her throat. Taking a deep breath and wondering what the hell he should do with her now, he pushed back from the desk.
He turned toward the doorway and his jaw went slack. His mouth opened. Nothing came out.
“You like?” she asked, skimming her hands down the sides of a red dress that fit like a second skin. Her long thick hair was down. Dark and glossy with chestnut-colored streaks, it reached just past her shoulders.
She had put on makeup, not a lot, but enough to accentuate her eyes and cheekbones. Before she was pretty; now she was a stunner.
“Mike?” Worry lines formed between her brows.
“Um…” He had to say something eventually—when his mouth worked. Instead, he made the mistake of checking out her dress again. Made of some type of stretchy material, it left no doubt where every curve started and ended. The neckline wasn’t too low, but Gina’s breasts were so full that…
“You’re not going out like that.”
She frowned, her red-tinted lips forming that sexy pout again. “Why not?”
“Why not?” His gaze automatically ran down her body. If her dress was two inches shorter… “Because women don’t dress like that here.” Most of them couldn’t get away with it—and look that good.
“Yes, they do.”
“Not in the daytime.”
Gina folded her arms across her chest, pushing everything into the right place, and Mike had to look away quickly. “I have seen them.”
“You’ve been to New York before?”
She shook her head. “I have seen Sex and the City. Twice. At my friend Lucia’s house.”
“Sex and the City?”
“On the television. It is—”
He sighed. “I know what it is, Gina. But women don’t really— What?”
“That is the first time you said my name.” Her lips curved in a smile that made his chest tighten. “I like very much the way you say it. Please, say it again.”
“Don’t try to distract me.”
She blinked, confusion clouding her eyes. “I do not understand.”
How was he going to explain? Admit that just looking at her gave him a hard-on? Thank God he was already sitting down. He grabbed the edge of the desktop and pulled the chair and himself closer to the desk.
He forced his thoughts back to last Sunday at the grocery store when he’d splattered a ripe juicy plum at the feet of a pretty blond shopper. Recalling the embarrassment of her shocked scream and accusing eyes barely did the trick. He was still pretty damn hard. At least he had the desk for protection.
“Ah, I understand,” Gina said after a discomfiting silence. “Distract. It means I take you off the subject.” She looked pleased. “I do that?”
He groaned. “You have to change your clothes.”
Her eyes got dark and wounded. “Because I look fat.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “No, trust me, you do not look fat.”
She shrunk back, her shoulders hunching forward, and then hugged herself.
“Come on, Gina, you look terrific.” He started to get up and thought better of it. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
Guarded pleasure lightened her eyes. “You say that not to hurt my feelings.”
“Wrong, and you know it.”
She blinked a couple of times, fret drawing her brows together and doubt so plain in her face, that he got it. She really didn’t know that she was a stone fox, built like a brick house, the object of men’s fantasies.
Unbelievable! She had no friggin’ idea. Not a clue. She really had been sheltered. Probably had worn a conservative schoolgirl uniform most of her life. This was all experimentation to her.
But heart failure for him. “The reason I want you to change has nothing to do with how you look. I’m worried about what your uncle will say.”
Defiance flashed in her face. “I am doing nothing wrong.”
“No, you aren’t. But would he approve?”
She sighed heavily and paced to the window.
Mike clenched his jaw. He hadn’t seen the back of her until now. Or had gotten down far enough to notice how the black spike heels made her legs look longer and shapely. That wasn’t even the best part. She had the most perfect rear end known to man. He tried to look away. He couldn’t.
She stared out the window long enough for him to give himself a thorough mental shake, and then she undid his hard work by turning around and meeting his eyes. “I do not want to displease my uncle, or my mother. That is not my intention.” She shoved her fingers through her hair, letting the thick strands fall in a curtain of silk. “I am just trying to have fun, to be like other girls, to enjoy life before…”
She pressed her lips together and turned back toward the window. “You are very kind to worry, Mike, but how I dress is not your problem.”
The hell it wasn’t. He was going to get fired over this. All the accurate forecasts and tight budgets he’d produced weren’t going to mean squat to Antonio if he thought Mike wasn’t doing right by his niece.
In the back of his mind, Mike recalled how Antonio liked to play up his Italian heritage, make references that he was related to a godfather in Sicily. Some of the guys at the warehouse chuckled about it behind his back. But maybe it wasn’t a joke. Maybe he’d have someone whack Mike and make it look like an accident.
“Look, Gina, since I’m your guardian…”
Her eyes blazed.
“I mean, escort, while you’re in New York, I kind of am responsible.”
She smoothed her palm over her hip and down her thigh. His gaze helplessly followed. “I am not a child.”
“No, you definitely aren’t.” He swallowed, cleared his throat. “Will you excuse me a moment?”
He had to talk to Robert. This arrangement was not going to work. No way. Not without Mike ending up with his butt in a sling.
Gina stood there looking uncertain, and Mike realized she was waiting for him to get up and leave. That could be a problem, yet he couldn’t very well make the call in front of her. He shifted in hopes of loosening his pants.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, moving toward him.
“No.” He shot off the chair. “Nothing. I need to go make a phone call.”
She followed him out to the hall.
“In private.”
Her eyes narrowed and she drew her lower lip into her mouth. “Is it about me?”
Mike hesitated, fascinated with the new contortion of her lips. “Sort of.”
She stepped closer. “What have I done?”
All she had to do was glance down at his fly and she’d know exactly what she’d done. He backed up toward the living room. “Nothing. I have to go.”
She followed. “But, Mike…”
Thinking he heard something, he held up a hand for silence.
“But I—”
“Wait! Did you hear that?”
She stopped short and listened.
A click broke the silence.
“The door.” Mike cursed under his breath. “It’s your uncle.”