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that where you’re from?”
    “Born and raised in North Carolina.”
    “Ahh, I thought I heard a hint of a Southern drawl.”
    Her cheeks flushed a deep pink. “It still creeps in from time to time. I worked really hard at getting rid of it when I first moved to New York.”
    “Why?”
    She shrugged. “I moved up here when I was seventeen to attend Parson’s School of Design. Everyone else seemed so cosmopolitan and I didn’t want to sound like some hick.”
    “I find it hard to imagine anyone ever thinking of you as a hick. I rather like a Southern accent myself.” He loved the shy smile that spread across her lips.
    While Julia put the tea away, Ben strolled over to her work area. A drafting table was covered with sketches. “Are these all yours?”
    “Yeah. They’re just ideas. Once in a while I get hired to do custom work, but I’m always sketching stuff for my fantasy line.”
    “They’re brill. I know heaps of people in London who’d buy these in a heartbeat. Let me know if you’re in need of referrals.”
    “Thanks. I wish I had time to sew samples. I’ve been doing so many fashion shoots lately it’s left no time for my own stuff.”
    Ben settled himself on the overstuffed sofa. Julia sat at the far end, cross-legged, facing him. She took another sip of iced tea then set it on the end table. “Do you want to listen to music? Watch a movie?”
    “Music. My brain’s too fried to follow a movie plot right now.” The truth was he wanted to keep talking to her. Adrenaline pumped through him just at the thought of being in her flat. Clearly she’d trusted him enough to allow him up, and he was flattered. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He placed his beer on the coffee table and perused her CD collection.
    “It’s mostly older stuff. I haven’t bought much music lately. Haven’t had time.”
    “I see you’re quite a fan of The Cure. Even I don’t have some of these.”
    “They were my favorite band for years.”
    “Mine too.” He pulled out Japanese Whispers and placed the disc in the CD player. The second he hit play, he realized the first song was Let’s Go to Bed .
    Julia didn’t seem to mind. She rubbed the area just beneath her fingers.
    “Hand cramps?” Ben asked, sitting back down.
    “Yes. I hate them. I’ve been sewing so much lately my hands and feet get ridiculously sore.”
    “That’s a classic drummer’s complaint. Here, let me help.” He reached for her.
    She hesitated a moment then placed her hand in his. He rolled her hand between both of his, then went to work massaging small circles up the length of her palm. He ran his hand up each finger, one at a time, applying gentle pressure at the tips.
    “You’re really good at that.”
    “I ought to be. Took three classes in reflexology. Most people don’t realize how grueling drumming can be. Other hand?”
    “Sure.”
    He worked his way through each finger, feeling the tension release as he went. Her tension. Being so close to her, having his hands on her, feeling her soft skin against his, was causing heat to knot his entire body from the waist down. He could tell she was becoming more relaxed by the second. “I do feet too. Come, put them up.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Positive. Come on, you’ve run your hands all over me measuring this and that, I promise your feet are safe with me.”
    She swung her legs onto his lap as she reclined against the cushiony arm of the couch. He shifted so she wasn’t resting against the increasingly stiffening bulge in his jeans. He began the same routine, rubbing first, then pressing in small circles. Her eyes drifted close. She’s so beautiful. Her dark eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Her lips, full and pouty, parted slightly. Within minutes she was asleep, breathing evenly. She may not be willing to have sex with me, but clearly she’s okay with sleeping with me. He chuckled and closed his eyes, letting the soft strains of music carry him away.

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