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she hit thirty. And she wasn't
    going to do it by delivering auto parts alone.

    She finally made it over the bridge and pulled into the parking lot for her final
    drop off. As she strode into the garage, the cell phone on her hip started to
    vibrate and ring. Not recognizing the number on caller ID, she ignored the
    phone, smiled at the plump counter girl and handed over the spark plugs.

    Signed invoice in hand, she pulled the still-ringing phone off her hip as she
    headed back to the truck. "Hello?"

    "You're such a bad girl!" a frantic voice hissed.

    "Graham?"

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    When his voice came back it was pleasant and professional. "Hi, Lara. Yes,
    it's Graham here. I have a question for you."

    "What's going on? You sound weird." She shut the door of the truck behind
    her and just sat in the driver's seat for a minute.

    "Mr. Dawson would like your phone number and I told him I couldn't give it to
    him without your permission."

    Lara heard a rumbling growl in the background and laughed. She could just
    imagine Karl's impatience with Graham's fussiness.

    "So?" Graham prodded. "Would you prefer I tell Mr. Dawson your number, or tell him you're not interested?"

    "Put him on the phone, Graham."

    There were some muffled words and then Karl's smooth voice was echoing
    in her ear. "You're a hard woman to get ahold of."

    Satisfaction settled heavy in her belly. "I'm a woman who likes things…hard."

    "And I'm glad for that." A low chuckle rumbled through the phone lines. "In fact, I'd like to explore that fondness of yours a bit more. Will you have dinner
    with me tonight?"

    "Drinks." Dinner had been nice, but she didn't want him thinking they were
    dating. This was all about satisfying animal urges.

    A slight pause then, "You have somewhere specific in mind?"

    Thinking quick she named a pub downtown, not far from where she lived.
    They decided on a time and she hung up with a grin, anticipation already
    making her sex warm.

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    * * *

    K arl ignored the glare Graham was shooting him and put the phone
    back in the cradle on his assistant's desk. "She's a big girl, Graham. She
    knows what she's getting into," he said before walking back to his office. At least she will after tonight.

    He couldn't believe he'd had to actually order Graham to call Lara while he
    was standing there! The man had refused to give him her number when he'd
    asked, or her email address. It would be touching if it weren't slightly
    insulting.

    On the other hand, knowing that Lara'd kept their encounters to herself
    pleased him. He liked his private life to be private, and any concerns he'd
    had about dating a friend of his employee were now gone.

    Dating.

    It had been a long time since he'd dated someone outside the lifestyle. Hell,
    it'd been a long time since he'd dated at all. He preferred to keep his life
    orderly, and that meant work was work, and play was private. Even his play
    life was kept orderly. Marie and Jan were his usual playmates, and they
    knew the score. When they were together, they had all of his attention, but
    when they weren't together, there were no claims on anyone.

    Everyone was happy with the casual relationship.

    He no longer looked for love in his relationships. He wasn't even sure he
    believed in love, anymore; not when he made a very good living off the fact
    that it never lasted. But spending time with Samair and Val had rekindled
    some spark inside him.

    Lara wasn't looking for love either. She was sexy, adventurous, bold, and
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    definitely wild. He'd walked away from her that first night because she wasn't
    what he was used to. But now he realized that, for him, that just might be the
    best thing she had going for her.

    * * *

    I can't believe you're going out with him again. I can't believe you
    haven't kept me up-to-date! I thought that dinner was a one time thing?"

    Lara looked past Graham, who was pacing alongside her bed, and met
    Peter's gaze. The minute Graham