Free Roped Into Romance by Alison Kent Page B

swiveled from side to side. He kept a grip on both armrests, kept his gaze on the door. It was after hours; the support staff had long since left for the night. But his partner was due any minute. And he wanted to be here to gloat.
    Doug Storey, the second half of Neville and Storey, Architects, had made it his personal mission to wash the firm's hands of the loft property Anton had shown yesterday to Macy Webb and Lauren Hollister. And here, with Doug out of town, Anton had done little more than pour on the masculine charm to make the sale.
    Possible sale, he reminded himself. All the women had done was inspect the property. Twice. But it was the way they'd done their inspection, the decorating plans they made as they walked, the looks they'd tossed back and forth, the whispers and the giggles.
    Anton had been at this business long enough to know when he could sit back and let a property sell itself. But, for the loft, he'd been ready to wheel and deal his ass off.
    Still, this was the first time he'd ever considered offering himself as a sales incentive.
    And he was only half kidding. The other half seriously wondered what would've happened on that balcony had Macy Webb not walked into his tête-à-tête with Lauren Hollister.
    He didn't think he'd ever hovered on the verge of anything so unprofessional in his entire career. Even if she'd made it more than clear she welcomed his attention, he knew better than to mix business with what he knew would be an unimaginable pleasure.
    Lauren Hollister was a willowy thing, with pale baby blue eyes that promised all the tricks of the female trade. Her body was perfect, beautifully lush curves filling out a slender frame. Dark blond waves fell to the center of her back. And, yeah. He could see himself wrapping that silky mane around his wrist and holding on for the ride.
    "Hey, Neville. You make us a million while I was gone?"
    Anton looked up from his musings as his partner walked through the door. The grin that spread over his face felt like the wicked celebration it was. "Close enough. I sold the loft."
    Doug stopped in his tracks, strands of blond hair falling into his face. He shook them back, tossed his satchel to the office sofa, slammed his hands to his hips. "The downtown loft. The fourth floor. The warehouse. Are you friggin' kidding me?"
    Anton shrugged. "Maybe not."
    "Ha!" Doug dropped down on the sofa. "You mean you showed it, not sold it. I'm not paying off any bet until that place goes to closing."
    "They want it. You know the look."
    "Hmm." Squaring an ankle on the opposite knee, Doug laced his hands behind his head and leaned back. "They had it outfitted before they even left, didn't they?
    Curtains, throw pillows, area rugs."
    "Not these two." Anton couldn't get the picture of Lauren Hollister out of his mind. Her low-slung blue jeans. Her black metallic sheer lace top over a skinny black tank.
    "Lava lamp bubble sculptures. Hanging panels of hammered brass."
    "Gay?"
    "Female. Two." Anton held up two fingers.
    "Gay?" Doug repeated.
    "Not these two," Anton repeated, getting to his feet just as his phone rang. He glanced at the display. The number seemed vaguely familiar. He punched the speakerphone button. "Neville."
    "Anton Neville? This is Lauren Hollister. From yesterday? The balcony?"
    Anton jerked the receiver from the cradle, ignoring his partner's arched brow and mouthed, "The balcony?" He flipped Doug the finger and tur ned his attention to the call. "Ms. Hollister. How nice to hear from you."
    "I wasn't sure what time your office closed. I was hoping I might still be able to catch you. Is this a bad time?"
    "No. Don't worry about it. I'm usually here this late." This time when Doug rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Bullshit," Anton turned his back on the other man and leaned against the desk.
    "What can I do for you?"
    "It's about the loft."
    He'd figured that much. And the way she said it he figured it was bad news. "Have you and Ms. Webb reached a