Free Desire by Design by Paula Altenburg

my life the way it is.”
    “Huh,” Matt said thoughtfully, giving her the distinct impression she’d just disappointed him somehow.
    If so, she refused to feel sorry about it. Rebellion kicked in. She was tired of being viewed as a disappointment to others. Didn’t anyone ever care that, just maybe, she might be disappointed in them?
    …
    Matt couldn’t come up with the right word to describe the swarm of emotions Eve elicited from him.
    Confusion, possibly. Irritation, undoubtedly. But it was the view of those short-shorts, tanned legs, and glittery, pink-tipped toenails that had him once more wanting to kiss her.
    The silence grew so loud he could hear the ticking of his wristwatch. Until today, he hadn’t even known it made any noise.
    “Why don’t you let me see some of those ideas of yours?” he suggested, changing the topic.
    Her eyes widened. “You mean, right now?”
    Matt shrugged. “Why not?”
    She disappeared with a swish of her ponytail and a flurry of those tempting bare limbs and reappeared moments later, tottering under a stack of papers that required the weight of her chin to keep them from toppling over.
    “Here’s the first of them.” She dumped the papers in his lap. Then, palming a letter opener off a small escritoire, she settled back in her chair and began sorting through a mound of mail, methodically slicing open each envelope. Matt placed a protective hand over his throat.
    She paused, the letter opener poised in mid-air, sunlight glinting off its pewter blade. “Something wrong?”
    Matt forced his hand away from his throat and picked up the top file. “No, of course not.”
    “I’ll try not to disturb you,” she said.
    Too late. She’d already disturbed him. Just not in the way she might think.
    In spite of that, it wasn’t long before he became totally absorbed in the papers in front of him. She was good, he conceded, adding the file he’d just finished to the growing stack on the floor at his feet. Given the proper education and training, she could be great. He stretched the kinks out of limbs stiffened from too much time spent in one position.
    Why didn’t she do more with her talent?
    He started to ask her, then realized she was sound asleep, curled up in the overstuffed chair. The sun no longer shone through the front window, and his stomach told him it was getting close to lunchtime, but she looked so adorable curled up with her hands under her cheek and her tanned knees against her chest that Matt was in no hurry to leave.
    She gave a soft sigh, a frown crinkling her delicate brow. The position she was in couldn’t be comfortable, yet the shadows under her eyes told him how badly she needed the rest. A tiny knot twisted in Matt’s stomach. Could he move her without waking her?
    The trill of the phone shattered the quiet. Eve, however, didn’t twitch a muscle, which answered Matt’s question—he could tap dance beside her, and it wasn’t likely to wake her.
    The phone persisted, and he debated whether or not he should answer it since she hadn’t seemed to want him to before. Then he decided to wait until the answering machine picked up. If it sounded like an emergency, he’d wake her. He glanced doubtfully at her sleeping form. Well, he’d try.
    When the machine finally kicked in, however, the caller hung up—then the phone began to ring again almost immediately. Matt listened to this cycle twice more before deciding to answer and put an end to it.
    “Hello?” he said, speaking softly even though it seemed unlikely that anything short of dynamite could accomplish disturbing Eve’s nap.
    There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line. “Who is this?” a low, male voice demanded. The hair on the back of Matt’s neck stood up at the frigid tone of the man’s simple words.
    “Who is this ?” he countered. His eyes darted to Eve, still asleep in her chair.
    The line went dead then, and Matt stared at the receiver in his hand for a few brief