“Don’t leave voicemails for women very often, do you?”
He glanced away from the congested traffic and met her amused gaze. Realization flashed through his eyes and…wait, was Leo embarrassed? Flushing red?
“I’m guessing most women fall all over themselves to answer your call, right? Maybe jump out of showers, cut meetings short, hang up on friends, all so they can answer when you call?”
Her saccharine smile made him do a double take.
“What? I don’t know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”
Liar. He did know. She gathered he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on the female of their species. How could he not? Hadn’t she brought him home and called out his name over and over and over again?
Heat burned her cheeks and tingling flooded her below the waist. Worth it. Yes. He was good in bed. Better than good, but she was certain that Leo had arrived at excellence after practice. Lots and lots of practice.
“Where’s the property?” she asked, turning the subject to business and away from anything that provoked her blushing, his shoulder shrugging, and the sexual tension simmering between them.
“Near Central Park. Great view, especially at night. We own the building. There’s a floor with an industrial kitchen and space for dining and parties.”
“What do you guys use it for?”
“There was a catering company in there for a while, but they bailed. Haven’t had anyone take on the space, so we’ve been sitting on it looking for the right tenant. Kind of pricey but the location is good. If you’re into doing parties and you have clients who need a venue, this one is pretty ideal.”
Gwen’s heart pattered. The property sounded exactly like what she wanted and needed to take her business to the next level. A large space in a neighborhood convenient to her clients, with a kitchen on site? Every party planner’s dream, but of course she was still a small business. She couldn’t imagine the kind of rent Travati Financial would be looking for on a space like that.
*
“I love the view.”
Gwen turned and the golden light from the setting sun swept over her dark red hair, turning the color a burnt copper. Her smile was the widest he’d seen directed toward him since New Year’s.
Every muscle in his body tightened. Gwen was spectacular, and not just because of her looks. She carried herself with warmth and grace. Her laugh, her smile—she intrigued Leo in a way that some of the most enchanting women in the world hadn’t. She walked toward the floor to ceiling windows and looked out over Central Park.
“But as much as I love the space, I don’t think it’ll work.”
His brows creased. “What? Why?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Not nearly hipster enough for your partners.” She crossed her arms and swept a glance around the room. “They’ve nixed nearly all my suggestions. Plus, the place we went to earlier?”
“The Puke Palace?”
“I’d been thinking of it as the dungeon, but actually, that’s a better name. Yes, that place was their idea.” She waved her hand toward the high-ceilinged room with its polished wood floors. “This will be much too upscale for them. They’re looking for a gritty, hip sort of place. I’m trying to find one that doesn’t have throw up on the floor.”
“Tall order.” Leo walked toward her, drawn like a magnet to metal. The halo of golden setting sunlight outlined her body.
“You have no idea.”
She turned from the window. She was right beside him. Close, very close. Close enough for him to catch the scent of flowers…what kind of flowers? Magnolias? He didn’t know flowers, couldn’t possibly know that, and yet he was sure he was right. Magnolias…the scent was Gwen. A scent that had clung to his body after New Year’s. His shirt and his skin.
“You have my vote.” Leo’s voice grew husky with her nearness. She had such an impact on him. His attempt to ignore these feelings, to brush them aside, was failing. Gwen took a step back and a look of…discomfort flashed over her face.
“You’re uncomfortable around me now. Is it because of what happened?”
“New Year’s Eve?” Gwen pasted an isn’t-that-silly smile onto her face and patted her hair. “No. Not a bit. We discussed New Year’s Eve and we agreed it was a blip, a nothing. Best to pretend that night never happened.”
“That’s not exactly how I remember the conversation.” Leo took two steps closer and she didn’t back away, didn’t turn. Instead, the pulse in her neck fluttered. “As I recall, I thought our chemistry should be investigated further.” Gwen’s tongue darted over her lower lip. “You,” Leo nodded toward Gwen, “declined.”