It was going to take some serious mental gear-shifting for her real name to sink in. If he hadn’t thought about her over the years, it might’ve been different. But that night on the beach had turned into more than a simple one-time hookup. Should’ve been nothing more, he knew. He’d had his share of them. Went with the lifestyle. In his sphere, chicks loved surfers. And if a guy was lucky enough to make money at it, the women seemed all the more willing. “Were you transferred?” he asked, steeling himself against the fathomless depths of her blue eyes. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again.She blinked. “What?”“Your job was in Chicago. Now you’re moving to New York.”“Oh, yes, I mean no.” She wrinkled her nose, something she seemed to do when she was frustrated with herself. He liked it. “I wasn’t transferred. I quit.”“Yeah? What kind of job was it?”“Accounting.”He hadn’t seen that coming. Sticking her behind a desk seemed like a huge waste. With her long blond hair and big innocent blue eyes, she was a stunner.
