One Night Standards Read Online Free PDF Page B

before dealing with it. Odds were good it was somebody he didn’t want to talk to, anyway…or somebody it would stress him out to know he’d missed. He could just say that he’d slept in or something.
    He thought back a minute, thinking of Sophie, naked on the other side of the wall.
    Or something.
    Finally, in a world’s record of getting cleaned up, he collected the message.
    â€œMark? This is Simone. I think something might be wrong with your phone. I’ve decided to call an impromptu staff meeting at nine this morning, and I want you there a few minutes early…. I think we need to talk.” A pregnant pause. “Yes. We definitely need to talk.”
    Mark winced, then grabbed his briefcase. He wasn’t going to bring his laptop—Simone didn’t approve of them in meetings. He was almost out the door when he suddenly found that his phone was missing. He searched for it frantically, cursing a blue streak when it didn’t show up. He didn’t even have stuff out of his bags, for pity’s sake, where could he have…
    He winced.
    Sophie.
    He took a deep breath, glanced at his watch. Eight-forty. He should leave in five minutes. He prayed that Sophie hadn’t rushed off….
    He looked down the hallway again, as furtive as a spy, then knocked softly on her door. Then knocked louder.
    â€œJust a minute!”
    She opened the door. She looked…well, wet, to be honest, her toffee-colored waves pulled back in a ponytail that emphasized the classic lines of her face. She was wearing glasses, cute wire-rims. She blinked at him as she put an earring in her ear.
    â€œHi,” he said, and without waiting for an invitation, he dashed into her room.
    â€œUm, hi. I’m in a hurry….”
    â€œI can’t find my phone,” he explained, looking around. She’d done the same thing as he had—dug into her bags for clothes—but otherwise everything was as is. Except for the clothes she’d stripped off last night, which were still in a trail that led to the bed.
    Don’t think about it, don’t think about it….
    â€œListen, about last night,” she said softly.
    â€œNo worries,” he interrupted. “Really. We were both tired, we weren’t really thinking, it just seemed like a good idea at the time….”
    â€œThat’s not it.”
    He looked up, finally. She looked near tears.
    He tried not to think about how hot she’d been. How very, very much he’d wanted her. How much he still wanted her, come to that. She was amazing, sweet and sexier than anybody he’d met in a long time.
    â€œIt’s not that bad,” he said. “You didn’t…”
    Before he could say anything else, she flew at him, and he felt that hot, mobile mouth of hers against his. And whatever strange craziness had come over him last night was back again with a vengeance. It wasn’t a fluke…wasn’t because they were tired, wasn’t because they were punch-drunk and lonely.
    She still wanted him.
    His hands clutched at the small of her back, dragging her up against him…. Then he pulled away. What was he doing? He had a meeting in minutes, and so did she, and what were they doing?
    Besides, you still don’t have a condom.
    â€œI still want you,” she breathed. “I know the timing’s lousy, and it’s probably not anything either of us should do anything about, I mean we’re professionals, and…” She stopped. “I’m babbling.”
    â€œYou hate that,” he couldn’t help but point out, with a smile, thinking of last night.
    â€œThe thing is, I would still love to make love with you. I just thought you should know that.” She shrugged, the blush on her cheeks owing nothing to cosmetics.
    He reached out and kissed her back, hard, gratifying in the sound of her low moan. “You don’t even know how much I still want to make love to