resistance.
She sighed. When had Commando Bitch become such a freaking pushover?
"There's a vacant apartment on the third floor. You can rent it for six hundred a month, if you want. It's one bedroom, one bathroom. Kitchen, living room, and a small washer and dryer. Refrigerator is included."
"Really? That's great! Furniture?"
"A sofa, a kitchen table, and a queen-sized bed. That's about it. I'm sacrificing this for you." Huh, and pigs will fly!
"You're great, you know?"
His smile had her feeling faint. How could he do that to her so easily? Other men in her life had been interesting or hot or fun. None had been magnetic or tied her up into more knots than Lucia when she did yoga. He just got to her.
"Can you show me?"
All the ways in which he affected her? Not a chance. "Excuse me?"
A hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. "The apartment. I'd like to see it."
She nodded and stood. The sooner she dealt with him, the sooner she could excuse herself from his compelling presence. The sooner she could get on with her business and stop being a hormone-happy airhead.
Nicki led him through the club, to the private stairs behind the bar. As she climbed three flights, she not only heard Mark behind her, she felt him. His body heat, his warm breath on the back of her neck, his tempting scent wrapping around her.
Finally, they reached the top of the club. Nicki drew in a deep breath, glad for Mark-free air.
"Wait here just a second," she said, then hustled down the hall to her apartment.
She grabbed the vacant unit's key from the junk drawer in her little kitchen, then joined Mark, who was looking around the narrow landing.
"Is that the apartment?" he asked, nodding toward her door.
"No, this is." She pointed to the door on her right and shoved the key in the lock.
"What do these other doors lead to?"
Nicki hesitated, then realized he was going to figure it out, sooner rather than later. "These are all apartments. The door I just came through leads to mine."
His smile brightened until it could have lit up all of Las Vegas. "I like the neighborhood already."
Rolling her eyes, Nicki did her best to look unmoved by his show of interest. "No normal person I know wants to live close to their boss."
Not waiting for his reply, she opened the door. A blast of hot, stale air whooshed from the unit, into the hall. She stepped back to avoid the draft--and collided with Mr. Yummy's fabulous, hard chest. His hands fell to her waist to steady her. His killer scent surged all around her. She abruptly discovered that the cliche about a woman's knees turning weak was actually true.
"If everyone's boss had your qualities, they would," he whispered in her ear.
Pulse seesawing, Nicki stepped away and cast what she hoped was a warning glance over her shoulder. Restraining herself from jumping on Mark was hard enough. If he was going to encourage her ... hell, it was as dangerous to her agenda as someone waving a seven-layer chocolate cake in front of her on diet days.
"What?" he asked innocently. "You're smart, driven. You seem fair and easy to deal with. That always makes for good neighbors."
He was good--and quick. She'd give him that. It was on the tip of her tongue to demand he claim that kiss he'd won and get it over with, stop holding it over her head and killing her with innuendo and those lust-tinged glances. But she wasn't about to give him the upper hand, even if she had to bite her tongue.
"Thanks," she said dismissively and walked into the apartment. "Kitchen on your left. Nook and living room directly in front. The bedroom is down the hall, first door on your right. Bathroom is on your left. Washer and dryer are at the end of the hall in the closet. I'll let you look around."
With a shrug of those heavenly wide shoulders, Mark glanced around. Less than a minute later, he said, "I'll take it."
That was quick! "Really?"
"It's perfect. Close to work, low maintenance, already equipped with the basics. And," He flashed
She sighed. When had Commando Bitch become such a freaking pushover?
"There's a vacant apartment on the third floor. You can rent it for six hundred a month, if you want. It's one bedroom, one bathroom. Kitchen, living room, and a small washer and dryer. Refrigerator is included."
"Really? That's great! Furniture?"
"A sofa, a kitchen table, and a queen-sized bed. That's about it. I'm sacrificing this for you." Huh, and pigs will fly!
"You're great, you know?"
His smile had her feeling faint. How could he do that to her so easily? Other men in her life had been interesting or hot or fun. None had been magnetic or tied her up into more knots than Lucia when she did yoga. He just got to her.
"Can you show me?"
All the ways in which he affected her? Not a chance. "Excuse me?"
A hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. "The apartment. I'd like to see it."
She nodded and stood. The sooner she dealt with him, the sooner she could excuse herself from his compelling presence. The sooner she could get on with her business and stop being a hormone-happy airhead.
Nicki led him through the club, to the private stairs behind the bar. As she climbed three flights, she not only heard Mark behind her, she felt him. His body heat, his warm breath on the back of her neck, his tempting scent wrapping around her.
Finally, they reached the top of the club. Nicki drew in a deep breath, glad for Mark-free air.
"Wait here just a second," she said, then hustled down the hall to her apartment.
She grabbed the vacant unit's key from the junk drawer in her little kitchen, then joined Mark, who was looking around the narrow landing.
"Is that the apartment?" he asked, nodding toward her door.
"No, this is." She pointed to the door on her right and shoved the key in the lock.
"What do these other doors lead to?"
Nicki hesitated, then realized he was going to figure it out, sooner rather than later. "These are all apartments. The door I just came through leads to mine."
His smile brightened until it could have lit up all of Las Vegas. "I like the neighborhood already."
Rolling her eyes, Nicki did her best to look unmoved by his show of interest. "No normal person I know wants to live close to their boss."
Not waiting for his reply, she opened the door. A blast of hot, stale air whooshed from the unit, into the hall. She stepped back to avoid the draft--and collided with Mr. Yummy's fabulous, hard chest. His hands fell to her waist to steady her. His killer scent surged all around her. She abruptly discovered that the cliche about a woman's knees turning weak was actually true.
"If everyone's boss had your qualities, they would," he whispered in her ear.
Pulse seesawing, Nicki stepped away and cast what she hoped was a warning glance over her shoulder. Restraining herself from jumping on Mark was hard enough. If he was going to encourage her ... hell, it was as dangerous to her agenda as someone waving a seven-layer chocolate cake in front of her on diet days.
"What?" he asked innocently. "You're smart, driven. You seem fair and easy to deal with. That always makes for good neighbors."
He was good--and quick. She'd give him that. It was on the tip of her tongue to demand he claim that kiss he'd won and get it over with, stop holding it over her head and killing her with innuendo and those lust-tinged glances. But she wasn't about to give him the upper hand, even if she had to bite her tongue.
"Thanks," she said dismissively and walked into the apartment. "Kitchen on your left. Nook and living room directly in front. The bedroom is down the hall, first door on your right. Bathroom is on your left. Washer and dryer are at the end of the hall in the closet. I'll let you look around."
With a shrug of those heavenly wide shoulders, Mark glanced around. Less than a minute later, he said, "I'll take it."
That was quick! "Really?"
"It's perfect. Close to work, low maintenance, already equipped with the basics. And," He flashed
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