David pushed into the press of exotic flora, hoping his mosquito repellent was enough to keep hungry tropical critters at bay. Fronds snapped back in place behind him, and he popped out into a generous, cylindrical nook. With interest but no conscious thought, the camera came up again. His finger depressed the shutter automatically for a rapid-fire round of photos as he took in the space. Maybe ten photos had already snapped off when he peered over the top of the Nikon just a bit too late. An occupied lounge chair was straight ahead, featuring the most luscious, mouth-watering pair of...

“Hey!”

He jumped as the heavenly mirage swung around on her lounger, the woman’s feet swooping into delicate sandals as she rose. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Kent sat in the chair, even more awe-inspiring in person than in cell phone images or video chat. His crisp white shirt was rolled to the elbow, and the top buttons were undone. “Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a pair of cream-colored leather armchairs in front of his desk.

She adjusted the oversized purse on her shoulder, but she didn’t move. “Well, this isn’t quite the way I’d envisioned our first in-person meeting.”

His blue eyes slid over every inch of her, and she flushed when she realized she was dressed in the same outfit she’d described to him during their naughty lunchtime phone call—right down to the prim-and-proper bun. Her hand flew to her head to smooth down flyaways, but she dropped it when his eyes followed the movement with too much interest.

“So you were just going to have your secretary toss me out in the street without me even knowing you were here?” she asked.

A flicker of guilt clouded his gaze. “I’m sure you can appreciate why I didn’t think this was the right place for a…confrontation.”