looked...hungry. Just as she’d seen him look at her once or twice in the past. More than that, he seemed dangerous. Not nice Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs, but wickedly sexy Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs and imagining them wrapped around his waist.
She could do that. She could definitely do that. Whether it was what Izzie would do or not.
It is.
“Here you go,” she said, handing him the cell phone.
He took it from her, their fingers brushing lightly. Standing, he stuffed the phone in his pocket. His lean face looked weary, as if he hadn’t slept well.
“So, was it worth your early trip in?” she asked, knowing she sounded coy. She couldn’t help channeling Izzie a little bit. “Everything...satisfactory?”
His pale blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you get whatever deal you’re working on taken care of this morning?”
He nodded slowly. “The deal. Yeah. It’s all good.”
“Good. You might set another sales record this month.”
With a casual manner she had never suspected she could pull off, she tossed her purse onto her desk, which was laden with files, legal paperwork and financial stuff. Holding on to her courage, she slipped her sweater off her shoulders. She had to move close to Dean—very close—to reach the coatrack on the wall. Her arm brushed against his as she lifted the sweater onto one of the hooks.
“Bridget...”
Smiling, she turned and glanced up at him. “Yes?”
He wasn’t looking at her face, his attention was focused lower. On the scooped neck of her tight spandex tank top. The heat in his stare warmed her all over and she felt her body reacting to it. A lazy river of want flowed through her veins. She clenched her thighs in response to it. But there was no way to disguise the way her breasts grew heavier, her nipples hardening to twin points that poked against her shirt.
He noticed. Most definitely.
Swallowing hard, he growled, “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trolling for men at a club rather than working with a bunch of used-car salesmen and wrench jockeys at an auto shop?” he asked, his tone harsh.
Bridget instinctively stepped back. A little hurt. A little confused. “I just...” Channel Izzie. WWID? Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back and jutted her chin out. “What business is it of yours what I wear to work?”
He reached for her, grabbing her arm as if he couldn’t help himself. “Put your sweater back on.”
“Make me.”
His whole body tense with frustration, he lifted his other hand and grabbed her other arm. Bridget wasn’t sure what he was going to do—shake her or haul her into his arms and kiss her.
She was most definitely hoping for option two.
She should have been intimidated, maybe even scared given his size. But she already knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. He was attracted to her, she was sure of it now, and he just didn’t know what to do about that attraction since they were coworkers.
“Either take your hands off me or do something with them,” she snapped, still thinking the way her cousin would.
“Damn it, Bridget.”
But before he could do either one, they heard the sound of voices coming from right outside the door. They weren’t, it appeared, the only two who’d arrived to work early.
Dean instantly released her and stepped away. He shook his head, as if to clear it, and eyed her warily. Finally he said, “I really think you should put your sweater on.”
Bridget hid a smile, liking the tiny thrill of power she felt at having this big handsome man react so strongly to her. Crossing her arms in front of her chest—which pressed her breasts even higher and harder against her top—she shook her head. “I don’t think so, Dean. If you don’t like the way I’m dressed...I suggest you don’t look at me.”
Knowing her bravado wasn’t going to last for much longer, she sashayed past him, out onto the showroom floor to greet the other salesmen who’d arrived. Leaving Dean watching her with eyes that blazed like the sun.
* * *
IZZIE HAD SPENT the night in Nick’s arms, but she’d slipped away early—around dawn. Knowing the bakery would open soon, he didn’t protest.
He wanted to, of course, but he kept his mouth shut.
Izzie’s whole reason for being here in Chicago was her devotion to her family’s business. He wouldn’t even think of interfering with that. Because he liked her working at the bakery. Right here