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me on such short notice. I know you’re busy.” She fumbled with the briefcase. “I won’t take up much of your time.” The faster she got through this, the better.
    â€œWould you like something to drink?” He shoved away from the desk and walked over to the wet bar. “I can mix something. Gin and tonic?”
    â€œJust water. Thank you.” She might be able to get some water down. She crept across the thick carpet to his desk and placed her briefcase upon it.
    She wasn’t surprised by the size or the panoramic view. The office revealed he was a displaced Texan. Plants grew in southwestern pottery, and an antique map of Texas hung on the wall, along with two portraits of old cowboys.
    She opened the briefcase. Reports, tucked neatly in folders, lined the interior of the case. “I have some data regarding the clinic and information regarding our services.”
    â€œYou like the office?” he asked as he dropped ice cubes into a crystal tumbler.
    She glanced up. “Yes. It’s very nice.” He seemed interested in small talk, and she had no choice but to humor him. After all, she was the one who’d come begging.
    â€œYour water.” Instead of bringing it to her, he put it on the bar beside him and proceeded to get a bottle of beer out of a small fridge beneath the counter.
    She eyed the glass on the bar. She couldn’t act like a scared mouse. Not when she’d thrown herself at him a few years ago. He might suspect something.
    She strolled over to the bar like sidling up to a bar was something she did every day. They stood only inches apart. Close enough that she felt a sudden charge in the air and the awareness a female feels when she is near a potential mate. Physiology 101 .
    As he opened the bottle of beer, she glanced at his hand. He wasn’t wearing a wedding band. She had assumed that by now he had probably married some gorgeous actress or model. Of course, his current love life was none of her business. He was none of her business.
    She took a drink of water and then looked at the glass. She’d left cherry red lipstick and her DNA on the glass. “Not a good idea if you were going to commit a crime,” she said, in a weak attempt at lightening the atmosphere.
    He lifted his brows. “Are you planning to commit a crime?”
    â€œYou never know.” She tapped her fingers against the glass. “Nothing wrong with being unpredictable,” she added. At one time, he’d brought the unpredictable out in her, but she didn’t add that.
    He stared at her, his blue eyes dark and brooding.
    She steered the conversation back to the office. Interior design . Such a safe subject. “I love the Western décor. It’s definitely you. And this is a huge office. It appears you have done really well.” She wondered if he remembered that he had not even hinted at his wealth when they were together. Then again, it wasn’t important. None of it was.
    He leaned against the bar and nursed his drink with a look of indifference.
    Time always changed people. She wished it had changed her more. She wished she didn’t long to touch him. To reach out and brush her fingers through his hair, play with his loose tie, stroke his jaw, and cover his mouth with hers. But she had sworn off meaningless affairs.
    He was her first and her last. Every day she lived with a reminder of it, too.
    Cutting his eyes toward her, he asked, “So, how have you been?”
    â€œGood,” she responded. “And you?”
    â€œGood.”
    Well, they’d gotten that out of the way.
    She drifted from the bar on the pretense of looking around and being at ease with the situation. She stopped abruptly in front of a trio of ornate oak bookcases. They displayed several plaques and trophies representing achievements in architecture as well as business awards bestowed on Blackwell Enterprises. But those were not what caught her eye.
    On the