Her clingy striped shirt kept riding up—and her pants. Why in the world had she worn black? Every speck of lint showed. Alec pounded again on the door of his brother’s Manhattan apartment and that didn’t exactly help her relax either. His relaxed jeans and rumpled plaid shirt looked out of place among the ostentatious carpeting and wainscoted walls of the exclusive building. It didn’t matter. He carried himself with such confidence he belonged wherever he went. Now she had to figure out where she belonged. She’d been powerless to deny her desire for Alec earlier. Even now a constant hum of sexual awareness coursed through her. A scintillating thought of Rook, an indulgent look at Alec and the hum intensified. The connection that existed was something so elemental to her being just the thought of denying herself either of them actually caused pain to radiate through her body. Their hands bumped and she slipped her fingers between his effortlessly, as if they were meant to be there.
