Read Now You See Her for Free Online Page B

stripping him.
    Richard let the door close behind them and for a moment they were enclosed in the silence of the small vestibule, the smoked glass of the outer door dimming the sunshine outside. Then he stepped past her and opened that door, too, his movement bringing him so close that his suit jacket brushed her arm and the quiet scent of expensive cologne drifted to her nose. Another jolt hit her, accompanied by a sudden wave of physical awareness.
    This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. Bemused, she stepped out onto the sidewalk. First the Diet Coke commercial this morning and now
Richard,
of all people. Maybe there was a full moon or something, though lunar cycles had never before affected her hormones. Not much of anything had. Maybe she should make a doctor’s appointment, make sure her ovaries hadn’t suddenly gone into overdrive, flooding her with an overdose of unruly hormones. If they were going to do that, they should have done it when she was a teenager and didn’t know any better. She was thirty-one now and didn’t have either the time or the inclination to indulge in any hormonal frivolity.
    â€œSweeney?” Richard waved his hand in front of her face, and she snapped back to the present, flushing as she realized she had been staring at him while she pondered the state of her ovaries.
    â€œSorry,” she muttered. “What did you say?”
    The corners of his mouth curled a little, as if he was suppressing a smile. “I asked if you wanted a lift home. It’s starting to rain.”
    So it was. It hadn’t been just the smoked glass ofthe doors making the day look dreary; the bright sunshine was gone and the sky had turned cloudy while she was in the gallery. She looked up as raindrops began to spatter on the sidewalk.
    Instantly she hugged the portfolio closer to her, as if she could protect it with her body. There was no decision to it, not when the choice was between keeping her drawings dry or letting the rain ruin them. “Thanks, I would. Where’s your car?” she asked, looking around.
    â€œRight here.” He raised his hand, and a dark gray Mercedes rolled forward to stop at the curb in front of him. That struck her as a lot handier than standing on the curb waving frantically at passing cabs, as she knew hundreds of people had started doing as soon as the first raindrop fell.
    He put his hand on her back as he leaned forward to open the car door. The contact was so unexpected, and so unexpectedly pleasurable, that she almost stumbled. Recovering, she juggled the portfolio out of the way as she bent down to slide into the car, continuing across the buttery leather seats to give him room to get in. Her insides were doing the rumba: heart pounding, lungs heaving, stomach clenching. It was the most amazing thing she’d ever felt. Too bad it undoubtedly meant she was losing her mind.
    Richard folded his tall body into the seat beside her. “We’re giving Sweeney a lift home, Edward,” he said to his driver.
    â€œVery good, sir.” The accent was faintly British, the word choice even more so. “What is Miss Sweeney’s address?”
    Richard gave it, and Sweeney stared at him in surprise for a moment before remembering that he owned the building where she lived. She was surprised he had remembered, but probably stock-market geniuses had to be able to remember the tiniest detail. Forcing herself to relax, she settled back into the ultracomfortable embrace of dead cows’ hides. She stroked the seat, delighted in the smooth, soft texture of the leather, and the delicious smell. Nothing rivaled good-quality leather in its richness, its utter luxury.
    Then temptation got the better of her, and she glanced at Richard, to find him watching her and smiling slightly. Funny, she had never associated him with smiles; he was too controlled, even remote, but this smile looked as natural as if he’d had a lot of practice.