Sonya sighed inwardly. Perhaps if there were, his eyes would stand out a bit more. As it was, there wasn’t much to be said about them. On a good day they were close enough to be considered being blue, but were mostly on the greyish side. Which, with the help of the thick lenses, only magnified the dullness in their depths.
“You really are a lost cause,” she told him, shaking her head. “Having a girl in your apartment shouldn’t have you thinking about running for the safety of your closet.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” he said, though she detected a trace of insult as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
She sighed. Though he was a real nice guy, she didn’t doubt he was very lonely. What he needed was to find himself an equally nice girl and settle down. Not that Sonya advocated marriage. It was her opinion that the majority of people just shouldn’t get married. She most definitely being one of them. But for some, there was this curious need for it. And Sonya was certain that Daniel fell into this group.
However, with his nose grounded to the inside of a computer lab twenty-four-seven, she didn’t see any chance of that happening. If Sonya’s life weren’t so full as it were, she would take on the task of transforming the computer nerd into a heartthrob and snatching him a wife.
Or, for that matter, any girl.
It wasn’t healthy for a man to go for so long without some form of interaction with members of the opposite sex. However, one look at Daniel and Sonya simply didn’t have that kind of time.
“Help me out here, will ya?” she said, showing him her backside and changing the topic. One thing she hated, was her ability to unintentionally hurt his feelings.
Behind her, Daniel watched as Sonya lifted a heavy curtain of long dark curls and in the process gave him a full and uninhibited view of her backside. The smoothness of her exposed back and the lack of a bra had him sighing inwardly.
She was undeniably the sexiest creature he had ever observed, and his fingers ached to reach out and stroke her velvet skin. But a portion of his brain also wanted to demand she turn around and put on the missing garment.
When asked an hour earlier if she should wear the provocative little red dress or the equally sexy but with a higher degree of material blue dress, he instantly chose the latter. Not that he was a prude.
As a matter-of-fact, he definitely preferred the red dress and the way it clung to her female curves and arched to her delightful bottom. The lack of a bra very evident through the thin material of her dress, only made his groin ache. And it was for this reason that had him vexed.
He knew damn well it was for the benefit of Tristan Manning, the owner of the bar where she was headed for a job interview. She started crooning for the guy ever since she began frequenting his establishment. Why this Tristan person never asked her out, was a complete mystery to Daniel.
Sonya Elliott was the perfect male fantasy. Not only was she tall with a sinfully perfect body, but also had the face of a goddess. The word conservative did not describe Sonya.
Nor did shy. As evidenced now as he hooked a finger and pulled on the zipper to exam the damage, and in the process exposed a wonderfully curved backside where it dipped below her panty line. His eyes filled with the sight of her before letting the zipper go and having the panties snap back into place.
“Come on in.” He turned around and walked back into his apartment, controlling his male urge at the snatched look.
“So what has changing my mind about the dress got to do with my—what did you call it—connection to the universal system of proportion?”
“Propulsion,” he corrected. “The act of moving forward.”
“Whatever.”
“Well, without propulsion our universe would cease to exist. As humans, we have an inherent ability to be able to zap into this system when confronted with conflict. The greater that ability, the greater the connection with the universe.”
When he received no response, he looked over his shoulder and caught her eyes looking distant. His shoulders drooped as he quickly turned away. Retrieving his line of thought, he decided to try a different approach. “As humans, we are naturally motivated by conflict. It is a vital element of evolution. Without it, we are unable to move forward. Progress.”
“Oh-kay.”
“Therefore, no matter how much one may want to resist change, it is fundamentally conducive to growth.”
“Yes, well, I am certainly getting a lot of resistance here.” She yanked on her zipper, reminding him of her reason for being there.
“Ah, yes, resistance. The opposition or defiance of propulsion. Or in this case obstruction.”
“Daniel, please,” she groaned and motioned to her backside once again. “Could you help me out here?”
“Right.” He grimaced and turned his attention back to rummaging through some cupboards. It was a bad habit of his to dribble useless information whenever he got nervous. And women made him nervous. Especially beautiful women. And Sonya Elliott was as beautiful as they came.
“Do you think you can free it?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, then muttered under his breath, “You won’t keep your precious Tristan waiting.”
Though she must have heard for she smirked and gestured to her attire. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“I’m sure.”
Sonya noticed he didn’t even bother glancing her way as he began pulling kitchen drawers out and searching for something.
She sighed with the smallest trace of disappointment. He wasn’t being very reassuring. She didn’t know why, but Tristan Manning got under her skin. Maybe it was because he was the only man she wanted and wasn’t able to snare. Two months now and all she could manage to gain from him was a wink now and then.
It frustrated her and, no doubt, made her infatuation with him stronger. If it were the last thing she did she would have that man groveling at her feet and, smiling smugly, possibly with his head between her—
“—panties?”
Sonya blinked. “What?”
Daniel held up a pair of scissors and asked, “I asked if you were keen on keeping those panties?”
“Oh. Well, actually, if at all possible,” she admitted with a wry grin. “I found them in a specialty shop in North York which, unfortunately, has since gone out of business.”
“Ah,” he said, adding sarcastically, “Don’t want to go to the interview without your lucky underwear.”
She gave a humorous snort. “Hardly. But you never know. Maybe after today—”
“No job is that important.”
“Oh, but this one is.” Her brows puckered as she pleaded for understanding. “His bar is about the only one in town that uses a live band instead of a DJ. This could finally be the break I need.”
“Did he promise you a chance to perform?” His words and tone of voice reminded her of a reprimanding father. She didn’t like it one bit. It had been a long time since she bothered to listen to anything her father had to say. Or ever would. Particularly on the subject of commitment.
Turning her back on him, she held out the zipper. “Can we get this over with? I’m going to be late.”
Daniel sighed again before moving to stand behind her. He allowed his eyes to slide beneath her lace panties where his hands were not allowed to go, and groaned inwardly before snatching the zipper between his fingers and snipping the lacy material free from its teeth.
She yelped and spun around, her eyes huge with anger. “Why did you do that?”
“Believe it or not, conflict is actually a positive addition to our lives. It acts as a reaction mass and induces our survival hormones to be released which in turn creates adrenaline to pump—”
“Daniel!”
He offered her a careless shrug. “Didn’t want to be blamed for dousing your adrenaline.”
“Ass,” she muttered, clutching the torn garment behind her lovely backside and marched out of his apartment.
Grinning, he turned back into his apartment
to the unfinished computer program he abandoned earlier to answer the door. He dropped onto the stool in front of the computer and stared at the monitor blankly. He had to surf his memory to try and recall where he had left off, which was no easy task considering his mind was completely absorbed with the image of a smooth and rounded, and very female bottom.
End of Excerpt
About the Author
Peggy Ann Craig is a writer of historical and contemporary romances. She loves old fashion romances mingled with a touch of mystery and/or humor. When she is not in front of her keyboard, she can be found behind her camera or hanging out with her barnyard critters. To learn more about her, please visit her website at http://www.peggyanncraig.com.
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Other books by this author
Please visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by Peggy Ann Craig:
On the Mountain
The Color of Ivy
Princess and the Ox
Misunderstood (In Love with the Nerd)
Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge Page 19