Midnight At Tiffany's (From Manhattan with Love 0.50)

whether the rest of his body lived up to the promise of that small glimpse. She’d use this man for her own sexual gratification until he could no longer—

“Were you at the party?” His voice, velvet deep, shook her out of her erotic daydream.

“What?” So his voice was as sexy as his body. Her head was spinning with desire. “Me?”

“Yes, you. I saw you running for the lift. It’s obvious you’ve just changed out of one outfit and into another.”

“Why is it obvious?”

“Because half your hair is inside your dress and it’s tucked up at the back.”

“Oh.” She freed her hair and straightened her dress. Her face was as hot as the inside of a pizza oven. Still, at least she didn’t have toilet paper stuck to her shoe. As someone to whom that had happened on a million occasions, she’d learned to be grateful for small mercies.

“You were part of the champagne accident?”

Oh, crap. “I was—er—caught in the cross fire.” Matilda tensed and waited for him to say something caustic but he frowned slightly.

“Why do people always crowd around when a person is in trouble? It’s something I’ve never understood.”

The last thing she’d expected was for him to be sympathetic. “It’s human nature. Like watching a hanging in medieval times.”

“It’s one of the very worst parts of human nature.” He pushed his bow tie into his pocket. “So, who are you avoiding?”

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you hurrying toward the elevator. You were glancing over your shoulder as if you were escaping. You look like a woman with something to hide.”

It sounded so much more glamorous than the reality. “Well—”

“Don’t waste time denying it. I’m doing the same thing. Escaping. The champagne gave us both the distraction we needed. I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me. It will be our secret.” He smiled, and Matilda was so dazzled by that unexpected smile that for a moment she just stared. If Cynthia had been there, she definitely would have told her off for gaping like a goldfish.

Then she smiled, too. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She would have liked to discover a few more of his secrets. Especially the physical ones. She would have liked to examine every inch of his muscular body close-up.

Lara would have stopped the elevator and had sex with him right there and then, but she wasn’t Lara. Unfortunately.

“How well do you know this building?” He glanced at his watch. “I need to find a discreet exit.”

“What’s wrong with the front entrance?”

“I’m hiding, too, remember?” The smile reached his eyes. “I don’t want people to see me leave.”

She wondered whom he was avoiding. Women, no doubt. Probably hoards of them. He was sexy enough to be fighting them off, and if he’d been a guest at the party, then no doubt he was also wealthy, or at least heading that way.

Matilda, who had a whole bunch of people she never wanted to meet again, Cynthia included, sympathized. “There is another exit. Down to the basement, left out of the elevators, walk behind the—”

“Show me.”

“Er—me?”

“You’re the one who knows where it is. Makes sense, don’t you think?”

“I guess so.” Being caught creeping out of the emergency exit with one of the guests would be the final straw, but she’d already been fired, so what else could they do?

The doors opened and they both stepped forward at the same time.

The faint smell of aftershave mingled with the scent of soap and sexy man. Drugged by that delicious combination Matilda paused, absorbing the moment with all her senses so she could write about it later. She wanted to press her face against his chest and breathe him in.