Ben Laroux is a gorgeous and sexy complication she can’t afford, but also can’t resist.
She fought the urge like mad to scoot closer to her potential client and find out what lay beneath those blue plaid boxers. Her good sense and professionalism warred with her very long-ignored womanly needs.
“Are you having sexy thoughts about me?” Ben asked, breaking into her sexy thoughts. Because his sexy had returned.
“Huh? Of course—not.” Her eyes were unfocused.
“You are. You want to sit on my lap again,” he accused.
“That—wouldn’t be wise.” But God, it would feel so good.
“Stop it! I’m asking for help, here, and you want to climb the tower of Ben.”
“Okay, this isn’t headed anywhere good,” Sabine said.
“Make you a deal.” He appeared deadly serious.
“You stay here tonight—” He held up a hand to stop her shocked protest. “Listen. I’m suggesting I sleep off my beers, make a call to my buddy to have your car cleaned, and we discuss plans for my therapy. And I’ll make eggs in the morning. If you still look at me like that after I’ve sobered up, then, I’ll have no choice but to kiss you again.”
She couldn’t really see a flaw in his plan. Certainly, there were many, but right now, she was seriously charmed by a stinky, post-vomitous guy with a great house. “Um. I’m not sure that’s wise.”
“Because I’m a little distracted by your sitting there in your underwear.”
His eyes changed, the atmosphere between them became charged. “I knew it.”
“Go take a shower and brush your teeth.”
Both laughed at that. Sabine had no idea where this might lead, but either way, she was certain it was a bad idea. Bad.