That Kind of Special Read Free

he was touching a woman.
    He hadn’t realized her hair was auburn when she had it up in a clip. His fingers curled. He had a weakness for auburn-haired women.
    Katina planted her hands on her bare hips. “How the hell did you get in my apartment?”
    “Proving my point about how bad an idea it is not to have a newer dead bolt installed on your door and actually using it. One that I can’t open with at least two keys in my pocket. That means anyone with half a brain could get into the apartment, and you wouldn’t even hear them.” He shrugged out of his jacket. “I’ve made a call and arranged to have someone install a dead bolt on your door, and as much as I’d love to stand here and enjoy your lovely body, it’s probably wise for you to get dressed. I wouldn’t want someone else to see you this way.”
    He recognized the moment her lack of clothing came into play. She crossed her arms and blushed. He gave her another look, taking his time. Definitely, the loveliest woman he’d ever seen.
    A body made for sex with the reaction of an innocent. Something about her made him want to hold on to her and protect her from others, because she had no clue about the way she affected the opposite sex. She led men to desperation, like her ex-boyfriend he’d laid out.
    “Oh. My. God.” She gawked at him and mumbled, “I can’t believe you.”
    “Soon as the dead bolt is installed, I’ll be on my way.” He tossed his jacket toward the leather couch.
    She clamped her lips together and muffled a scream. He watched her whirl around and stomp down the hallway. The burst of anger made her ass clench and bounce in the most hypnotic way.
    A door slammed. He smiled and strolled to the open kitchen to find the broom and paper towels to wipe up the spill. Halfway through sweeping up the shards of glass, he watched Katina come out of her room. He finished the job and carried the dustpan to her garbage can without saying a word.
    She’d changed into jeans and a rocker T-shirt that hung off one shoulder. He took a second peek at her and laughed inside. She’d even taken the time to put on a pair of crazy socks with toes. He’d never seen such a thing, and he couldn’t help looking again.
    Her gaze stayed on him, and he gave her time to get over her snit while he put everything away, found more wine, and poured them each a new glass. He held out her drink, grinning when she snatched it out of his hand. She had something to say, and he imagined it was only a matter of time before she spoke her mind.
    “An hour, and I’ll be gone. You can handle sharing a drink while we wait together.” He held out his arm, motioning toward the couch.
    She followed him and took a seat by the window in an armed chair, opposite of the sofa, and the farthest spot away from him she could get. “Can you forget what you saw?”
    He leaned back against the cushion and stretched his legs out, grinning. “I’ve seen women with less on.”
    “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She waved her hand in front of her. “I don’t need to know about your women.”
    “Then what?”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I was in a hurry this morning…”
    “And?”
    “I didn’t take the time to see what I grabbed out of my dresser, okay?” She glanced away, stuck out her lower lip, and blew her long bangs out of her eyes. “Kill me now,” she muttered.
    “You’ll have to give me another hint.” He hung his arm over the back of the couch.
    “I didn’t match,” she said, letting her hair fall forward, covering half her face. “It’s one thing for me to know it, another for everyone else to know it for a fact. My life is about color coordination, putting stripes with bold reds, plaids with the Scottish tastes. I’m an interior designer, creating million-dollar rooms. People pay me to match.”
    “I still don’t—”
    “No one would suspect that personally, I could care less whether my underwear matches…or how scattered my own house is at the