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scalloped edging of her shirt’s neckline.
    Pulse quickening, Clarisse looked down and saw the short black hairs across his fingers and the calluses along his thumb and the fleshy part of his palm. His hand appeared dark and masculine against her pale skin. Unexpectedly, an image of his palm lowering yet further to cup her breast and run a thumb across its tip flashed through her mind.
    She raked in a lungful of air, glanced up and saw something hot and hungry flicker John’s eyes. Flustered, Clarisse knocked his hand away and stepped back in confusion. Then she realized how odd her reaction seemed.
    “I-I—” Clarisse laughed shakily. “I don’t think I’m having a very good day.”
    She could still feel the imprint of his hand against her flesh. This was not happening. For goodness sakes! She was an adult, not some sex crazed teenager! She had to exert some self-control.
    John’s lips twisted into a wry smile. He offered her the remaining clean paper towels. “Look on the positive side.”
    Clarisse arched a brow and regained some of her poise. “And what would that be?”
    “Let’s see.” He frowned, shook his head and chuckled. “There are many positive sides. It just depends on your outlook.”
    “Can’t find a one, can you?” Clarisse smiled in amusement.
    John’s gaze lowered and stilled on her breasts. “I can see two.”
    Curious, Clarisse looked down. The drink had soaked through her shirt and into her bra, outlining her nipples through the material.
    Oh hell! Clarisse pulled the shirt from her waistband. Holding the hem between two fingers, she waved it back and forth, and let the air rush through the space between her skin and the wet fabric. Feeling her face redden, Clarisse rubbed frantically at the stain, but gave up when paper particles started clinging to her shirt.
    “There’s a bathroom in the corner.”
    Her nostrils flared. She hated his smug smile and confident stance. He knew he still had the power to rattle her composure.
    When she came out of the restroom, John had eased his long length into a chair. She glanced out the window that lined one side of the walls and spied a mechanic pulling the tire from the Explorer. Thank goodness! It shouldn’t be long now.
    John snapped open his can and gulped down the drink. The strong tendons sloping from his neck to his powerfully built shoulders, rolled and flexed, making her remember how easily he could pick her up. She shook her head in exasperation. This was ridiculous! She had to stop this fascination!
    She retrieved the magazine and found her drink had crinkled the paper in several spots. She wiped the cover.
    The silence between them lengthened. Absently, she rolled the magazine till it formed a cylinder and tapped it against her thigh. Her attraction to John was something she would have to learn to get over. Pure and simple. And it wouldn’t take long if she set her mind to it. After all, they had nothing in common now. Absolutely nothing.
    She sat down, uncurled the magazine and turned a page. Unable to withstand the silence, Clarisse closed the periodical and pointed at its cover. “Did you do this? It looks like your work.”
    “No. I don’t do models.”
    Her eyes widened in surprise. “Since when?”
    “Almost two years.” John cocked a brow. “And what about you? You’re not modeling anymore. Your friends and business associates thought it strange how you disappeared so abruptly. Why did you?”
    Her fingers tightened, crumpling the paper on her lap. She searched vainly for some plausible answer other than the accident. “I’d had enough of that life. And it’s not like I had any real friends. Most were after what I could offer them.”
    A dark flush colored his cheeks. “Are you implying that I only associated with you because you had something to offer?”
    Sudden anger made her snap. “Well, wasn’t it? If my face hadn’t been in such demand, you’d have been just another photographer scraping out an