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his thumb. “I just wanted to see what came up when you clicked on the hyperlink for threesomes. I guess I didn’t realize people were so… specific about what they wanted in a partner.”
    “But if we start following all the options that catch our attention we’ll be here all night.” He held her wrist, held her gaze, hoping all the while she’d comprehend his real meaning.
    It would have required a supreme act of willpower not to skim his thumb over the silky skin. And after wrestling his growing attraction to Tempest over the last few hours, Wes found he no longer possessed the restraint. Hetraced a line down the delicate tendons there, absorbing the smooth perfection of her.
    Her lips parted, her faded lipstick revealing the natural color of her soft pink mouth beneath. Hypnotized by the perfect shape of the lush Cupid’s bow, Wes hovered closer until Tempest pulled away.
    “Then I guess we’d better keep our attention more strictly focused.” Freeing her wrist, she reached for her water bottle and unscrewed the top. “I’ll check out the threesomes later.”
    Wes wanted to redirect his thoughts but couldn’t seem to force himself to turn back to the computer. Lust still surged through him like the Eighth Avenue Express and she just shrugged it aside, as if it was all in a day’s work for a pampered, privileged heiress. Did she get off on making men drool and then leaving them wanting?
    He didn’t know what games this woman was playing, but he damn well wouldn’t be leaving her apartment until he found out.
     
    A S SHE STARED BACK into the stormiest gray eyes she’d ever seen, Tempest decided Wes looked angry. No, more like quietly seething.
    Well—newsflash—she wasn’t exactly thrilled to have him waltz in here and take over her home, her computer and her hormones, either.
    “Seems to me you’ve made concentration impossible.” Wes shoved aside their popcorn bowls before taking her water bottle from her hand, carefully screwing on the top, and pushing that away, too. “Has it ever occurred to you all that stretching and reaching over me combined with your infernal fascination with threesomes just might distract a man?”
    “I am not fascinated by—” How dare he? Of all thepresumptuous, arrogant things to insinuate. “Are you accusing me of flirting with you?”
    “What would you call it?” He didn’t raise his voice, instead keeping his tone very, very soft. “I’m not op posed to starting something between us if the appropriate time arises after I close my case. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let you get away with a lot of suggestive talk and sidling up close only to have you leave me high and dry and completely incapable of getting any work done.”
    “You think I’m playing the tease?” And didn’t that just beat all? “I was nice enough to make you popcorn and I didn’t even say a word when you took over my computer keys like you own them, even though I’m more familiar with my computer and this Web site than you are. Can I help it if I’m a little impatient to get through our work for the night so I can clean up the rest of the apartment and get back to my life?”
    “But not impatient enough to point out the three somes link?” He eased back ever so slightly, his self-assured body language somehow conveying a smugness that he’d made his point.
    “So sue me for a prurient streak.” She had so not been flirting with him.
    Had she?
    Forcing herself to consider the notion, she wondered if her sexual impulses could conspire to act without her explicit permission? What if her artistic persona and businesswoman facade hid yet another facet—a decadent and determined inner seductress? She’d blossomed into a daytime TV heroine in record time today. All she needed was a bout with amnesia.
    Maybe she had fallen through the damn sand in the hourglass at 2:00 p.m. today. Instead of transitioning from businesswoman Tempest to artist Tempest this afternoonas usual, she’d