Okay." With the laptop set aside again, she reached for the briefcase at her feet and rummaged for the paper calendar she carried with her. It was smaller than a paperback book, and when she began fumbling through the pages to find the correct month, Griffin pulled it from her hand.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked, giving her a sharp look. His noninebriated self found the correct page right away.
It meant she had to cozy up closer to him so they could both see. As she moved, the throw slipped from her lap, but she let it fall, because she was warm enough now with her bare leg against the soft denim of Griffin's jeans and her shoulder pressed to his muscled one. This close, she could breathe in his scent, a citrus-and-sage smell.
Even without the cushion bounce she went woozy again. Was his a bar soap, she wondered, or was he a man who used body wash in his morning shower? In her mind's eye she could see him squeezing a liquidy gel into his big hand. Then he'd rotate his palms together, spreading the lubricious stuff around. Once coated, he'd smooth them along the sinewy length of his arms and legs she'd noted when he'd climbed the cliff at their first meeting. Next it would be another round of gel, another wet swirl of his palms, and finally he'd run them over his chiseled pectoral muscles and down the rippled abdominals she'd seen those times he'd been shirtless. After that, his hands would move lower, to that place she'd only felt...
"Jane?"
At the sound of his voice, she jumped, yanked from the impromptu fantasy. Her face went red-hot. Don't get involved with the client. It's bad for business. Don't get involved with the client. It's bad for you.
She slid a glance at him. He was staring at her with those X-ray eyes of his.
"What?" Her defensive tone made her wince. "I mean, uh, what?"
"It's your birthday," he said, glancing at the booklet. "I didn't know."
She waved a hand, cursing herself for having written that onto today's square. Silly of her, really. Silly and emotional. "Why would you? It's no big deal."
He frowned. "Did you do something special today?"
"Besides waiting around for you to make an appearance?" And drinking a whole lot of margaritas, which now felt like a very bad idea because the effect seemed to be steering her dangerously off course. "No."
Now it was his turn to wince. "If you'd said something - "
"Griffin. I'm a professional with a job to do - and that job is to help you meet your deadline. So whether or not it's my birthday or Private's birthday or even your birthday, now is the time for business."
"If it was my birthday I'd want a present."
"I'll keep that in mind. Now, about your due date - "
"Is that why you went to visit your father? Was it for an early birthday celebration?"
"My father doesn't celebrate birthdays." She might be a little bitter about that, which also went to explaining her thirst for the salty, limy beverage she'd imbibed. "He celebrates accomplishments. Accolades. Success."
And what did she have to show for being another year older, she thought, her mood going morose again. Thanks to Ian Stone, her career was a mess and her heart had been battered.
"So how did your visit with your dad go, anyway? You didn't say."
"I was a little late arriving," she remembered, her face heating. Because she'd stopped at a drugstore for a package of cotton underwear. Her car had been in the restaurant parking lot, and she'd decided against returning to No. 9 at that particular moment in case Griffin had followed. She might have jumped him.
"I'll bet he doesn't care for tardiness."
"Yes, well..." She shrugged. "Can we get back to - "
"That's why you should have forgone the underwear. You'd have been distracted and thinking more of yourself instead of worrying about meeting dear old dad's expectations."
Her face went hotter. "How did you know...?"
"That you stopped to replace your panties? Because you're so predictable, Jane."
His condescending tone was wearing on her. "And you aren't? Let me tell you, I was more surprised that you made it back tonight before I was asleep than I was that you didn't keep your word and return after lunch."
His face closed down. "You shouldn't count on me."
"Don't I know it." The only place he'd been reliably showing up had been in the naked-guy fantasies that were occurring way more often than