Sheer Decadence. Tanya Michaels

she punched the number for the appropriate floor and rolled her eyes inwardly at the orchestral intro to a made-for-elevators remix of an old Police tune. As the doors began to slide closed, a hand shot between them, followed by an arm in a long-sleeved gray shirt she unfortunately recognized. The doors sprang back, and Justin Hawthorne entered, his expression triggering an automatic uh-oh inside her.

      Blond brows scrunched together in a scowl, eyes hard as emeralds, he did not look happy.

      Now that the doors were open, she glanced out in the lobby, hoping for someone else who needed to go upstairs. Luck wasn’t with her, but one would think she’d be used to that.

      “Wh-which floor do you need?” she asked. Darn it, she hadn’t meant to sound all breathy, as though she were nervous. Or, worse, attracted to him. She stoutly refused to be either. Number fourteen was already lit, but she wished she had an excuse to hit three and leave sooner.

      “I’ll just ride up with you.” He made it sound like a challenge. “We were supposed to have a chat, remember?”

      His accusatory stance and the way he crossed his arms over his chest set her teeth on edge.

      “I remember that I was supposed to be headed off on vacation tomorrow.” Though she’d sworn not to broach this topic, bringing it up made her feel better, as if suddenly she could breathe more deeply. She wasn’t the type to be quietly wronged.

      “Vacation? Is that why you’re being so uptight?”

      He was criticizing her?

      She jabbed her index finger into his chest, hating that she noticed how tightly muscled it was. “I’m sorry if you’ve confused my adult restraint with being uptight, but not all of us have to hit on every member of the opposite sex we encounter.”

      “Every member?” Green flame flared in his eyes. “When was I hitting on you? Or is that the problem—jealous, Liv?”

      Men and their egos! “Try relieved. I’d hate to be like Kate or that cute little blonde at the restaurant and get suckered in by your—”

      “Blonde? Restaurant?”

      The words avalanched out of her, her tone growing colder with each syllable. “The ritzy one downtown, where I saw you and the blonde in the black dress on your date last night. You know, the date that was so important you inconvenienced my life without so much as a second thought. Since when is wining and dining someone—”

      He pressed a finger to her lips, and Olivia gasped in surprise, startled by the heat of his skin. She felt branded.

      “That blonde,” he said, “was my kid sister Andrea. She’s going away to school in Europe. It was her last night in the States, which I wasn’t about to miss. And I tried to tell you about it in your office the other day, but you cut me off.”

      Olivia couldn’t have been more uncomfortable if she’d been wearing a thong two sizes too small. She’d seen a hot guy with a pretty young woman and had taken a running leap toward the nearest conclusion without even considering other logical possibilities. Obviously previous experiences had left her jaded, but her past wasn’t Justin’s fault.