Hot Property (Hot Zone 4)

He hadn’t lost sight of the fact that he’d made an ass of himself the last time they were together and he owed her an apology for what had transpired. Now, with everyone gone, he and Amy were alone in their own corner of the party and she met his gaze head-on, not blinking or backing down.

He admired the fact that he couldn’t rattle her and refused to rush his perusal. She had tanned skin only someone from a southern state could manage, a fresh, unjaded look in her eyes, and curly hair that didn’t appear overly set with sprays or products. He could definitely get into tangling his hands in the soft brown curls.

But most of all he wanted to be with a woman who in all likelihood didn’t keep up with New York sports news and Roper’s humiliations. One who wouldn’t pity him, judge him or want something from him in any way. Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. Chances were good she hadn’t forgiven him for the scene at the wedding, and he couldn’t blame her.

“So how have you been?” he asked once they were alone, or as alone as they could be in a room full of people.

“Just fine, and you?” She folded her arms across her chest, causing her cleavage to swell above the glittery gold tank she wore beneath a white silk blouse.

He knew Amy’s movement was unintentional, and he had to admit her lack of pretense was one of the things he found most appealing about her. “I’ve been better,” he admitted, opting for honesty.

But he didn’t want to get into his recent problems. He cleared his throat and asked, “Been in town long?” Not his best line, but he wanted to change the subject.

She shook her head. “Not very.”

She wasn’t making this easy. For the first time, he was uptight around a woman and unsure of how to reach her. “So, um, when do you leave?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Anxious to get rid of me already?”

He shook his head, exhaling hard. “I’m blowing this big-time. Let’s backtrack, okay? It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here.” She immediately pursed her lips.

He’d bet she wished she could take that comment back, but he liked her refreshing honesty.

She turned, obviously scanning the crowd.

He followed her gaze but couldn’t pinpoint anyone or anything that would have distracted her. “Looking for someone?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said as she pivoted back to face him. “I was trying to locate your date.”

A grin tugged at his mouth. “What makes you think I brought one?” he asked.

“Experience.”

“Touché.”

She shrugged. “I can’t imagine you spending New Year’s Eve alone.” She reached her hand out, tapping a finger against his pink Ralph Lauren dress shirt.

She was bolder than he thought she’d be, but the slight trembling of her fingers told him the movement was forced. He’d bet she didn’t want him to think he could get to her again.

Well, hell. She got to him. “You wound me,” Roper said.

“You’ll live.”

He laughed hard, something he hadn’t done in way too long. “I suppose I deserved that.”

She grinned. “You supposed right.” Her hand lingered. Her pink fingernails were short and blended with the color of his shirt.

His flesh burned hot underneath the material. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her delicate fingertips lingering so close to the buttons that would let his skin touch hers.

She followed his stare, glanced down, realized she hadn’t removed her hand and snatched it away, leaving him to wonder if she’d felt the same searing heat.

She cleared her throat. “Well, your shirt’s clean so I assume you’ve been a good boy. You haven’t ticked off your date, at least not yet. So where is she? Ladies’ room? Buffet table?”

They were bantering easily and he was glad. But he’d like for her to get to know him better so he could erase the bad first impression he’d made. “If I admit that was tacky and I apologize, can we start over?” he asked.

“That depends.” She narrowed her gaze, assessing him in silence, but assessing him nonetheless.