Free A Glimpse of Fire by Debbi Rawlins Page B

to Miami. Eric gestured for her to enter the lobby.
    She blinked at him in surprise. “You live here?”
    Nodding, he led her to the elevator.
    “Nice.”
    He smiled. “Too bad the lobby’s bigger than my entire apartment.”
    “So is mine, but at least you have a doorman and an elevator.”
    “You have a walk-up?”
    “It is now. The elevator broke and they won’t repair it.”
    “Wow!” He frowned at her. Surely she could afford something better.
    “Why are you surprised? It’s great exercise. And certainly more affordable.”
    The elevator door opened, they both stepped inside and he punched the button for the fifth floor. “But having a doorman is more secure.”
    “True, but fortunately we haven’t had any problems.”
    “We?”
    She looked hesitant and his heart plummeted. “I have a roommate.”
    “Ah.” He waited for her to drop the bomb.
    “Her name’s Wendy.”
    “Oh.” He didn’t even bother to hide his relief.
    “Did you think—” She squinted at him. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I were living with someone or—heaven forbid—married.”
    “Unfortunately not everyone shares your conviction. What do you have against marriage?”
    “Nothing.”
    They got to his apartment and he dug in his pocket for his keys. “That’s not what it sounded like.”
    “I know, but I only meant that getting married is the ultimate commitment. Not something I would take lightly.” She shrugged, glanced briefly at him. “Nor is it on my ‘to do’ list. Not soon, anyway.”
    “I understand.” That pretty much summed up his feelings, too. He opened the door. “Jeez, I hope it’s clean. I haven’t paid much attention lately,” he said with a perfectly straight face. “I have a woman who comes in once a week—unfortunately that isn’t until tomorrow.” That part was true.
    Dallas walked in and looked around. “You don’t need her. This place is cleaner than mine.” She gave him a smile that suggested she knew he’d spent an hour picking up his crap and scrubbing the bathroom just before meeting her.
    “I’m not here much. I work pretty long hours. Make yourself at home.”
    “This is really nice.” She trailed her hand along the back of the tan Italian-leather couch he’d spent way too much money for. “Did you decorate it yourself?”
    “No, not exactly. But I did pick out the furniture.” Ashley, a woman Judy had tried to fix him up with, had done most of the decorating. Not at his request. She’d insisted. He’d seen her occasionally for about three months. Great sex. Lousy conversation. Their split was mutual.
    “I really like this.” Dallas crouched to study the oval glass coffee table with a black iron base that was supported by four wrought-iron legs in the shape of elephant tusks. “Very unusual.”
    “Yeah, it grabbed me. Hey, about dinner—I’m sorry about the delay. But I have some mixed nuts, if you’re interested.” He stepped into the small kitchen where he kept several bottles of wine, a bottle of scotch, a can of nuts, a jar of peanut butter and little else.
    A brown-and-cream-colored granite-top counter separated the living room from the kitchen. Since there was no dining room area, he’d meant to get a couple of bar stools so the counter could be used as a table—as it had probably been intended—but he hadn’t gotten around to it. He never entertained and rarely ate at home, except for maybe cheese and crackers while he sat in front of the television and watched a ball game.
    “And wine. You like white, right?” He got out a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator. When he turned around, he found that she’d moved to the counter and, with her forearms resting on the granite, leaned toward him.
    His mouth went dry and he exhaled slowly. Her neckline gaped enough to give him an excellent view of the tops of her breasts. He knew she wore a bra, but it had to be really low cut, because another inch and he’d be able to see the rosy