arms.
“Sure. Why not? What do you want to know?” He looked at her from behind those pewter rims that framed long brown lashes and clear green eyes.
She would not be sucked in by his studly GQ perfection. She would not. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Hmm. What was wrong with this picture? And why hadn’t she studied her list instead of leaving it on her desk to go over in bed once she’d put the loft back in order? “I can ask you anything on my list and you’ll answer?”
Elbows on the chair arms, he propped his fingertipstogether under his chin, shrugged again with just one shoulder. “Unless it’s something I don’t want you to know.”
“Aha!” She bounded to the edge of the sofa, pointing a finger. Four of the bras at her shoulder slithered down into her lap. “I knew there was a catch.”
A brow went up. “There’s always a catch, Macy. But go ahead. Try me.”
There was always a catch, wasn’t there? Macy thought, folding her renegade laundry. And the catch in finding out what she wanted to know was that Leo would be asking the same in return.
But she’d be damned if she wouldn’t ferret out at least the one item she remembered seeing on her list. “Okay. Tell me this. Where is the most bizarre place you’ve ever had sex?”
Leo blinked slowly, thoughtfully, looked at Macy over his index-finger steeple. Then he removed his hands from his face. “Geographically bizarre? Like Bangkok?”
“Bangkok? Hmm. No, actually I mean strategically bizarre. On the back of a horse, in an airplane bathroom. That sort of thing.” She stacked the lingerie on the arm of the sofa and turned an expectant look on him.
Leo turned an expectant look on her stack of lingerie. “In a box seat. At the theater. Wearing a tux.”
The theater? A tux? And his date in formal wear, too? How could they—Unless—Macy had about ten-thousand logistical questions, but then Leo said, “My turn.”
With a sudden flutter of nerves, she pushed an unruly mass of hair from the right side of her face, repeated the gesture on the left. “Ask away.”
“Exhibitionist tendencies. It’s a question on my list.”
Macy looked his way slowly, sensing a strange, compelling touch, as if his finger had tipped up her chin and turned her head toward him. “And you were wondering what, exactly?”
His jaw tensed. The tic of a pulse throbbed at his temple. He glanced again at the arm of the sofa and at her lingerie.
“Oh, that.” She laughed lightly, ignoring the twisting, tightening tickle spinning like a roulette wheel beneath her rib cage. “I usually don’t make a habit of exposing my underthings, no.”
“But would you?”
“Strut my stuff?” Did she have it in her to be so bold? Her lips curved upward. And here she’d thought Leo so conventional and conservative. “I might.”
“Now?”
“Now?” She glanced toward the bras. “You want me to…”
He gestured with his chin. “The one on top. Put it on.”
The novelty print? She had black lace, silver lamé, zebra stripes, silk and satin. And he wanted Tinkerbell and Peter Pan?
One corner of his mouth almost lifted. “Just put it on.”
She was absolutely out there to be considering this. Such a strange turn for her scavenger hunt to take. But wasn’t this what she’d wanted? To see where her games might go? Besides, putting it on didn’t mean she had to take anything off.
Keeping that tidbit to herself, she stood, hung the bra around her waist and fastened the single rear hook. The cups and straps dangled over her belly. She slipped her arms out of her sleeves and down inside her T-shirt,working the straps up over her shoulders beneath the narrow pink top.
She exposed a whole lot of belly in the process, but managed to get the bra into place without too many awkward movements. All that was left now was to wiggle one arm, then the other, back through the T-shirt’s armholes and, ta-da!
He didn’t move a muscle. Not so much as an
“Sure. Why not? What do you want to know?” He looked at her from behind those pewter rims that framed long brown lashes and clear green eyes.
She would not be sucked in by his studly GQ perfection. She would not. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Hmm. What was wrong with this picture? And why hadn’t she studied her list instead of leaving it on her desk to go over in bed once she’d put the loft back in order? “I can ask you anything on my list and you’ll answer?”
Elbows on the chair arms, he propped his fingertipstogether under his chin, shrugged again with just one shoulder. “Unless it’s something I don’t want you to know.”
“Aha!” She bounded to the edge of the sofa, pointing a finger. Four of the bras at her shoulder slithered down into her lap. “I knew there was a catch.”
A brow went up. “There’s always a catch, Macy. But go ahead. Try me.”
There was always a catch, wasn’t there? Macy thought, folding her renegade laundry. And the catch in finding out what she wanted to know was that Leo would be asking the same in return.
But she’d be damned if she wouldn’t ferret out at least the one item she remembered seeing on her list. “Okay. Tell me this. Where is the most bizarre place you’ve ever had sex?”
Leo blinked slowly, thoughtfully, looked at Macy over his index-finger steeple. Then he removed his hands from his face. “Geographically bizarre? Like Bangkok?”
“Bangkok? Hmm. No, actually I mean strategically bizarre. On the back of a horse, in an airplane bathroom. That sort of thing.” She stacked the lingerie on the arm of the sofa and turned an expectant look on him.
Leo turned an expectant look on her stack of lingerie. “In a box seat. At the theater. Wearing a tux.”
The theater? A tux? And his date in formal wear, too? How could they—Unless—Macy had about ten-thousand logistical questions, but then Leo said, “My turn.”
With a sudden flutter of nerves, she pushed an unruly mass of hair from the right side of her face, repeated the gesture on the left. “Ask away.”
“Exhibitionist tendencies. It’s a question on my list.”
Macy looked his way slowly, sensing a strange, compelling touch, as if his finger had tipped up her chin and turned her head toward him. “And you were wondering what, exactly?”
His jaw tensed. The tic of a pulse throbbed at his temple. He glanced again at the arm of the sofa and at her lingerie.
“Oh, that.” She laughed lightly, ignoring the twisting, tightening tickle spinning like a roulette wheel beneath her rib cage. “I usually don’t make a habit of exposing my underthings, no.”
“But would you?”
“Strut my stuff?” Did she have it in her to be so bold? Her lips curved upward. And here she’d thought Leo so conventional and conservative. “I might.”
“Now?”
“Now?” She glanced toward the bras. “You want me to…”
He gestured with his chin. “The one on top. Put it on.”
The novelty print? She had black lace, silver lamé, zebra stripes, silk and satin. And he wanted Tinkerbell and Peter Pan?
One corner of his mouth almost lifted. “Just put it on.”
She was absolutely out there to be considering this. Such a strange turn for her scavenger hunt to take. But wasn’t this what she’d wanted? To see where her games might go? Besides, putting it on didn’t mean she had to take anything off.
Keeping that tidbit to herself, she stood, hung the bra around her waist and fastened the single rear hook. The cups and straps dangled over her belly. She slipped her arms out of her sleeves and down inside her T-shirt,working the straps up over her shoulders beneath the narrow pink top.
She exposed a whole lot of belly in the process, but managed to get the bra into place without too many awkward movements. All that was left now was to wiggle one arm, then the other, back through the T-shirt’s armholes and, ta-da!
He didn’t move a muscle. Not so much as an
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