Free Wolf at the Door by MaryJanice Davidson

quite the bitch about it.”
    “Rachael! Nuh-uh!”
    “Don’t listen to him,” she told the bemused waitress. “He’s madly in lust. But I do apologize. Although I have to warn you, all the food you bring us had better be spectacular.”
    “Don’t make her angry. You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry.”
    “You shush.”
    They ordered, the waitress left, and when Rachael gave him the full force of her dark gaze, he knew that if he never saw her again after that night, he would always, always think of her.
    “A retired man of leisure . . . how nice for you. What are you, really?”
    Good question. Sidekick? Besotted date? IT guy? Tourist? Vamp stalker? All of the above? None of the above?
    “I took a leave of absence from Grate and Tate—”
    “Not the Boston firm!”
    “Uh, yeah.” He mentally braced himself for, Oh. You’re an accountant? Um. How exciting. No, really. Um, I think the diarrhea’s coming back so let’s just hang it up for tonight, okay?
    “I’m an accountant, too!
    He instantly rewrote the dialogue in his head: I think accountants are the hottest thing on the planet! I continually fantasize about being spanked by an accountant! I wish you would spank me while filing my tax return! Mmmm . . . Mama likey . . .
    “Are you all right?” she asked.
    Go away, boner! No one hit your buzzer. “Oh, fine. I’m fine.”
    “You’re between jobs?” she asked with genuine interest (he was pretty sure).
    “No, but I’ve been working since I was sixteen, Grate and Tate pay well and have super bennies, and I have no life, so I’ve got five figures in savings. I was able to take a leave of absence.”
    “Hard to believe.”
    “I’m frugal, baby.”
    “I meant about having no life. You seem quite lively to me ,” she teased.
    He could feel the blood rush to his face. “Thanks.” Then he cleared his throat to try to cover for his hot face and said, “So what are you gonna get?”
    “Laid, I hope,” she said, and that was when he spilled his water all over himself.

Fourteen
     
    He was fumbling with the key card and dropped it and she snatched it up and then she dropped it (most likely because his hands were pretty busy under her dress) and somehow they managed to get the damned hotel room unlocked and fell inside.
    His hands were everywhere, his mouth was on hers; he was groaning and so was she. She yanked and heard his pants rip.
    Careful. Careful.
    So far, quite the successful first date. Hmm. I guess I’m that kind of girl now. The kind who ruthlessly seduces on a first date. Edward never had a chance . . . not that he seems to mind.
    No, he didn’t seem to mind.
    They had spent the evening gorging on the most overpriced seafood she’d ever had, and it was worth every penny.
    The halibut: buttery and tender and flaky. His chowder (which he kindly let her taste and, when she liked it, he insisted she finish his bowl while he ordered another for himself): thick and creamy and studded with plump clams. Her seafood tower (yes! A seafood tower , what a wonderful thing!): shrimp so perfectly chilled they were bursting with plump meaty flavor, clams and mussels so fresh she could smell the ocean on them. Her second order of raw oysters: sweet and briny and luscious at the same time, and well over a dozen went down her throat.
    And all the while, they played the seduction game.
    “You’re still using the Sage program?” Edward asked, incredulous. “Do you drive around in a covered wagon, too?”
    “It’s perfect for my needs,” she insisted. “You won’t get me to back down this time, Edward. Though I grudgingly admit you were right about the updates—keeping track of the fundraising can be difficult without it. But I need something that’ll serve organizations of different sizes. Besides, Sage is compatible with Windows and Linux and Unix.”
    “But it—”
    “Plus I need to manage finances for all sorts of locations; I did that back on the Cape and I want to continue doing