Brandon ordered her swordfish, something she’d never tried before, while choosing steak for himself. There was something very visceral and inherently attractive about seeing him tear into the meat with knife and fork. The muscles of his forearms danced as he brought the pieces to his mouth, almost as if the meal were a release for his pent up desire for her. As dinner progressed, Sandra found herself much more at ease with the magnificent man across the table. Her nerves had gone away. That flirty give-and-take from their first date was back. Brandon had a sarcastic humor that she’d come to appreciate, and Sandra learned he’d been all over the world. She would name a country. He would have a story. He was still coy about his occupation, but Sandra suspected that was because he didn’t want to bore her with mundane details—especially considering all she’d told him about Henry. There were not many men with whom Sandra could talk to at length. In fact, there were not many people she could talk to for hours.
