Maverick (Silhouette Desire #1827)

All things considered, she was a traffic stopper.Tanner raised a questioning eyebrow at the breathtaking woman standing beyond the threshold of the apartment door he had just opened at the buzz of the doorbell."Mr. Wolfe?"A tingle attacked the base of Tanner's spine. Her voice had the effect of warm honey trickling down the length of his back. Her eyes were the color of brandy, her hair a rich, deep, glossy burgundy wine. Combined, they warmed him as if he'd imbibed the drinks themselves."Yes." He was rather proud of the steady, almost bored sound of his voice, when bored was the last thing he was feeling. Hot, yes. Bored, no. He lifted one brow. She stood there, all five foot nine or so, slim and classically beautiful, dressed casually but expensively.One deep, dark eyebrow arched, mirroring his action, as she asked, "May I come in?"The tingle he felt grew into a sizzle. Damn, it had been a long time since a woman had had such a strong effect on him at first meeting. Come to think about it, no woman had ever had this strong an effect on him."Do you have a name?" He injected a droll note into his voice."Brianna Stewart," she answered, extending a slim-fingered hand to him. "Now, may I come in?"Curiousabout the woman's courage in entering the apartment of a stranger and about several other thingshe took her hand, repressed a shiver, then nodded and stepped back, swinging the door wide as he did so."Thank you." Head high, spine straight as an arrow, she walked past him into the neat-as-a-pin living room, her stride relaxed, easy. The late-morning sun's rays slanting through the wide window struck fiery lights off her slightly-redder-than-auburn hair."What can I do for you, Ms. Stewart?" he asked. Other than sweep you up and carry you to my bedroom. Telling himself to grow up, he repressed the errant thought."May I sit down?" She made a graceful move of one hand to indicate his favorite plush leather recliner. "Yeah, sure." What else could he say? "Would you like a cup of coffee?" He wasn't about to impart the information that it was the first pot he'd brewed since rolling out of the sack a half hour before she rang his chimes, so to speak. Hell, his hair was still damp from his shower."I'd like that, yes, thank you." She smiled.He suppressed a groan. As slight and polite as her smile had been, it dazzled his senses. What in blazes was wrong with him? he chided himself. She was just another woman. Okay, another gorgeous woman. Wasn't she?"You're welcome. It'll only take a minute." Avoiding his mental question and telling himself to pull it together, Tanner escaped into the kitchen. Well, he had hoped to escape.She followed him into the room. "I hope you don't mind, but we can talk in here just as well."That's easy for you to say. Keeping the thought to himself, where it belonged, Tanner said, "No, I don't mind. Have a seat." He flicked a hand at the retro yellow-and-white chrome-and-Formica kitchen set. "Would you like something with your coffee...some cookies, a muffin, a scone?" Me?Knock it off, Wolfe.Sliding onto a plastic-covered chair, she started to shake her head but hesitated, saying, "What kind of scones do you have?""Blueberry," he said, removing two diner-type mugs from a wall cabinet. "Yes, I would. Thank you again." She smiled as if amused at herself. "Blueberry is my favorite."Damned if her full-blast smiHohl, Joan is the author of 'Maverick (Silhouette Desire #1827)', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373768271 and ISBN 0373768273.