Joanne let out a slow sigh as she watched him make himself comfortable. He had removed his coat and draped it neatly over the arm of the couch, then leaned back, spreading his arms lazily along the cushions like he belonged there.
And of course, he looked unfairly good doing it.
That off-white sweater hugged him just right, and the tailored pants did nothing to dim the quiet power in his posture. Regal. Effortlessly majestic. Noble in the way only the dangerously untouchable could be.
Butterflies stirred in her lower abdomen.
She tugged at the sash of her robe, knotting it tighter, and then took the armchair opposite him. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, but the soft robe parted at the center, exposing just enough thigh to be called accidental, yet intentional.
Judging by the way his gaze dropped, then swept slowly up the length of her legs, it was working.
Oh, this would be interesting.
"So," she said, coolly, "what is it you wanted to talk about?"
