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“Are you going to let me in?” she asked.
He stood back and let her walk in, his gaze riveted to her backside. Damn, she really was trying to kill him. “I see you survived your dip in the pool.”
“Yes, but I almost couldn’t get out of those jeans. It’s really difficult to peel wet jeans off your body.”
Yeah, killing him dead.
“What’s going on, Dana? Why are you here?”
“We need to talk. About work.”
He leaned against the staircase railing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Darlin’ that dress is not made for talking, or business either.”
“This old thing?” she asked innocently. “It’s just something I threw on. I’m going out after we get through here.”
He felt a flash of pure jealousy when he realized what she meant. “Where? With who?” he demanded. Hell, she could start a riot dressed like that. Not that her dress wasn’t perfectly acceptable. But, sweet Jesus, it made a man’s hands—his hands, anyway—itch to get her out of it.
“Why do you want to know?”
She’d done something to her eyes to make them look slumberous and sexy and her lips were painted red. Which, for some reason, didn’t clash with her hair. All that glorious dark red hair was free and falling around her face, to her shoulders. Soft, shiny, silky. He wanted to plunge his hands into it and mess it up while kissing her senseless. “You have a date,” he said grimly. “It’s Nathan, isn’t it? You’re going out with him again. For real this time.”
“And if I am?”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, when what he wanted was to carry her off to his bedroom and make love to her until neither of them could move. As if it didn’t matter that just that afternoon she’d kissed him mindless.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t happen to have a date. I was going out by myself.”
“In that dress? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
“Nothing, if you don’t mind every man you see wanting to rip it off of you.”
She dimpled. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“No, just an observation.” She looked annoyed, he was pleased to see.
“Are you going to keep me standing in the foyer? I have something to show you.”
Levi realized she had some papers rolled up in her hand. He’d been far too conscious of the rest of her to look at her hand. “Come on,” he said, heading to his den. “Minerva, lights on full,” he said as they entered. The lights flicked on.
“Minerva?” Dana asked.
“What can I do for you?” Minerva asked.
“Go to sleep, Minerva.”
“Yes, Levi,” she answered in a sultry voice.
“She needed a name. It seemed appropriate.” It came from a Robert A. Heinlein book he’d read a long time ago.
“How long did it take you to get her to sound like that?”
He grinned. “A while.”
“Where can I spread these out?”
“There.” He motioned to a large table he used for everything from eating to an extra poker table if he needed it.
