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Max looked down into her confused features, feeling a flash of annoyance at her preoccupied expression. For what he was paying her she would damn well keep her attention firmly focused on him.
“We’re scheduled to acquire my casual wardrobe and then to inspect the townhouse I own.”
“That’s right. The one you don’t know the address of.”
“Didn’t. My lawyer sent a key and the location over to my office late this afternoon.”
“Good,” Jessie said. “Where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up at your apartment. Say, ten o’clock?”
“Ten is fine,” Jessie said as she followed him out of the youth center. By tomorrow she should have regained her sense of equilibrium and would be able to view Max Sheridan as just one more client. At least, she certainly hoped so.
Jessie’s first sight of Max as she emerged from her apartment building the following morning shattered her hopes. He was wearing a pair of worn black jeans that molded his flat hips and muscular thighs like a second skin. After one covetous glance that sent her body temperature skyrocketing, Jessie jerked her gaze up past the black T-shirt stretched across his broad chest to land on his face.
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