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herself as she held his gaze.
    “I’ve looked forward to this all evening. Seeing you has
given me a second wind. I’m glad you came.”
    As the doors opened, he returned his hand to the small of
her back and guided her out. His thumb brushed the bare skin just above the
low-cut back of her blouse, and Temair nearly stumbled.
    The sound of the key card as he unlocked his door seemed to
echo down the empty corridor. Temair stared straight ahead into the dark
uncertainty as he opened the door and led her inside. Never had such a
sensation of pure naughtiness controlled her as it did now.
    She was in his room…alone.
    “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
    A flick of the switch and the room was lit by several lamps.
One sat on the bedside table, and another across the room on the desk. The room
housed the latest in luxury accommodations. An overstuffed chair sat across
from the foot of the king-sized bed, a nightstand on either side, a dresser, a
table desk complete with phone and internet access, and an upright wall unit,
which contained a large television. The bathroom was to the left inside the
doorway and was beautifully designed from what she could see.
    For a man, his room was neat. No clothes strewn upon the
floor, no toiletries scattered about the bathroom countertop. His suits were
hung in an orderly fashion within the open closet, and each matched,
dark-colored and neat.
    As she walked over to the chair, she noticed several books
lay on the desk along with a leather briefcase, a few manila folders and a
stack of business cards. It surprised her that a bottle of red wine sat
alongside two wineglasses and a corkscrew on a room service tray.
    The man did have style. She had to give him that one.
    “I hope you don’t mind,” he stated as he walked over to the
bottle, picked it and the corkscrew up, then turned back to face her. “I took
the liberty of ordering us something. You like merlot?”
    “Yes, it’s my favorite wine. Whites and zinfandels are too
sweet.” Temair quickly shut her mouth before she continued to babble and sat on
the edge of the overstuffed chair.
    Evan handed her a glass, then turned the desk chair around
and took a seat facing her. Lifting his glass, he issued a toast. “To a few
stolen moments of privacy.”
    The heat of his stare singed her soul and ignited a hunger
from deep within to roar to life. She wanted him. There was no denying it. And
at this point, she didn’t want to. After they each took a sip, Evan set his
glass on the desk behind him.
    “I believe I promised you my assistance in relieving your
pain,” he stated as he inched his chair closer. Reaching to take the ankle of
her crossed leg in hand, he paused and leveled his questioning gaze upon hers,
adding softly, “May I?”
    That good Southern Baptist upbringing tried its damnedest to
intervene and put a halt to this adventure. Lucky for Temair, the devil
overruled and backhanded the holier-than-thou into a locked box at the back of
her brain. It was time to experience something new and different, and she
wasn’t about to miss this golden opportunity.
    “Of course,” she replied, then took another sip of courage.
    Temair was grateful she swallowed before his hand touched
her ankle, or she would have spewed it all over him. Nervously, she tensed in
her seat as one hand cupped her ankle while the other removed her shoe. She
tightened her trembling fingertips around the stem of the glass while gripping
the armrest to occupy the other hand.
    Swift and silent, he slid from the chair and settled at her
feet. It was like a beautifully sensual dream unfolding before her. A gorgeous
man cherished her with gentle strokes and tender circular motions of his
fingers, making every effort to ease her pain. This definitely was different
from the simple job she received from a pedicure. This was ten times better,
more sensual and had her hot and horny for the man attached to the magical
hands.
    With each rub of her foot, the hiss