What he wanted from her was a working weekend where she played decoy to his mother’s matchmaking.
Still, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to see his reaction when she opened her apartment door. Quite simply she didn’t look like the same woman he’d walked to the salon. And had it been her imagination or had he touched her hand a half dozen times spreading wildfires up her arm?
She bent and picked up Yoda. “Hey, boy, are you going to miss me? Hmm, are you?” She rubbed her nose to the dog’s, laughing when he licked her. “Now quit that before you mess up my make-up.” At the dog’s head quirk, she laughed again. “I know, I know, I’ve never cared before, but tonight’s special and I suspect this make-up isn’t doggy-kisses proof.”
Yoda licked her again, obviously not caring if her make-up was doggy-kiss proof or not. Scratching the miniature poodle behind his ears, she praised him, telling him how much she was going to miss him over and over, and reminding him how much he loved visiting Mrs. Beasley.
“Come on. I guess I should go drop you there before His Highness arrives.” Cradling the dog in one arm, she gathered the diaper bag of dog goodies she’d packed him. “Let’s get you next door.”
Saying goodbye was difficult, but once inside Mrs. Beasley’s, Yoda didn’t seem to mind at all that Faith would be gone all weekend.
“No worries. He’s Miss Cupcake’s favorite guest,” the older woman promised as they walked to the door. “She and I will take good care of Yoda, and you know I can use the extra money from dog-sitting.”
Standing in the doorway, Faith leaned in and kissed Mrs. Beasley’s weathered cheek. “I know. Bye, love you.”
Closing the door, she turned to go back to her apartment and caught Vale in the hallway admiring her backside.
Vale blinked, attempting to clear his eyes.
That stunning derrière and killer legs he’d been admiring were Faith’s?
He’d known she had a decent body, he wasn’t blind, but her scrubs did nothing to accent her curves and apparently everything to hide them. Where had all that tantalizing flesh come from?
And her eyes.
He’d always liked Faith’s eyes. But without her glasses they were huge, luminous, tempting.
No, he wasn’t tempted by Faith.
Only he was.
Tempted to push her up against the apartment hallway wall, push up that nipped-at-the-waist tease of a skirt, and thrust between those long, long legs.
Where had she gotten those legs and why hadn’t he noticed before?
Okay, so he had noticed a time or two when she’d had on one of those ugly gray suits she sometimes wore that she had great calves. The kind that plumped out when she reached for a book on a high shelf. But Lord help him at the expanse of thigh on display beneath the hem of the dress she wore now.
And her shoulders.
His fingers itched to rub over her bare skin. He’d never seen her shoulders bare before. There should be laws against covering shoulders like hers. He liked what he saw beneath the stringy dress straps. He liked it a lot. Her hair was up but, unlike her work style, long, highlighted tendrils hung low, daring him to set free the caught-up strands. The style revealed the tantalizing curve of her exposed neck. He wanted to kiss her there, taste her, work his way down, sensitize every neuron in her body.
Oh, hell. He was in trouble. He couldn’t bring her to his parents’ house like this, with him on the verge of busting through his pants just from looking at her, with him practically licking his lips in anticipation of her feminine delights.
“My money bought that?”
Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. Uncertainty marred her expression. She glanced down at the blue dress she wore, exposing those long legs that had his brain working overtime—or, more like, not working at all.
“You don’t like my dress?”
“What’s not to like? You’re gorgeous
, Faith.” The insecurity in her eyes had him scampering to put the glow back on her face. “Absolutely stunning.”
Her gaze lifted to his and a smile played at her lips. “Really?”
He laughed at her obvious fishing for a compliment.
“Best return I’ve ever gotten off a few hundred bucks.” Immediately, he could see he’d said the wrong thing. Again. And again the overwhelming need to repair the damage filled him. “Why do you hide yourself away when you were obviously meant to be admired by the world?”