Free Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) by Andrea Simonne Page A

need to make the most of it!”
    “Not tonight. I want to continue working.”
    “Could we come inside and see some of your art?” Werner glances at her door with interest. “Dagmar has described it to me, and it sounds fascinating.”
    Lindsay’s bullshit detector spikes into the red zone. There’s no way he’s interested in her sculptures. “Sorry, there’s nothing to see right now.”
    “That is too bad.” He’s still eyeing her studio door.
    “I am so glad you two have settled things! See?” Dagmar beams at them both.
    Lindsay wonders what Werner actually told her he said last night, certain it wasn’t the truth.
    “We will talk more later, okay?” Dagmar leans in to hug her good-bye. Lindsay hopes the rat doesn’t try to hug her because he’s going to get a kick in the nuts if he even gets close.
    He doesn’t try and instead gives her a polite smile. Except she doesn’t like that polite smile. Somehow, it makes her more uneasy than all the sleazy ones he’s given her combined.
    That night, Lindsay sleeps with a piece of wood firmly wedged in her door so it can’t be opened from the outside, even with a key. It’s a trick she learned years ago.
    Just a little extra precaution .

By noon the next day, Lindsay’s still in the creative zone, hard at work, a cup of cold coffee by her side. She’s piecing an elaborate beadwork pattern into an outer clay mask and is so involved she doesn’t even notice there’s an Asgardian mountain standing in her open doorway until it speaks.
    “So, you really are an artist.”
    She looks up, an unwanted jolt of pleasure running through her at the sight of Giovanni. “What on Earth are you doing here?”
    He doesn’t reply but walks over the threshold toward her. He’s wearing tan corduroy pants, a gray T-shirt, and brown shoes that appear to be a cross between sneakers and loafers.
    Her eyes linger on his wide shoulders, indulging before they progress downward. He’s big, but not lumbering like some large men she’s known. He moves with sure-footed ease.
    Those muscular thighs are calling her name.
    Unfortunately, she was weak-willed this morning and had another vibrator sex fantasy about him.
    “I thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re the only friend I have in Berlin.”
    “I’m not your friend.”
    “Family, then.”
    She turns back to working on her mask and doesn’t bother hiding her irritation. “I told you to have a great life, remember?”
    “I remember.”
    “So, go away and live it.”
    He ignores her rudeness and comes closer, wandering around the large space near the front windows where she works. “I didn’t even notice all this last night.” He picks up an origami elephant, studies it for a moment, and seems pleased by it. There’s a whole menagerie of origami animals she’s created, lined up like they’re ready to board Noah’s Ark.
    He puts the elephant down and takes in the rest of the space. “This is a real artist’s studio.”
    “Don’t act so surprised. I already told you I’m an artist.” She turns her sculpting table a little to get the angle she needs then locks it in place again.
    “An artist who plays poker.”
    She tries to stay focused on the project at hand, but can’t help her annoyance. “So what? For your information, my sculptures are in galleries internationally. I’ve also had commissions from both the public and private sector.”
    “No need to give me your Curriculum Vitae. I believe you.” Next he wanders over to the wall where two of her masks are hanging and examines the first one. The outer face is a wolf. He lifts the hinge to see the true face is that of a little girl. “These are interesting.”
    She acts nonchalant, but when he doesn’t offer more, can’t resist asking, “Why do you say that?”
    “I like the symbolism. One face for the outer world, one for the inner self.”
    Lindsay nods her approval that he gets it.
    “I’ve always found masks to be fascinating,” he