would spin.
He had to protect her, considering he’d done such a lousy job all these years.
“Your shirt cleaned up okay.”
Marc glanced up as Sierra slid onto the worn bench seat opposite and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he struggled not to gawk like a hormonal teenager on a first date
She eyeballed him. “What? Do I have a smudge on my nose or something?”
“Or something.”
He grabbed a menu in an attempt to do something with his hands other than make a grab for the gorgeous redhead.
Copper. Burnished copper threaded with gold. He’d dated redheads before but none had come close to having hair the color of this woman, hair that made his fingers itch to tangle in the silky waves as it danced around her face in fiery ripples before falling to below her shoulders.
She stood out like a bright beacon, a siren that could shipwreck the entire US Fleet and he couldn’t fathom why a woman like her was holed up in a dead-end town like this.
Someone with her looks and sass, not to mention brains and business acumen by her fancy office set up, could take LA by storm. Yet here she was looking a million bucks in a killer black dress which belonged at the Beverley Wiltshire rather than some decrepit diner and fitting in anyway.
“No compliment? You’re losing your touch, Slick.”
Her eyes twinkled as she picked up a menu and fanned her face like an Elizabethan coquette. “And here I was, thinking this dinner was a move on your part to start a beautiful friendship.”
“Wasn’t this dinner your idea?”
He quickly scanned the menu, surprised at his hunger for a juicy burger with the lot. Insanely, the usual Nouvelle cuisine he ate at Jacques almost on a nightly basis seemed boring. Tonight, he needed something substantial to sink his teeth into. Something that would take his mind off the crazy fantasy of nibbling on the woman seated opposite.
She waggled her finger at him. “Uh-uh. You wangled an invitation and around these parts we’re too polite to tell city folk to leave even if they deserve it.”
“Hey, what did I do?”
Apart from burst into her office twice and rant like a madman over the paperwork his mother had filled out. He hadn’t been proud of his outburst, hadn’t been thinking rationally since he’d jumped into his Jag and hotfooted it out of LA and into this time warp.
Besides, it wasn’t about what he’d done, more about what he was about to do. Acquiring her company would be strictly business. It had nothing to do with her sparkling eyes or cheeky grin taunting him to match wits. As for his newfound guilt niggling like an annoying burr, he’d ignore it. The Tech file was too important to jeopardize over a bad case of lust.
“If I have to tell you, you’re none too bright, Slick.”
“Stop calling me that,” he said, a small part of him liking it.
He’d never had a nickname. He would’ve had to have friends at the exclusive private school he’d attended for that and once he’d obtained his economics degree and MBA from Harvard he was over the buddy thing. Most of his current friends were business acquaintances, guys he’d met along the way to the top, the movers and shakers of the LA corporate world, keen to make a quick million or two no matter the stakes.
He thrived on the dog-eat-dog mentality, the pressure that drove A-Corp to be the best in its field. Buying out companies, carving them up and selling them off in lucrative pieces was a thrill though if he was completely honest he’d lost some of his drive recently.
Success did that to a guy after a while and though he could buy LA twice over he couldn’t help feel there was more to life.
He stared at the woman opposite. Damn sure it wasn’t this .
No matter how attractive his companion, he’d be out of here ASAP. Thinking about spending more than a few nights in Hokeyville made him itch beneath his collar.
“Slick suits you. Citified. Confident.”
She paused, fixed him with a brash
He had to protect her, considering he’d done such a lousy job all these years.
“Your shirt cleaned up okay.”
Marc glanced up as Sierra slid onto the worn bench seat opposite and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he struggled not to gawk like a hormonal teenager on a first date
She eyeballed him. “What? Do I have a smudge on my nose or something?”
“Or something.”
He grabbed a menu in an attempt to do something with his hands other than make a grab for the gorgeous redhead.
Copper. Burnished copper threaded with gold. He’d dated redheads before but none had come close to having hair the color of this woman, hair that made his fingers itch to tangle in the silky waves as it danced around her face in fiery ripples before falling to below her shoulders.
She stood out like a bright beacon, a siren that could shipwreck the entire US Fleet and he couldn’t fathom why a woman like her was holed up in a dead-end town like this.
Someone with her looks and sass, not to mention brains and business acumen by her fancy office set up, could take LA by storm. Yet here she was looking a million bucks in a killer black dress which belonged at the Beverley Wiltshire rather than some decrepit diner and fitting in anyway.
“No compliment? You’re losing your touch, Slick.”
Her eyes twinkled as she picked up a menu and fanned her face like an Elizabethan coquette. “And here I was, thinking this dinner was a move on your part to start a beautiful friendship.”
“Wasn’t this dinner your idea?”
He quickly scanned the menu, surprised at his hunger for a juicy burger with the lot. Insanely, the usual Nouvelle cuisine he ate at Jacques almost on a nightly basis seemed boring. Tonight, he needed something substantial to sink his teeth into. Something that would take his mind off the crazy fantasy of nibbling on the woman seated opposite.
She waggled her finger at him. “Uh-uh. You wangled an invitation and around these parts we’re too polite to tell city folk to leave even if they deserve it.”
“Hey, what did I do?”
Apart from burst into her office twice and rant like a madman over the paperwork his mother had filled out. He hadn’t been proud of his outburst, hadn’t been thinking rationally since he’d jumped into his Jag and hotfooted it out of LA and into this time warp.
Besides, it wasn’t about what he’d done, more about what he was about to do. Acquiring her company would be strictly business. It had nothing to do with her sparkling eyes or cheeky grin taunting him to match wits. As for his newfound guilt niggling like an annoying burr, he’d ignore it. The Tech file was too important to jeopardize over a bad case of lust.
“If I have to tell you, you’re none too bright, Slick.”
“Stop calling me that,” he said, a small part of him liking it.
He’d never had a nickname. He would’ve had to have friends at the exclusive private school he’d attended for that and once he’d obtained his economics degree and MBA from Harvard he was over the buddy thing. Most of his current friends were business acquaintances, guys he’d met along the way to the top, the movers and shakers of the LA corporate world, keen to make a quick million or two no matter the stakes.
He thrived on the dog-eat-dog mentality, the pressure that drove A-Corp to be the best in its field. Buying out companies, carving them up and selling them off in lucrative pieces was a thrill though if he was completely honest he’d lost some of his drive recently.
Success did that to a guy after a while and though he could buy LA twice over he couldn’t help feel there was more to life.
He stared at the woman opposite. Damn sure it wasn’t this .
No matter how attractive his companion, he’d be out of here ASAP. Thinking about spending more than a few nights in Hokeyville made him itch beneath his collar.
“Slick suits you. Citified. Confident.”
She paused, fixed him with a brash
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