Hot Property (Hot Zone 4)

Once dinner and desert ended and they were settled back in his car, he lay an arm over the back of her seat. “So, my place or yours?” he asked, staring at her with those sexy, mesmerizing eyes.

She knew what she ought to say, just as she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to end their time together. She’d been alone for too many nights, and he made her feel too good to cut the evening short now.

“My place,” she answered before she could change her mind.

ROPER DIDN’T EXPECT anything to happen between himself and Amy. He didn’t. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear, yet he couldn’t help wanting her, desiring her, needing her.

He’d never clicked with a woman the way he connected with Amy. From the food they had in common to her understanding of his family and the on-the-road lifestyle he lived as a ballplayer, there had never been a lull in their conversation. Normally women’s eyes glazed over when he talked about his time on the field. Locker-room stories only interested them if he mentioned famous names. Not Amy. She tried to get a grip on who his friends were and who he merely tolerated. She talked about her time in Florida with a self-deprecating humor he appreciated.

He already knew he had a good friend in Amy, something he valued. She’d seamlessly stepped into his life and had taken over where Micki had left off. As much as he loved his longtime friend, she now had a husband, a daughter and a life that kept her busy. Roper understood the changes, but he was grateful to have Amy to fill the void. Grateful enough that he didn’t want to screw things up and lose her before their friendship had time to take hold. Yet by the time she let them into her apartment, his desire was becoming hard to control.

He’d talked her into dinner by respecting the fine line she drew between work and pleasure. As much as he desired to kiss her, hold her, feel her body around his, he’d have to let things progress without pushing too hard too fast. Somehow.

“Coffee?” Her soft voice broke into his thoughts.

He nodded. “That would be great.”

“Make yourself at home while I go make us some.” She gestured to the small couch with a sweep of her hand. “I should warn you, though, it won’t be freshly ground,” she said as she disappeared into her kitchen.

“I’ll manage,” he said, laughing.

She peeked out from behind the dividing wall. “Good, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to invite you back.”

He was just glad she wanted him here.

She disappeared back into the small kitchen area.

While waiting for her to finish making their coffee, he glanced around, seeing the personal touches and changes Amy had put on the apartment. Over the plain white wooden slatted blinds, Amy had put up new ruffled curtains that gave the place a womanly feel. She’d added plants on the windowsills and photographs of palm trees, of pink and yellow homes and southern landscapes on the walls. So feminine. So Amy.

“Coffee is served,” she said, returning with two white mugs. “I remembered you ordered yours with a little milk, no sugar at the restaurant, so that’s the way I made it. But if you want to add anything, just let me know.” She placed both mugs on coasters on a glass table in front of the couch.

“Thanks. I’m sure its perfect.”

He sat beside her on the sofa, keenly aware of her sweet scent. “I love the changes you made to the apartment,” he said, reminding himself to take things slow. “Especially the curtains.”

She smiled in appreciation. “They’re homemade.”

“That makes it even nicer.” He took a sip of the too-strong, practically burnt coffee and somehow managed not to wince.

“Well?” She rocked back and forth in her seat, eager for his approval.

“Delicious.” He even managed to keep a straight face. Insulting her coffee wouldn’t exactly endear him to her. “So how do you like living in New York?” he asked.

“It’s different. The pace is faster, the expectations higher, but somehow I’m loving it.” Her eyes glittered with an excitement he found arousing.

She’d kicked off her black pumps. Her simple black dress was casual and not intentionally seductive. She wore just enough makeup to accent her pretty features, but not enough to disguise her freckles or tan.

At a glance she was so Floridian—laid-back and at ease—but inside, he knew she had definite strength of character. He admired the adventurous spirit it took to pick up her life and move to a new city. This strong woman drew him to her and he found it difficult not to put his coffee cup down and pull her into his arms, showing her just how much he desired her.

“I’m glad you’re happy here. It’s better than being homesick.” He leaned back and lay one arm over the couch cushion, feigning relaxing though his body was strung tight.

She nodded. “True. I miss my family and the warm weather, but this change was way overdue.”

“So how did you end up working at the retirement community in the first place?” he asked, taking advantage of the opening to learn more about her.

She placed her coffee mug on the table and he followed her lead.

“Let’s see. I didn’t start that way. I graduated college with a degree in social work. I took a job working for the state. It was heartbreaking and difficult, but I was making a difference in the world.”