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was now. Women had always flocked to him, mostly because of his Italian good looks, so he’d never really had to work at it, and had taken them for granted.
    Sex was certainly a part of his life, but not an important one. He’d often foregone sex with Audrey for late night business meetings. And it had seemed that she hadn’t minded that much as long as he went to every important society event with her. These events had been few and far between, as most of them bored the hell out of him.
    Daniel rarely appeared in any gossip pages, which had bothered Audrey tremendously since she loved reading about herself in the papers. He was much more of a private person and certainly not as flashy as she’d wanted him to be. Looking back now, he didn’t know why he’d ever started dating her. They were completely unsuited for each other.
     

2
     
    If only Sabrina Palmer had taken the other job she’d been offered and not this one at the Law Offices of Brand, Freeman & Merriweather, she wouldn’t want to crawl out of her skin right now. She’d be sitting in an air conditioned law office in Stockton with a job that would probably go nowhere, rather than having one of the senior associates hover over her from behind, pretending to read the document on her computer screen when she knew he was peering down her blouse.
    But no, Sabrina had to go for the job with the most reputable firm in San Francisco in the hope of gaining the right kind of legal experience to advance her career. She’d passed the bar with flying colors and thought she could take on the world, only to come up against an age-old problem: she was a woman in a man’s world.
    And now, instead of getting to work on any of the interesting cases the male junior associates were assigned to, she was relegated to routine corporate law while Jon Hannigan, or Slime Ball Jonny, as the secretaries called him behind his back, checked out her boobs.
    Not that her boobs were that pronounced, but for her petite size she had a nicely proportioned set, together with a relatively curvy figure. Slim like a model she wasn’t, nor was she tall. She would have loved to be at least a couple of inches taller so not all men would automatically be able to look down to her navel when she wore a vee neckline, but she couldn’t change her genes.
    Sabrina wore her hair shorter than she had in law school, and she’d recently had it trimmed so that it barely grazed her shoulders. It was what her enthusiastic hairstylist called darkest brown. He’d also begged her to allow him to lighten it up with highlights, but she’d refused each time and only let him layer it so it framed her face with a softer style.
    “You’ll need to rephrase this paragraph,” Hannigan suggested as he leaned even closer and moved his arm past her shoulder to point at the screen. A whiff of body odor accompanied his movement. “You need to convey intent.”
    “I understand.”
    She knew all about intent. His intent. The day she was introduced to Jon Hannigan, she knew he’d be trouble. The sleazy look he’d given her had told her everything she needed to know: to be on guard. He’d squeezed her hand with his sausage fingers for far too long, and Sabrina had to keep all her cool not to yank it out from his grip, causing an unpleasant scene.
    His pasty face was accentuated by an often slightly red nose, which could have been either caused by too much exposure to the sun or too much imbibing of alcohol. She suspected the latter. Hannigan wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t particularly ugly either, even though this personality made him ugly from the inside.
    If she had to describe him to anybody, she would have said he was average: just an average asshole.
    “Sabrina, I’ll let you in on a little secret. You want to move up here, you just stick with me.”
    Sabrina shuddered inwardly. Moving up wasn’t what he had in mind, she was certain. Moving down was much more likely, down his body. She’d heard enough from