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claustrophobic. I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. I’ll try the window.” She took a deep breath and went for it, reaching for the ledge and attempting to haul herself up while he gave her a boost.
    Sean waited until she had a grip on the window before he let go of her foot and stood so he could grip her waist for stability and to give her an extra lift. But Kristine panicked and started slipping, her feet flailing.
    “Ack!” she screamed.
    “Damn it,” he muttered with a grimace as her heel connected with his groin.
    “Sorry,” she said, breathless, scrambling for a purchase on the ledge. But it was a lost cause. Kristine dropped to the floor, stumbling backward into him.
    “Okay, we need to rethink our strategy,” he said, readjusting his throbbing cock.
    She shot him a dubious look. “Did we have one to start with?”
    Sean laughed. “No. Probably not.”
    She smiled at him fully and without inhibition for the first time since he had walked into the gallery, and damn, but it was a thing of beauty. Kristine possessed the kind of smile that could make even the surliest old man’s blood quicken a little bit. Kids and old people adored her, and Sean had, too. He’d fallen for that smile, and the reappearance of it made him more determined than ever to take her to bed. To get closure. He needed that.
    “This would be a lot easier if I wasn’t wearing a skirt,” she added.
    “So take it off,” he suggested.
    Hey, if you didn’t ask...
    “Yeah, great idea. Then I’ll scrape the heck out of my legs on the window. Then when I drop down to the street, I’ll be in my underwear. No, thank you.”
    “You’re going to have to hike your skirt up to your waist anyway to swing your leg over, so you’ll still be flashing. I could give you my pants.”
    Her eyebrows shot straight up. “What? So then you will be pants-less?”
    The idea made sense to him. “Yes. You put on my pants, which will protect your skin and your modesty, then you come around to the front door, and unlock this door to let me out and I put my pants back on.”
    “Won’t your pants get ruined? They look expensive.”
    Sean shrugged. “Pants can be replaced.” Other things could not.
    Pulling his shirt out of his pants, Sean undid his belt and smiled. “Take your skirt off, gorgeous.”
    * * *
    U NDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES , Kristine would have loved that type of command. But this was just...weird. The whole situation was so not what she had expected out of this day, and she was having a hard time keeping up. Sean was daring her—it was obvious. He didn’t think she would do it. Or maybe he did think she would. After all, he knew her fairly well, or he had once upon a time, and she was nothing if not impulsive, and always up for proving she had a certain amount of nerve.
    The logic was sound. Wearing his pants would keep her from getting scratched up. They were trapped in this room for at least another sixty minutes or so if she didn’t crawl out the window, and she wasn’t lying: enclosed spaces made her nervous. It wasn’t an elevator, that was true, but the idea of being trapped made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat. Not to mention the front door was unlocked, leaving a very expensive exhibit unmonitored. There was tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of photography out there, and for all she knew, it was being stolen right now while she debated whether or not she could handle taking off her skirt in front of her ex—or almost ex—husband.
    If she were playing with fire by stripping to her panties in front of him, well, so be it. Her ass was on the line here, quite literally, and she couldn’t afford to lose this job.
    So she reached behind to unzip her skirt. “Close your eyes.”
    Sean snorted. “Are you joking?”
    It was stupid, but she felt self-conscious. She hadn’t been to the gym lately. Okay, ever. Plus she was wearing granny panties. If she were ever to be in the presence of Sean again in her