Excerpt from Finding Mr. Right is Murder
This is going to be a disaster. Leanne grimaced as she stared at the descending numbers in the empty elevator. The front desk had called to tell her that her ride awaited her, but she had the urge to press the Emergency Stop button on the elevator panel and wait it out. Unfortunately Rex, another of the Pogue family retainers, was the limo driver and he’d likely hunt her up if she didn’t show at the stated time. Dire threats from Jenny tended to have that effect on people, the little demon.
Leanne smoothed the front of her conservative sage blouse. The first button was low enough to hint at her cleavage without giving free peeks at her beige lace bra. She wore a textured wraparound skirt that had the same sage color as her blouse threaded in with pine greens and browns. Her legs had long ago lost their summer tan, so she wore a pair of nude pantyhose and sensible leather loafers. Not bad, in Leanne’s opinion, though she’d been in such a rush that she’d barely checked the mirror.
Her laptop was still warm in her bag. She’d been working on her proposal for the Call Me Insurance Company. The clients wanted to see the presentation eight a.m. Monday, and so far she’d thrown out everything she’d been working on. Hopefully Jenny would have the limos waiting early on Sunday morning, so she could get back home and tackle the project with fresh ideas.
She practiced a smile, judging its effect in the reflective elevator doors. Not bad.
I can get in the mood. This could be fun. She thought about the last blind date she’d been on–an unmitigated disaster–and her smile morphed from fresh to pasted. Or not.Stopping on the fifth floor, the elevator’s opening doors treated Leanne to the most spectacular view: a tall, dark, and handsome he-man with a leather jacket slung over one shoulder and a beat-up backpack over the other. Well-worn denim draped casually over his legs, but that didn’t hide his physique at all. The man was s-o-l-i-d. Broad shoulders and a broad chest stretched the fabric of a white business shirt with blue pinstripes. No tie; the shirt was open at the collar revealing a light tuft of chest hair. Leanne was torn between the need to step back and give the strong man his space and the desire to slap her body against his and rub up and down like a cat in heat.
“Hi,” he said as he stepped across the threshold. His lips curved up and oh-so-sexy laugh lines framed his rich brown eyes. Holy Mama, Leanne was ready to melt into a puddle. When was the last time she’d ever seen such a sexy man? Like, never. And she had to go to this stupid slumber party and lose this opportunity forever. Maybe she should slip one of her business cards into his backpack. If only she could be that forward!
“Hi,” she replied, feeling like her mouth was padded with toilet paper. He faced the door as was customary, while also leaning back against the wall so he could look at her. “Hi.” Was that steam coming from his eyes? If ever the definition of bedroom eyes applied, it was here. But the one syllable from his dreamy mouth wasn’t enough. How could she get him to say more? “So, been at the hotel long?”
And Jenny wanted her to be the guest to keep the conversation going? Hah! “Got in last night.”
His dark brown hair, just a bit longer than fashionable, curled about his ears, one of which was pierced with a small silver stud. Leanne longed to run her fingers through his locks while pulling his head closer and closer to her mouth. And look at those lips, perfect for kissing. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo as the longing to taste became a tangible thing. Geez, what was wrong with her?
It’d been too damn long–that was the problem. “Like what you see?”
Rich chocolate voice to go with the eyes, but his grin finally clued her into the fact that she’d been ogling him for five floors. The elevator reached the first floor and the doors dinged open, saving Leanne from a “duh” answer to his question. A gang of business folk waited to enter. The yummy man politely gestured for her to exit first, still grinning. As she stepped through the doors, though, he suddenly stopped her, tugging her back into the elevator–for a kiss maybe? Better than a kiss but wildly inappropriate, his hand slid over her ass and lower still to her thighs. What on earth…?
Okay, Leanne wasn’t being so literal about the bedroom eyes that she wanted the man to feel her up in the elevator. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Your skirt was tucked into your pantyhose.”
“Oh my God!” Oh yeah, her face flamed as if doused in lighter fluid and lit by a match. She reached back to check the man’s handiwork, but dared not meet his eyes. Holy crap, the whole time she’d been standing there… Had he spotted it immediately or just as she’d exited?
“I want to die…right…here.”
He chuckled and tapped her shoulder consolingly, but then he was gone. The waiting mob engulfed Leanne, as Mr. Hottie headed in the direction of the hotel bar without looking back. And why would he? She was obviously someone who lacked the basic skills for public appearance. Well, shit!
Straightening her shoulders, Leanne focused on escaping the group and calming her heart rate. And, oh yeah, she had to get to the waiting limousine.
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