She wondered where else the swirls traveled, but snapped back to attention when she noticed him watching her.
    “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
    “No, I…” the sentence hung unfinished as she realized they were the only two people left in the office. She jerked her head toward the window and saw the deep red and orange sunset looming on the horizon. She had whiled the day away fantasizing about him. Fiach watched her quietly. She stood and smoothed the creases in her skirt. “I guess I’m ready to leave. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
    He shrugged. “I enjoyed watching you work.” She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not. He reached out to pluck a pencil from behind her ear then tossed it on the desk. He offered her a hand and she took it. Fiach used their linked fingers to pull her to her feet.
    She rose, aware of the scant inches between their bodies. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    Cilia thought about it. She had worked through lunch and she had the feeling Fiach had skipped as well. “Is that an invitation?”
    He chuckled softly. “Just as question between friends. We are friends aren’t we?”
    “Yes?” It came out as a question, but he accepted it happily.
    “Friends can eat dinner together, right?”
    “Yes?”
    “Then, as my friend, you won’t take any undo offense to my asking you to join me for dinner.” His brow ached, as if daring her to disagree.
    She cursed. “You really are a lawyer, aren’t you? No one else could come up with that kind of convoluted reasoning.”
    He rolled his shoulders in dismissal. “I am many things.”
    “Aren’t we all?” she couldn’t help but