Standing in the Shadows by Shannon McKenna

was their soft, fragrant bed as he surged into ber, deep and desperate
—
    The alarm shrilled. Erin jolted upright in bed. She slapped the alarm into submission and covered her face with shaking hands. The alarm had cut her off at the good part, and left her high and dry. What rotten, cruel timing. She could hardly breathe, she was so turned on.
    She'd been having that dream for years. Connor's garb varied according to what she was researching at the time; sometimes he wore jeans and a T-shirt, sometimes he was a Celtic warrior, sometimes a Roman soldier. The details didn't matter. The dream always left her writhing in bed, quivering thighs clenched tight around a pool of liquid heat. Distracted by lust. The last thing she needed to cope with today.
    She tried to be objective, adult. Dreams were messages from the subconscious mind. This was fine and good, and she appreciated the courtesy. But what could this dream indicate, with her life the way it was? She'd never had sex with Connor. She'd barely ever managed to have sex with anybody, at least not successfully, so why should her subconscious mind use sex to make its point? To get her attention?
    She hugged her knees to her chest, still shaking. If that was the intent, it had worked. Just a dream, she repeated. Just a dream.
    She glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. Time to make some tea and calm herself down with something busy and constructive, but horror of horrors, there was nothing left to do. The apartment was already painfully tidy. Everything that could be alphabetized was. Every surface that could be scrubbed shone. Her packing was done, her travel clothes laid out, down to the last hairpin. If this went on, she would be reduced to cleaning off the gunk that accumulated on the computer keyboard with cotton swabs and alcohol. Coping mechanisms gone wild.
    The intercom buzzed. Her first thought was that it might be Connor, and she stumbled across the room, electrified. "Who is it?"
    "It's me, silly. Tonia. Don't tell me Ms. Perfect is still in bed?"
    "Oh, hi, Tonia. The elevator's still broken. Take the stairs."
    She pulled on some sweats while she waited for Tonia's knock. She opened the door and gave her friend a grateful hug. "You are such a sweetheart for helping me. I hate leaving Edna at the pet hotel."
    Tonia tossed her black curls. "No big deal. Sorry I had to bug you so early. Shall I take Edna home with me, or just take your keys?"
    "Whatever's more convenient for you," Erin said. "And I am taking you out to dinner as soon as I get back."
    "Oh, stop." Tonia rolled her artfully made-up eyes. "I'll take Edna home, then. She can chase some of the neighbor cats around. She's such a warmongering bitch, she must feel stir-crazy in this tiny place."
    Erin was all too aware of how the fussy Edna hated being cooped up in an efficiency apartment. But life was tough all around.
    "I'm sure it'll be a nice treat for her," she said tightly.
    Tonia lifted up a Starbucks bag. "I brought us some sticky buns, plus a couple of double-shot lattes. You need a stiff dose of caffeine."
    Erin devoured a gooey bun while Tonia pawed through

Erin's suitcase. "You can't go meet an eligible zillionaire dressed like this," Tonia protested. "You don't have a single thing that shows off your chest, and you have a fine chest, girl! What am I going to do with you?"
    Erin shrugged. "I'm going for professional, not sexpot."
    "The two are not incompatible." Tonia wagged an admonishing finger at her. "When you come back, we are going shopping, and I will personally show you how to reconcile them."
    "I'm broke," Erin said. "No shopping until my ship comes in."
    Tonia rolled her eyes. "That's what I love about you, Erin. So naive. Let me lay out the plan for you. Step One, borrow my clothes to make that all-important first impression. Step Two, get passionately friendly with the zillionaire. And then,
then
we will go shopping."
    "Oh, stop it. This is a work thing. And besides, I…" Her voice