in charge all the way. Well, the state and the city have a lot of sway here, so theyâll win most of those battles.â
She nodded, looked past his shoulder, then closed her eyes for a moment.
Catherine was an attractive woman. If he had to guess, heâd say she was in her late twenties. But that was based on her confidence and the way she carried herself. There was something about her face that made her look younger and, while not innocent, exactly, protected. That was why heâd almost screwed up. If heâd touched her she might have fired him on the spot and no one would have blamed her, least of all him. She was a client, for Godâs sake.
Shit. Heâd never done anything like that before. It wasnât like him.
He needed to stop staring. It didnât help that her clothes affected him almost as much as her face. But...a black skirt that skimmed her thighs down to her kneecaps. A starched white blouse. How was that so hot? And yet...
She looked at him again, and when her fingers brushed her blond hair back, leaving trails in their wake, he was mesmerized.
The coffee gave one last loud gurgle, and she stood up so quickly he jerked back and jarred the whole couch. He took the opportunity to take a few heartening breaths before he followed her. Whatever the hell was going on with him was nuts. He didnât know her. She wasnât the kind of woman he typically went for.
Not that he was looking to go for any woman at the moment. Except for Rita. Safe, fun, comfortable Rita. That was who he should be thinking about. So, Catherine Fox? Transference. That was all this was. After tonight things would go back to normal.
Before he reached the kitchen, he checked his phone. He always turned it to Vibrate when he was with a client. So far, no messages, which was a good sign.
Joining Catherine at the counter, he bumped her shoulder as she turned, and she dropped a teaspoon.
âSorry,â he said, and bent to pick it up, but so did she and they almost collided.
âOh.â
He heard her breath stutter, a little gasp right in his ear. Instead of picking up the spoon, he steadied Catherine, his hand on her shoulder. The exact wrong move heâd just lectured himself about.
Her eyes widened and she made a sound. It was a blend of a squeal and a whimper, setting off a chain reaction that went all the way down his body.
He lowered his hand and they both straightened. He caught a glimpse of pink-splashed cheeks before she turned away. He stepped back, stealing a second to adjust himself and will his dick to knock it off.
âCream? Sugar?â Her voice was completely controlled. Not what heâd expected.
âUh...â
âIâve also got honey, but thatâs more for tea.â
Okay, so she wasnât quite as unruffled as sheâd sounded. Coffee, though. Something to do with his mouth instead of sticking his foot in it. âBlack is fine, thanks.â
She got a new spoon, poured and added a packet of raw sugar to her cup. No more pink on her cheeks. Just silky smooth skin, pale and perfect.
âIâm used to living in major cities,â she said, and he tried to remember the last thing theyâd discussed, but came up blank.
âMy last apartment was in London and that was ridiculously expensive. Worth it, though. I loved living there. I almost kept it, but that didnât seem very practical. I think New York is a better fit. Thereâs a rhythm to the city that revs me up. I like the bustle and the sounds. The smells could be improved, but all in all, Iâm glad I moved.â
Europe, London, New York? He wondered what she did for a living. Something glamorous, he imagined. Definitely high up the social ladder.
They were back at the couch again, and her calm speech had relaxed him enough to gather his wits. âListen, I have some time before my next appointment. Why donât you tell me more about what youâre looking for in your