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She gave him a thorough once-over, assessing him as if he was a six-foot-three lobster in a fancy restaurant’s tank. And she was very hungry for some surf and turf.
    Finally, she sighed and crossed her arms. “I’m sure it was an oversight, her leaving without getting what she came here for. So you be sure to look her up.” She turned away, tugging her weather-inappropriate stole tighter around her shoulders. As she walked away, he caught one final whisper. “You might just be an answer to a prayer.”

3
    “E XCUSE ME , M ISS T URNER , there’s someone to see you.”
    Madeline looked up from her desk as her administrative assistant, Ella, peeked around the partially open door to her office. Being addressed as Miss Turner tipped her off to her young employee’s unusually somber mood. Most times, the efficient-but-bubbly young woman would have buzzed her, reminded her of an appointment, then snapped a quick, naughty joke. Ella liked nothing better than leaving Madeline with an inappropriate grin on her face as some staid business visitor entered her office.
    This time, though, Ella sounded subdued, almost awed, and wore a facial expression to match.
    “Oh, damn, is it the congressman again? I told him we weren’t increasing his line of credit.”
    The other woman shook her head slowly. “Nope. A stranger.” Clearing her throat, she blinked a few times, as if trying to physically shake off her dazed mood. After a few seconds, she grinned. And when she began speaking in a rush, Maddy realized her real assistant was back in the building.
    “Look, I just have to say, if this is a sales guy running a scam and he doesn’t really know you and doesn’t really have an appointment, I will so totally take him off your hands. I’ll whisk him out of here, no problem. Show him the door, follow him out, go somewhere private and whip him into shape. Give him a good, stern talking-to about coming by without appointments.” Her expression verging between lustful and hopeful, she added, “It would probably take hours and hours. Maybe the whole weekend.”
    Ella wasn’t exactly the most professional bank employee in the world, but she was by no means flighty. Which meant whoever Maddy’s visitor was, he had to be someone capable of turning a normal, levelheaded young woman into a jazzed-up, sexed-up, babbling twit.
    “Oh, hell,” she whispered, knowing who was standing right outside her door. Only one man she’d met recently was capable of sucking every brain cell from a woman’s head within two minutes of meeting her.
    Considering she’d dreamed about him for the past two nights—hot, Grey’s Anatomy inspired dreams of her being the filling in a triple decker McSteamy, McDreamy and McGigolo sandwich—she should be feeling McPanicked and McCornered. He’d almost surely be able to read the guilty embarrassment on her face the moment he spotted her.
    Somehow, though, she could only muster anticipation and excitement. But she knew that all he’d see on her face was interest and admiration that he’d tracked her down—and sought her out—so quickly.
    “Show him in,” she murmured, knowing she had about thirty seconds, the time it would take Ella to walk out and Number Nineteen to walk in. Just enough time to touch her hair, smooth her blouse and cross her legs.
    She uncrossed them and slid her chair under her desk as soon as he entered. Her skirt wasn’t too short. It was perfectly businesslike, in fact. But the pose seemed a little too blatant… inviting. As if she wanted to encourage him sexually, letting him know he’d been all she’d had on her mind since the moment she’d met him.
    That she did, and he was didn’t change her decision to go for professional rather than come-hither.
    “Hi,” he said. “Found ya.”
    “So you did, Mr. Wallace.”
    “Nice to see you again…Miss Turner. ” He glanced around her cluttered office, at the shelves laden with books and files and the stack of documents