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place. All he had were words, and Billie could deflect anything in the hustle-and-bustle, brightly lit environment of the café.
    “So how’s business?” she began, flipping open the notebook.
    “Lucrative.” He leaned back in his chair, propped his elbows on the armrests and laced his fingers across his stomach. “How about you?”
    Humor quirked Billie’s mouth. “Definitely stimulating.”
    Adrian smiled, genuinely this time. Something about him seemed different. More relaxed and casual, although he was flawlessly attired.
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    Shelby Reed
    “Is your shirt custom-tailored?” she asked, noticing how it stretched across his broad shoulders and accentuated the bronzed tone of his complexion. “It looks quite expensive.”
    “Is that question part of the interview?”
    “People want to know what a man like you wears on his day off.”
    “The shirt was a gift,” he said. “The Levi’s I purchased myself at Lord & Taylor.
    Want to check the label in my shorts, too?”
    Heat burned Billie’s cheeks, but she jotted down the information as though she hadn’t heard that last part. She was delaying the inevitable, just as she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, and the humor in his features told her he knew it.
    Straightening her shoulders, she met his gaze squarely. “I’m just going to ask you this flat out. There’s no painless way to word it.”
    “I’m not easily offended, Ms. Cort. Especially by the kinds of questions I know you want to ask me. Fire away.”
    She nodded, took a sip of water and carefully arranged her flatware. Fork on the left, knife and spoon on the right. Fire away .
    “Are you a sexual addict, Adrian? Is that why you’re in this business?”
    To her surprise, he seemed to consider the question, his dark brows furrowed. Then he sat forward and said, “The business swarms with sexual addicts, to be sure. For some of the companions at Avalon, the answer to your question would be a resounding yes. As for me, I simply enjoy sex, enjoy giving pleasure, especially when the woman appears to have known so little in her life.” His black gaze dropped to her lips. “The sound of her cry at climax, the astonishment, the shatter of every pretense at that instant of ecstasy…it’s nearly as satisfying to me as the experience of orgasm itself.” He waited, attention unwavering on her face.
    Billie scribbled a couple of words in the notebook, nothing that made any sense because an uninvited image was dancing across her mind’s eye, one of herself arched beneath him, every muscle straining as she crested that elusive peak. Oh, to make love with this man, to know the touch of his graceful hands on her flesh, the soft brush of his hair against her throat as he kissed her breasts…
    She took another sip of water to hide her illicit thoughts, then inquired, “Who taught you the art of lovemaking?”
    Adrian squinted, as though the answer was not easily retrieved.
    “I’m guessing it wasn’t Mary Jo Johnson in the back of your dad’s station wagon,”
    she added dryly.
    “No.” His smile, usually so practiced and smooth, crept across his mouth unbidden.
    “I was an athlete in high school, didn’t have much time for dating. There were a couple of girlfriends in college. But overall I think sexual prowess is innate. A matter of knowing what the woman wants, and when you don’t, being unafraid to ask.”
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    The Fifth Favor
    His gaze drifted back to her face. “A skilled lover is also a skilled listener, Ms. Cort.
    Despite the fact that I pride myself on sensing a woman’s needs, the occasion does arise when I have to stop and simply…ask.”
    No one had ever asked Billie what she wanted in bed. Not even Ted, the man she once thought to spend the rest of her life with. Throat suddenly dry, she scribbled a few disjointed words across the page. “How do you perform so tirelessly when you have multiple clients in one night?”
    As soon as the question was out of her mouth, the waiter