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  crack. Then he leaned in and kissed her. A good-bye kiss. An I’m sorry I can’t be more for you kiss. A you’re breaking my heart kiss . . .

  She clung. Only for a moment, she told herself. A moment was all she needed, but that moment turned into two . . . and then they were straining toward each other, hands colliding for purchase, suddenly breathless and not so suddenly all heated up.

  It was crazy. It was wrong. And she didn’t care.

  “What time’s your flight?” she gasped as he slipped a hand beneath her shirt and cupped a breast.

  “I can’t remember.” His thumb stroked her nipple. “I can barely remember my own name. Dani, what the hell are we doing?”

  “Saying good-bye in the same way we started this whole thing.” She pushed up his shirt, then leaned in and kissed a hard pec.

  Breathing unsteadily, he yanked out his cell phone. “Maddie? What time’s my flight? An hour? Great, thanks.” Tossing the phone over his shoulder, he urged Dani toward the couch, then gave a little push so that she fell into it.

  Following her down, he put his mouth to her ear. “This is crazy.”

  “I know. But I can’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  “No. No stopping.” Her shirt flew over his shoulder, along with her bra, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Okay, don’t talk. I can’t say good-bye this way if you talk—”

  Her words stuttered to a halt when he sucked her nipple into his mouth, playing the other one between his fingers and thumb.

  “So gorgeous,” he murmured, his mouth still full. “Sorry, can’t seem to stop talking.” Her shoes, pants, and panties went the way of her other things, until she was completely naked beneath him. “Or touching you . . .” He slid a finger into her, groaning when he found her already wet. He put his face to her belly. “God, Dani. You do me in. Every single time . . .” He kissed his way to her hip, licking and nibbling, leaving her an anticipatory, trembling, needy mass of quivering nerve endings . . . Good-bye. This was good-bye . . .

  “Can you really walk away from this?” His shoulders wedged her thighs open so he could look his fill. “Can you?”

  “I . . . don’t know. Shayne, I’m feeling really naked.”

  “I like you naked.” Gently he stroked her with his thumb, once, twice, tugging a soft cry from her lips that she couldn’t hold back.

  She was completely undressed, open to him, and he was still fully dressed. But then he replaced his fingers with his mouth . . .

  And then a most impressive erection . . .

  All of which brought her right out of herself, and then again when he came too. It took a while but she slowly came back, in his arms, face-to-face, their hearts racing.

  As one.

  How ironic was it that their hearts could beat as one, when their minds and souls couldn’t?

  Wouldn’t.

  Chapter 25

  The one thing Maddie had gotten from her parents—good genes. She tended to use those genes to her best advantage. Especially on a day like today, when she was still stinging from the other night. The night Brody had driven her home without a word. Not a single mention of their kiss, nothing.

  So she’d decided not to mention it either. She wore a baby-soft angora sweater and a little black skirt with fuck-me black heels. Today, she fit the secretary fantasy down to the last little bobby pin.

  She was going to show Brody.

  Exactly what she was going to show him, she really had no idea, other than she was suffering, so he needed to suffer right alongside of her. To that end, when she saw his car pull in the lot, she came around the front of the desk and perched a hip on one corner, crossing her legs so that her skirt rose, accenting her runner legs that she knew could make a grown man drool.

  But Brody had the nerve to walk in the door with his cell phone to his ear, his coffee at his lips, and head straight for his office.

  Not so much as a glance.

  Bullshit if she was going to let him get away with that! She cleared her throat, which had him taking a quick glance over his shoulder.

  Executing an almost comical double take at the sight of her, he simultaneously dropped his cell phone and spilled his coffee down the front of him.

  Oh, yeah. Payback was a bitch. It took all she had not to grin, but damn, suddenly the day was looking up. Way up.

  “Shit.” He brushed at his coffee-stained white shirt. “Shit!”

  “You already said that.”

  Over his now half-empty coffee mug, he glared at her. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Did what?” She accompanied this with her best innocent smile as she put a box of tissues on top of the counter.

  He yanked a handful and pressed them to his shirt. “You know damn well what.” He gestured to her body. “You look . . .”

  “Yes? I look what?”

  Crouching, he grabbed his phone. “You made me hang up on Noah, damn it.” He flipped it open and hit a number. “Noah? Sorry.” He stared at Maddie. “Got distracted. I’ll call you back later.”

  Oh yeah, the day was definitely going to be a good one.

  Brody slapped the phone shut against his thigh, pulled his coffee-soaked shirt away from his skin, and winced. “Ouch.”

  “Maybe you ought to be more careful.”

  “I need to change.”

  “There’s two clean shirts in your closet.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Okay, don’t thank me, it’s my job.”

  He looked a little baffled at her snooty tone. Stupid, stupid man.

  After another long look, he turned away, all long and hard muscled and badass, soaked in coffee.

  “Brody?”

  He glanced back. “Yeah?”

  “I looked what?”

  “Nothing.” He turned away again, but she’d have sworn he mouthed, “Hot, you look hot”—in an extremely unhappy tone.

  Glad he was suffering, she moved behind her desk, burying herself in work, of which she had plenty. She had leases to prepare and three important flights to organize, two of which were for W-VIPs.

  Whiny Very Important Persons.

  No problem. She happened to specialize in W-VIPs, and prided herself on being able to please any client they’d ever had. She could fulfill any special request, acquiring and getting delivered the most difficult and rare of items, and make it look easy.

  First W-VIP, Mr. Komomoto. Noah would be flying him to Aspen, and en route Mr. Komomoto would expect a full course dinner of the highest caliber. Today’s demand—er, request was Alaskan crab, which she was having delivered from a five-star restaurant.

  Second W-VIP for today? Michelle, one of their richest—and most annoying—clients.

  It wasn’t often Maddie felt sorry for Shayne. Who could feel sorry for a guy who looked like he did, had the money he did, and was as talented as he was? But he’d gone out with Michelle, what, maybe twice, before making it clear that he wasn’t interested in more, which she’d not taken well. For the past two weeks, she’d called every day, multiple times, making Maddie her own personal sounding board. Ha! Maybe the person Maddie should feel sorry for was herself.

  In any case, Michelle wanted to fly to Mexico and had a special in-flight request. She wanted an ice bath. Odd, yes, but then again Maddie found most of the rich and famous were very odd, but it didn’t matter what she thought. A request was a request, and it was her job to fill it.

  It was her job to fulfill every wish.

  She just wished Brody had a wish for her to fulfill . . .

  “Is Shayne ready for me?”

  Maddie looked up from her computer, managing to keep her features in a polite smile. Speak of the devil. Michelle stood there looking Barbie-doll perfect as always in a Prada suit, every hair in place, lipstick perfect, towing a large designer suitcase behind her.

  Maddie pulled Michelle’s flight file. “You’re early. That’s no problem, I’ll call your pilot.”