His Private Pleasure

“Oh. Phone call. Sorry.”

“Ah.” She gestured behind her. “You have quite the view from up here.”

“You improve it greatly.”

She smiled at him. “Smooth, very smooth.”

He shrugged and the whole problem with Quin and the upcoming interview slid to the background. Maybe he should arrange to come home to a beautiful woman more often.

“I try.” Rather than move closer, which was what he wanted to do, and likely what she expected him to do, he leaned against the side door that led into the living area. The entire front wall of the house was sectioned glass. His bedroom was in the loft at the upper rear of the house and had a small balcony off the back. He wondered if she’d been up there yet and absently hoped he hadn’t left too many stray socks lying around. “Can I get you a beer or something? Or have you helped yourself?”

“Actually, I haven’t been inside.” She dangled the key. “I came up here and got cozy with the view instead.”

“You could have at least gotten yourself something to drink.” He’d assumed she’d make herself right at home. Maybe she enjoyed doing the unexpected, as well. Should make for an interesting evening.

She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t come directly up to the house.” She grinned. “Now don’t go frowning like that. I didn’t talk to anyone. At least not anyone immediately related to you.”

“In this town blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water.”