All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

I pull in behind her silver Ford, lock the car, and ring the doorbell.

Sienna opens the door, and I feel like my tongue is suddenly permanently stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Holy God almighty.

She’s not in her suit and sensible heels today.

Not even close.

Her hair, usually back in a sleek French twist, is pulled up in a messy bun with tendrils falling around her face and neck. She’s in a black tank top and cutoff shorts.

Her long legs are bare, as are her feet.

But the kicker? There’s not a speck of makeup on her and she’s wearing black-rimmed glasses, and I’m instantly turned on.

I swallow hard as she backs away from the door, already talking, but I haven’t heard a word she’s said because holy shit.

I knew I was attracted to her. I mean, look at her. She’s beautiful, and she’s smart. Her uptight suits amuse me, and she may be the only woman on the planet who can pull them off.

But now? Now she’s dressed like that and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her. I have two choices. I can leave now, no harm no foul, and we both conduct our own investigations.

Or I can stay with the understanding that this isn’t going to remain strictly professional for long. At least, not for me.

If she says no, well, she says no.

But damn, I hope she doesn’t say no.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

She frowns. “Aren’t you coming inside?”

Jesus, I’m still standing in the doorway, watching her like a stupid teenager who’s just got his first hard-on.

“Right.” I step inside and shut the door, then turn back to find her eyes roaming up my body. I can’t help but grin.

She clears her throat. “I’m, um, not used to seeing you in civilian clothes.”

“Back at you,” I mutter, walking to the other side of the table, and taking in the scene before me. “I brought lunch. How’s it going?”

“First of all, how did you know these are my favorite sandwiches?”

“Psychic,” I reply with a satisfied grin. She just rolls her eyes. She’s not impressed by my usual charms, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t as sexy as the glasses perched on her adorable little nose.

“Second,” she continues, “why did my great-grandfather save three years’ worth of newspapers? And for the love of God, why did everyone else hang on to them after him? I had to open every single one, just to make sure that nothing important was tucked inside.”

“Maybe he was saving them for a project. Or to build fires? Put on the floor when he was painting?”

She props her hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side. A strand of hair falls over her face, and she blows it out of the way.

I sit before she can see the bulge in my cargo shorts.

“Were you at the office this morning?” she asks as I open a box to get started sifting through papers.

“For a while, and then I had a movie date.”

She stills, and I glance up to see her cheeks flush. She stiffens and raises her chin.

God, she’s beautiful.

“You didn’t have to cut a date short to come here, Quinn. I’m perfectly capable of—”

“With my niece.”

Her shoulders sag, but she keeps that poker face in place. I can’t help but reach over to brush my fingers over her wrist.

“I wanted to come here today. I’m sorry I couldn’t come last night. I was clearing my schedule for this afternoon and tomorrow.”

“Oh? Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the racetrack,” I reply and watch as her eyes widen. She bites her lip, then reaches into her box for more paper.

“That’ll be fun.”

“You should go with me.”

She frowns and looks up at me. “Why in the world would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun.”

She laughs. “Driving fast in a circle isn’t fun. Besides I get carsick.”

“Bullshit.”

She sets her paper down and tilts her head, blowing that strand of hair out of her face again.

“No, I really do get carsick. I’m not a good passenger.”

“You’ll drive your own car.”

“I have to work, Quinn.”

“It’ll only be half of the day. We’ll be out of there by noon, and back here combing through receipts from 1944 by two.”

Her lips twitch, and I know she wants to say yes. I reach over and tuck that piece of silky hair behind her ear.

“Say yes.”

“I shouldn’t.”

I grin, knowing that I’ve won this fight.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go with you. But we have to come back here to work after. That’s the deal.”

“I can live with that.”

She narrows her eyes on me and then goes back to looking at the papers. Suddenly, she drops everything and stands, staring at the sheet in her hand.

“Quinn, I’ve found something.”

“Excellent.”

I hurry around the table to read over her shoulder, and immediately call myself a fool. She smells too fucking good to be this close to her.