She nodded, temporarily speechless. He quirked a brow in a silent query.
“Big. Reserved.” She hesitated. “Simmering.”
“Simmering?” he said, his gaze moving slowly over her face and fastening on her lips.
“Yeah. Like something is frothing just beneath the surface, and you might . . . blow at any second,” she whispered.
The silence stretched.
“Take off the pants,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“You heard me. They’re part of the costume. I want to keep it all together, or there’s a chance things will get misplaced tomorrow when the delivery service comes to get them. I’ll look around after I pack this and see if I can’t find a robe for you.”
He turned away and started to gather the armor parts. Gia was a little floored. He was interested in her, wasn’t he? He was extremely hard to read at times. But then she recalled that squeeze of her braid, the obvious male heat in his eyes when he studied her just now, not to mention that tingling stroke on her heel.
No. She wasn’t misreading him.
Her pulse began to leap in her throat as she fumbled with the fastenings on the loose pants. She drew them off and folded them. Turning around slowly, she saw Seth methodically packing the armor into a duffel bag, his back to her. She approached him.
“Here you go,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He barely turned from his task as he accepted the pants. Feeling very exposed in a pair of low-rise, boy-cut black briefs and a tank top, not to mention confused by Seth’s intense focus elsewhere, she wandered back to the seating area. Should she take this opportunity to go? she wondered anxiously as she tugged at the shorts. Liza had told her to wear something brief that hugged the body. The black shorts were extremely tight. She looked down at herself anxiously. Why hadn’t she noticed the way they outlined her sex before? Maybe she should sit down on the couch and put a pillow over her hips until Seth returned with the robe? She jerked on the fabric again, only to have the waistband creep down beneath the bottom of her tank top and expose the skin of her lower belly.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. That fact hadn’t bothered her at all when Liza had been costuming her earlier, even when a few of her coworkers came into the room in search of adhesive or a prosthetic or a certain hair color for a beard and mustache.
Seth was a professional as well, she reassured herself, as she once again looked at the back of him.
And no. She didn’t want to leave.
She loved the way he looked, the way he moved. He wore a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, a supple black leather vest, a thick platinum watch that struck her as very masculine on his strong forearms, and a pair of sturdy leather work boots. She was struck by how he moved with such graceful economy, despite his largeness.
She was also struck by how good his butt looked in his jeans.
He turned around, and she again was staring into his unyielding face. She forced her fussing hands to her sides. His gaze dropped slowly over her, and Gia felt a pleasant pressure in her body dipping in tandem with it. His stare lowered over her belly and hips and lingered between her thighs. Something hot leapt into his eyes.
So much for her concern that he’d changed his mind about finding her attractive.
His gaze wandered back up her body, scoring her. Her breasts suddenly felt very heavy and . . . obvious.
He took three steps toward her, and Gia swore her heart jumped directly into her throat.
“What about the rest?” he asked gently, one dark brow slanting.
“These”—she waved stupidly at her shorts and shirt—“are mine. They aren’t part of the costume.”
“I know,” he said, coming closer still. “Do you want to take them off too?”
The ensuing silence throbbed in her ears. Her heart chugged like a restrained locomotive. This is really going to happen. Her clit prickled in anticipation.
“Yes,” she replied honestly through numb lips.
He just nodded, holding her stare. Was he a magician, the way he hypnotized her?
“Take off the top first.”