failed.
The doorbell rang, ripping him from his depressing thoughts.
He growled. Goddamn, ’Rissa, why wouldn’t she leave things alone?
He rose and stalked to the door, muttering every obscenity he could think of in irritation. He flung open the door.
“Go to hell,” he bellowed then froze. Blinked. Stared. Blinked again. Unable to process through his shock. “Anna?”
She looked at him with those huge sky-blue eyes. “Hello, Mason.”
He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All he could do was soak in the sight of her and fight the urge to fall to his knees and thank the heavens.
The weather had turned cooler and she wore a black V-necked sweater, matching skirt and knee-high boots.
He frowned.
It was an unusual outfit for her. Usually she wore bright, sunny colors and loose, flowing fabric. Her normal clothes made her look adorable and huggable.
The clothes gave her a sexy, slightly sophisticated air. And huggable wasn’t exactly the word that sprang to mind.
Pink tongue darting out to wet her lower lip, she glanced around, peering into his foyer.
Jesus, he wanted to take that mouth and possess it.
She gave him a slow, dazzling smile that about knocked him on his ass. “Can I come in? Or am I interrupting something?”
He jerked as though awakened suddenly from a deep sleep and stood back, waving her in. “No, of course not, you took me by surprise.”
“Are you expecting someone else?” The silky cadence of her voice slid down his body, more intoxicating than the scotch he’d drunk.
He shrugged. “No, when the bell rang I assumed it was ’Rissa. She’s being a pain in the ass.”
“Are you happy it’s me?” Anna’s head tilted, sending blonde curls flying.
His heart gave a hard thump. “Very. Are you coming in?”
“Yes, please.” She strolled past him. Something had changed in her. It was obvious from the way she carried herself, the way she smiled. It was in the tilt of her chin and tone of her voice.
The question was, what did it mean for them? He supposed he’d find out soon enough and followed her like a puppy dog into the living room.
Mason couldn’t take his eyes off her ass as her hips swayed a seductive beat as she walked. When had he ever seen her in clothes that tight? Not even on their first date. On their first date she’d worn a white dress that practically covered her from head to toe. He’d remembered thinking she looked like an old-fashioned bride.
She sat on the couch with an easy grace. “Do you always tell her to go to hell?”
He took the chair across from her so he could watch every expression on her face. He studied her carefully, mildly annoyed she looked good enough to eat while he felt like yesterday’s garbage.
Damn, she was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. It made it hard for him to think straight.
She raised one golden brow in question and he realized he hadn’t answered her.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not an unheard of occurrence. She’s bossy.”
“Takes one to know one, I suppose.” Anna crossed her legs and black fabric slid up to expose a strip of thigh.
Mason stared at her smooth flesh and clasped his hands tightly together to keep from lunging. “Well, according to her I learned from the best so I suppose there’s some truth to that. But I don’t want to talk about her right now.”
Anna gave him a long, direct stare, then the corners of her mouth turned down. “You don’t look very good.”
He sat back and attempted to find his footing with the woman sitting across from him. Was this how she felt? Back when he’d changed the game on her?
And what was she doing here? Instinct told him it wasn’t to end things. Not with that sly gleam in her eye and that shift of her hips.
With no patience for a cat-and-mouse game, he did what he did best—he tested. “Well, you look very fuckable.”
She tilted her head as though contemplating her response. “Thank you. I’m glad you approve.”
Mason wanted to ask the right
The doorbell rang, ripping him from his depressing thoughts.
He growled. Goddamn, ’Rissa, why wouldn’t she leave things alone?
He rose and stalked to the door, muttering every obscenity he could think of in irritation. He flung open the door.
“Go to hell,” he bellowed then froze. Blinked. Stared. Blinked again. Unable to process through his shock. “Anna?”
She looked at him with those huge sky-blue eyes. “Hello, Mason.”
He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All he could do was soak in the sight of her and fight the urge to fall to his knees and thank the heavens.
The weather had turned cooler and she wore a black V-necked sweater, matching skirt and knee-high boots.
He frowned.
It was an unusual outfit for her. Usually she wore bright, sunny colors and loose, flowing fabric. Her normal clothes made her look adorable and huggable.
The clothes gave her a sexy, slightly sophisticated air. And huggable wasn’t exactly the word that sprang to mind.
Pink tongue darting out to wet her lower lip, she glanced around, peering into his foyer.
Jesus, he wanted to take that mouth and possess it.
She gave him a slow, dazzling smile that about knocked him on his ass. “Can I come in? Or am I interrupting something?”
He jerked as though awakened suddenly from a deep sleep and stood back, waving her in. “No, of course not, you took me by surprise.”
“Are you expecting someone else?” The silky cadence of her voice slid down his body, more intoxicating than the scotch he’d drunk.
He shrugged. “No, when the bell rang I assumed it was ’Rissa. She’s being a pain in the ass.”
“Are you happy it’s me?” Anna’s head tilted, sending blonde curls flying.
His heart gave a hard thump. “Very. Are you coming in?”
“Yes, please.” She strolled past him. Something had changed in her. It was obvious from the way she carried herself, the way she smiled. It was in the tilt of her chin and tone of her voice.
The question was, what did it mean for them? He supposed he’d find out soon enough and followed her like a puppy dog into the living room.
Mason couldn’t take his eyes off her ass as her hips swayed a seductive beat as she walked. When had he ever seen her in clothes that tight? Not even on their first date. On their first date she’d worn a white dress that practically covered her from head to toe. He’d remembered thinking she looked like an old-fashioned bride.
She sat on the couch with an easy grace. “Do you always tell her to go to hell?”
He took the chair across from her so he could watch every expression on her face. He studied her carefully, mildly annoyed she looked good enough to eat while he felt like yesterday’s garbage.
Damn, she was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. It made it hard for him to think straight.
She raised one golden brow in question and he realized he hadn’t answered her.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not an unheard of occurrence. She’s bossy.”
“Takes one to know one, I suppose.” Anna crossed her legs and black fabric slid up to expose a strip of thigh.
Mason stared at her smooth flesh and clasped his hands tightly together to keep from lunging. “Well, according to her I learned from the best so I suppose there’s some truth to that. But I don’t want to talk about her right now.”
Anna gave him a long, direct stare, then the corners of her mouth turned down. “You don’t look very good.”
He sat back and attempted to find his footing with the woman sitting across from him. Was this how she felt? Back when he’d changed the game on her?
And what was she doing here? Instinct told him it wasn’t to end things. Not with that sly gleam in her eye and that shift of her hips.
With no patience for a cat-and-mouse game, he did what he did best—he tested. “Well, you look very fuckable.”
She tilted her head as though contemplating her response. “Thank you. I’m glad you approve.”
Mason wanted to ask the right
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