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Staring into a cup of black sludge the mini-mart around the corner from my house passes off as coffee, I slough off the thought that I need to be gathering my papers and making my way to the conference room. Instead, my stubborn mind is still fixated on Friday night.

Every time I think back on that magical, frightening encounter, I flush and overheat. The man knew my body. How to control it. How to please me. Better, even, than I know. He’d understood exactly how to take me higher, precisely how to push me over the edge. He did it with ruthless skill.

He also stole past my defenses and made love to me.

How?

Despite my brave words to Noah last Friday afternoon, I’m not a casual sex sort of girl. Oh, the idea has appeal. All the pleasure, none of the strings that eventually bring pain when the relationship dies and someone leaves… But deep down, I’m the kind of woman whose body follows her heart. My Friday night stranger gave me a fabulous handful of orgasms, true—but I can’t escape my good-girl roots. I allowed—oh, let’s be honest—begged a man whose name I don’t even know to invade my body…and he’d slipped into my soul. I responded with abandon. I’ve never given myself that completely to any man, not even my husband of nearly ten years.

Why?

Because I was thinking so much of Noah. Somehow, that man got under my skin and chiseled his way into my heart.

But even before the naughty fantasies of my boss, I was responding to Mr. Mysterious with complete abandon, and that realization leaves me both thrilled and shamed. Have I changed? Did my body recognize the stranger as my ultimate sexual mate? Or did I surrender so completely because something about him reminded me a bit of Noah?

Even more frustrating, rather than patting myself on the back for verbally chasing him out of my bed after “the deed,” I’m sulky. He said he’d be back. Two whole days at home with the phone constantly near as I laid bathroom tile. Nada. My girls called. Tim phoned to arrange a drop-off for the kids. My mother called to ask if I plan to come to Aunt Frannie’s birthday party in two weeks.

I listened to every sound in the house, thinking he might sneak back in. Other than the postal carrier delivering some clothes I bought the girls online, no one else has darkened my doorstep.

Mr. Mysterious disappeared as completely and thoroughly as he pleasured me.

To make matters worse, when I try to figure out who he might be—I only get a headache for my efforts. Someone I know, he claimed. I’d love for him to be Noah, but I live in reality, so…moving on.

He isn’t Gary in accounting. Gary isn’t tall enough to be my stranger. He’s not Tim. I’d know my ex anywhere. Besides, I never responded to Tim like that, and he isn’t nearly as imaginative as Mr. Mysterious in bed. Who, then? A neighbor I haven’t noticed? Someone who works in this building? None of those men know me well. Certainly not well enough to know I’m on the pill. Nothing adds up.

“Good morning,” a dark male voice rasps behind me.

I shiver. Noah. Has to be. But that husky note reminds me of my stranger.

You wish.

I shoot a sharp gaze up to him. Mistake. Big mistake. Pale blue eyes spark with energy and something I can’t define. A five-o’clock shadow, despite the early hour, dark hair slightly mussed, and a killer suit that hugs his body every bit as tightly as I want to myself.

Pathetic. I have to stop mooning over my boss. Over Tim’s pal. God, if Noah knew the thoughts running through my head, he’d laugh. If he knew how I responded to a stranger just by fantasizing about him, he would run for the hills.

Giving myself a mental shake, I try to clear my head. If Noah is interested—big if—he’d simply ask me out on a nice, polite date. Dinner and a movie. A trip to an art gallery. The symphony. He wouldn’t play Conan the Seducer. I’ve seen him with enough women over the years to know that isn’t his style.

Even if by some miracle he started a fling with me, he’d leave me, as he leaves every other woman. It would hurt like hell. Not to mention the fact my rapport with a longtime friend and my boss would be gone.

More’s the pity. I adore everything about him…including the grin he’s flashing me.

I muster a smile in return. “Morning.”

“You ready?”

“Ready?” For you to notice I’m female?

“For this morning’s meeting.”

Of course. Business. Stay focused, girl.

I nod Noah’s way. “As I’ll ever be. Your assistance with the prep last week made the presentation stronger. You really are the master strategist. Thanks for your help.”

“I think your plan is a solid one. Now it’s up to you to convince the others. Speaking of which, shouldn’t we be on our way to the room to set up?”

I glance at my watch—and nearly flinch. “Ten ‘til eight? Oh, wow. Yeah.”

Grabbing a stack of papers, I reach for the laptop with my presentation all loaded on the hard drive. Noah already has it in the grip of his large hand.