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finger.
    She couldn’t help but comply, and when she did, his expression made her breath snag in her throat. She could lose herself forever in his sandstorm gaze.
    “So you’re a PK,” he murmured. “That explains a lot.”
    “Huh?”
    “Never mind. We don’t know each other very well at all, do we?”
    Bailey opened her mouth to refute him, but closed it again. He was right. They’d had sex with each other, shared their bodies in the most intimate of ways, but almost everything else she knew about him was second-hand. Was it smart to get to know him better? It was bad enough that her body couldn’t quite seem to find the muscular will to resist him. What if she came to really like him, too?
    “Scarlett told me that at the beginning of their relationship, she and Lukas made an agreement to use words so Lukas wouldn’t misinterpret her emotions,” he said. “Why don’t we try the same?” He waved an arm at the great room’s picture window, opaque with ice. “Why don’t we get to know each other better? We seem to have some time on our hands.”
    The velvet rumble of his voice, his drugging scent, made her stomach flutter. Without her quite being aware of it, she reached for his chest.
    Rafe leaned back, out of range of her naughty hand. He inhaled hugely, his eyes drifting closed before he fought them open.
    “What?” His scent drifted over, made her eyes blur.
    “Pheromones,” he gritted out. “So no touching.”
    “Huh?” She was so confused—and so, so aroused. The strain in his voice tugged at her very womb. “No touching?”
    “No.”
    “At all?” she breathed, eyes on his lips.
    He inhaled deeply, his eyes flaring with a desire he couldn’t feign or disguise. “You’re killing me here,” he said on a laughing groan. Turning, he padded to the kitchen in his elegant bare feet. “Coffee first. Then I have to do some sketching. Without touching you. Somehow.” He reached down to the front of his sweatpants and adjusted himself.
    The frank gesture, so at odds with his typical high tea manners, almost made her moan. God help her, he was even more attractive with his control frayed around the edges.
    Pans clanged together in the kitchen.
    She bit back a giggle, but it quickly died. Snowed in with a sex demon. How was she going to keep her hands off him?
    Knowing he wanted her, too?

CHAPTER THREE
    ––––––––
    A nd...action.
    “Dang it,” Wyatt Cooper muttered as the cutting winter wind tried its best to snatch the door handle out of his grasp. He shouldered into the building’s cavernous lobby and stomped the snow off his shoes, juggling a messenger bag, a leather portfolio and an almost empty coffee cup. He’d purposely spilled most of the coffee on himself and the folder on his way in from the parking lot.
    The woman helming the huge reception desk looked him up and down as he approached, taking in the wet stain darkening his light blue dress shirt, and the dripping leather folder he carried. “Tough morning?”
    He quirked a rueful smile, tipping his head slightly so his bangs flopped onto his forehead. She was a trim, yoga-toned forty, a single mother recently divorced from a man who’d cheated on her with a younger woman. A little light flirting certainly wouldn’t hurt. It never did.
    “You don’t know the half of it.”
    And she really didn’t. He’d spent all night slogging through the hard drive of the computer he’d hired a colleague to steal from Bailey’s apartment. She hadn’t even bothered to password-protect the thing, and now he knew why. The hard drive was a barren wasteland. Her real work—the good stuff—must be at Sebastiani Security or Sebastiani Labs.
    He didn’t have the skill to take Bailey on mano-a-mano, but hopefully others who did would keep her busy for awhile. 
    He straightened, fighting off tiredness. The coffee he’d spilled was his fourth cup since midnight. He didn’t pull all-nighters very often anymore, but a legit paying