Sleeping with the Playboy Read Free

back to Donovan. “Have you had any threats or meetings with anyone like that?”
    â€œHey, wait a second here. I don’t have that many acquaintances, and certainly not ones with husbands, jealous or otherwise. Mark, you’re making me out to be some kind of sex addict.”
    â€œNo, not at all,” Dr. Reeves replied, holding up his hands. “I just want to make sure we have all the bases covered.”
    Jocelyn interrupted and spoke in a professional, detached voice. “I’m not judging you, Dr. Knight. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care if you’re a sex addict or a gigolo or a Chippendales model on the weekends for that matter. I just want to know who would want to break into your home, and how I can prevent it from happening again. Now, I would appreciate it if you would just answer my questionshonestly and stop worrying about what I think of you.”
    He set down his wineglass. Looking almost amused, he inclined his head at her. “I truly believe you don’t care, Ms. Mackenzie, and that, oddly enough, is what makes me want to hire you.”
    What did he mean by that?
    He glanced at his friend. “You chose well, Mark. Even if I didn’t ask for your help.”
    â€œI knew you’d see the light,” Dr. Reeves replied.
    Donovan stood. “I’d like you to start right away, Ms. Mackenzie. Tonight as a matter of fact.”
    Jocelyn raised her eyebrow at him again. “When I start— if I start—Dr. Knight, is entirely up to me. I’ll take a look around and ask some more questions first, then, and only then, will I consider taking your case. So you might as well sit back down and think back to every woman you’ve been with in the past six months. Then we’ll talk about a retainer.”
    Dr. Knight smiled again, and quite agreeably sat down.
    Â 
    She was the rudest, coldest, least friendly woman he had encountered since he’d finished medical school ten years ago. And she was completely irresistible.
    After Mark left, Donovan followed Jocelyn into his bedroom while she examined the door that led out onto the rooftop terrace. She tried to stick a finger into the gap between the door and the frame.
    â€œThis needs to be reinforced. It should be less than one-sixteenth of an inch, or a pry bar could be slipped in and the door worked open. And you coulduse some more floodlights on your terrace.” She tapped the glass. “Is this shatterproof?”
    He nodded, and listened attentively to all her comments and suggestions, all the while thinking about how long it had been since a woman had spoken to him with such disinterest.
    Because of his profession and his wealth—a good deal of which was inherited from his parents—women pasted on exaggerated smiles and laughed a little too long at his jokes. They generally dressed to kill, showing off cleavage and wearing spiky heels and glittery lipstick when they were in his company. The women in his life were predictable. They always had that “Maybe I can be the future Mrs. Dr. Knight” look in their eyes. Over the past few years, that kind of social life had begun to grow tiresome.
    Jocelyn Mackenzie was different, though. She wore a plain brown suit with flat shoes, and practically no makeup. Not that she needed any. Her face had a natural beauty with healthy, rosy cheeks, full, moist lips and huge dark eyes a man could lose himself in.
    She didn’t give him that flirtatious look, either, batting her lashes at him. Hell, she barely even noticed him. She was more interested in the nooks and crannies of his penthouse where there were flaws in the security, and figuring out how best to fix those flaws. She didn’t want to impress him. She didn’t care if she pissed him off.
    It was a refreshing change, to be sure.
    â€œSo tell me, Ms. Mackenzie, is my penthouse in bad shape security-wise?”
    She glanced around the bedroom, her face serious,