When Staci Takes Charge (Leave Your Shoes On 2)

You are lost in some lust-induced haze.

Right.

“You were saying…?” he urged.

“Yes. I was saying that…” She tripped through her mind, trying to latch on to coherent thoughts. They all eluded her.

What the hell had she been saying?

Come on, Stace. Get a grip!

“That you need my help,” he offered.

“Yes.” Aha! That was correct. “Yes, I do.”

“Fine. I’ll give you five minutes. Then I’ve got to be in a meeting.”

Five minutes? That was nowhere near enough time, because she had to collect her wicked, errant thoughts before she could even begin to discuss her problem with this man.

And why the hell was he pretending he didn’t know her? Didn’t recognize her?

Sure, her hair was all different. Straight and sleek, not damp and curly. She had on makeup. Lipstick.

Clothes.

Did he really not know it was her? The woman whom he’d made come so damn hard at the Four Seasons she’d actually screamed in sheer ecstasy?

Shrugging him off—and he immediately released her—Staci took two steps backward, her mind reeling. She needed physical distance for mental clarity.

Not that she fully achieved it, because she suddenly blurted, “Have dinner with me tonight so that I can explain.”

“Dinner?” His dark brows shot up. But a hint of intrigue flashed in his eyes. Finally!

“It would be much easier if I didn’t have to rush through this. It’s a good cause. I swear.”

“Well, you have been extremely persistent.”

“I don’t know any man who’d make me chase him all over the continent. Or any man who I’d do it for, to be perfectly honest, but…” She shook her head. “I think it’s worth it.”

His jaw worked. As though he hedged at the invitation. But then he said, “I’m afraid I already have plans for the evening.”

“Can I persuade you to change them for Jean Marquis at eight o’clock?”

“It would be impossible to get reservations on such short notice. The restaurant only recently opened, and it’s booked seven weeks out.”

“Even for you? World-renowned podiatric surgeon?”

He smirked. “Even for me. Surgeons don’t rank as high as rock stars, actors, and politicians. Billionaires and hei

resses. You get the picture.”

“Meet me there, anyway.”

His gaze turned skeptical. Then curious. “Do you always get your way, Miss Kay?”

“We’ll find out tonight, won’t we?”

He stared at her for several long, intense moments. Staci’s fingers itched to remove his glasses to get the full impact of the cerulean irises she knew held the potential to smolder. For her.