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wasn’t as if Keefe would see her lingerie. This would be a business dinner only. But how delicious to know she was wearing little bits of nothing beneath her dress.
    Her clit softly throbbed at the thought.
    Marci pointed at the mannequin. “I want that set in my size.”
    * * * * *
     
    Keefe glanced at his watch again. 7:06. Marci was only six minutes late, yet it bothered him. Surely she would’ve called if she’d decided having dinner with him wouldn’t be appropriate after all.
    He hoped that wasn’t the case. He wanted to get to know the lovely president better.
    Getting involved with another woman wasn’t anywhere in his plans. There were still tiny pieces of his heart scattered around inside his chest. At least, that’s how it felt when he thought about Jeania. Commitment would be impossible until his heart completely healed.
    That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the company of a woman—having dinner with her, going to the movies, taking walks in the park. He liked waking up with a woman in his arms. All those things were important to him.
    She could’ve gotten stuck in traffic, or had a last-minute phone call, or any number of things that would make her late. A few minutes doesn’t mean she’s stood me up.
    Keefe glanced at his watch again. 7:08. He threw back the last of his bourbon and signaled to the bartender for another drink. He’d give her until 7:15 before he called her.
    I can’t call her. I don’t have her phone number. Shit!
    The bartender set a fresh bourbon on the rocks in front of Keefe. He lifted it to take a sip…and froze. A beautiful blonde stood in the doorway to the bar, her gaze slowly sweeping the room. He let his own gaze do some sweeping, admiring the way her dress clung to her curves. The square neckline gave a hint of the roundness of her breasts. The skirt flowed over her hips to expose her knees and sexy calves. She wore black high heels and carried a black clutch.
    Damn, he did like a woman in high heels.
    Her waterfall of hair swirled over her left shoulder to caress her breast. He imagined fisting his hands in it while he kissed her, over and over and over…
    She stopped looking around the room when their eyes met. With a small smile on her lips, she started toward him.
    My God! That’s Marci.
    He stood on legs that felt like rubber bands as she approached him. “Hi,” she said, her smile widening.
    Keefe swallowed. He hoped his tongue would work so he could talk. “Hi.”
    “I’m sorry I’m late.”
    “No problem.” He gave her body a lingering glance. “You look amazing.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Donegan, party of two,” the hostess said from the doorway.
    Keefe held out one arm, indicating for Marci to walk in front of him. “Shall we?”
    He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back as they followed the hostess to their table by the large windows. Keefe held Marci’s chair, giving him the opportunity to see inside the bodice of her dress. He was blessed with an enticing view of her breasts. They were the perfect size to fill his hands.
    He took a moment to admire the view and the flowery scent of her hair before he moved to his chair. “I’m glad you like this restaurant. The food is great.”
    “You’ve eaten here?”
    Keefe nodded. “My friends brought me here right after I moved to Seattle.”
    “You should’ve told me. We could’ve gone somewhere else.”
    “I told you to pick the restaurant and this is where you wanted to eat.”
    Their waiter, Aaron, arrived to take their drink order. After asking Marci what she wanted, Keefe ordered a bottle of Chardonnay. He watched her pick up her napkin and place it on her lap, her movements fluid and graceful. He’d be happy to watch her the rest of the evening.
    Other parts of his anatomy wouldn’t be happy, but he didn’t let anything below his belt rule him. Influence him, yes, but not rule him.
    She raised her head and met his gaze. “You’re staring at me.”
    “Yes, I am. The view