at Zaf was like walking out of an air-conditioned room into a wall of midsummer heat: lust slammed into her, surrounded her, and she proceeded to gently suffocate.
“About an hour ago,” he said, “I realized I don’t have a clue what you wear to a radio interview.”
Her heart melted, drip-drip-drip, like an ice pop on a scorching summer’s day. Oh dear. “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” she told him, because if she said, You look so delicious I’m seriously fighting the urge to sink my teeth into your scandalously plump pectoral, he might be alarmed. “Come in! I’m afraid I’m not quite ready—”
“Really?” He followed her into the living room, looking around in open curiosity. “I thought the reindeer shorts were a statement.”
“Hilarious,” she said. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“It’s okay. I’m twenty minutes early.”
Her eyebrows flew up as his words sank in. Dani finally looked at the clock hanging on her kitchen wall and realized he was right. “Oh. You . . . erm . . . so . . . ?”
“I had a feeling,” he said wryly, “that you might need a nudge.”
Dani supposed she should be outraged by the presumption, or at least mildly annoyed, but frankly, she was just pleased to have one less irrelevant thing to think about. And yes, she was aware most people considered time to be the opposite of irrelevant. But pretending to agree with them had always been exhausting.
Still, she couldn’t let Zaf know he’d done something helpful, or he might start thinking they had some sort of doing helpful things for each other arrangement, and that was a dangerous dynamic to get into. People tended to take it personally when the other party defaulted. So she scowled and said, “What, are you trying to manage me now?”
His smile was slight, lopsided, and . . . fond. That was the word. Fond. “I know you have a lot on your mind, and you don’t do well with time when you’re busy, so I thought coming early might help. That’s all.”
He made it sound as if she struggled to remember his existence—which she certainly did not, thank you very much. But perhaps she behaved that way, sometimes? Dani found that idea infinitely bothersome. Zaf took up a lot of space and spread a lot of warmth and did a lot of good, and someone like that should not be treated as an afterthought. It was the principle of the matter. It was bad for the balance of the universe. So maybe, next time she was supposed to meet him, she’d set an alarm to make sure she wasn’t distracted or forgetful.
“I understand, but you don’t need to worry. I won’t be late again,” she said decisively. And then she had to turn away, because something about his expression changed. His eyes seemed even darker and more dizzyingly lovely than usual, and she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. “I’ll just . . . get ready, then,” she blurted, heading toward the bedroom. “There are glasses in the cupboard over the sink, if you want some water. Or mugs, if you want tea, do help yourself to tea.” When he didn’t answer, she glanced back to make sure he hadn’t fallen through an interdimensional gap or been kidnapped—giant-napped—by a team of skilled and silent individuals.
No, he was simply staring, his mouth hanging slightly open, at her arse. Ah. Yes. She’d forgotten about the cut of these sleep shorts, and also about the tattoo on her bottom. Cheeks burning—which was ridiculous, since she planned to show him far more skin after they dealt with this interview—Dani slapped a hand over her backside. Zaf responded by bursting into laughter, possibly because her hand wasn’t big enough to cover even a fraction of that particular body part.
“Well, I never,” she muttered, and hurried off.
“Sorry,” he called after her, not sounding remotely apologetic.
“Pervert!” She hoped he was, anyway.
“No, no,” he said, utterly deadpan. “I just really like tattoos.”
Danika Brown was fucking impossible.
Zaf stood by the living room window, watching her walk away in the dark mirror created by its glass. She was all strong calves and heavy, dimpled thighs, half her arse exposed by those fucking shorts, her palm covering a tattoo that read bite me. She disappeared through a door he assumed led to her bedroom, slamming it shut. Zaf released a long sigh of relief and leaned forward until his brow touched the cold glass. He needed to calm