She smiled.
She didn’t mean to. It just happened.
Steve.
He was playing. He’d flown here for her—it must have been for her—and now he was pretending to be some guy she didn’t know. A Steve.
It was cute.
She’d never been able to resist Tony being cute.
“Jennifer.”
She shook his hand. No wedding ring.
“Nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
“That remains to be seen, Steve.”
That made him smile, and a prickling awareness slid over the exposed skin of her back. For the first moment since her eyes had landed on Tony she saw him as a stranger might. Flight-weary, tired around the eyes, but intense, even as he leaned casually against the bar and crossed one leg in front of the other.
Her eyes slid down him. His jeans lovingly cupped his crotch, and when she looked back up he gave her a wink, and her face heated.
He was sexy.
A sexy stranger.
Cute.
“Remains to be seen, huh?” he asked.
Amber twirled her glass, watching the fog circle inside it. “Remains to be seen,” she repeated. Because so much did.
“I figure I’ve got about ten minutes.”
“Before what?”
“Ten minutes to drink this while you drink that.” He nodded toward her hand. “And then we’ll either grab a table and get to know each other better, or you’ll send me packing like you did that other guy.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Want me to cut to the chase?”
She studied his face.
Handsome guy, Steve.
“No,” she said. “No, I think ten minutes leaves you plenty of time to beat around the bush first.”
Tony sipped his drink. Grimaced. “Notice how I just declined to make a bush joke.”
“I did notice, but then you ruined it by mentioning it.”
“See, the thing is, it’s not really my forte.”
“What isn’t?”
“Being indirect.”