“Sure?”
“Of course I am. I can—” She realized he was teasing her. “Tell me, do I come before or after Erica in your list of women you flirt with to get information?”
He started walking again. “I’ll have to think about that. I’ll bet Erica knows some tricks you don’t.”
“I’m sure she does,” Sara said as she followed him. “But then I am oh, so teachable.”
“Don’t start something you don’t mean to finish,” he said over his shoulder.
Sara couldn’t repress her grin. Sometimes Mike made her feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. Of course she knew that what he was doing was just part of his job, but it still felt good. She and Greg had long ago passed the point where he told her she was beautiful and sexy. In fact, in the last months they seemed to have stopped saying anything that didn’t have to do with the business.
She looked at the back of Mike as he made his way through the weeds. He deftly jumped from one flat place to another, and when he landed, he’d turn and hold out his hand to take hers to steady her for the short leap. She realized that she’d come to depend on him whenever she needed help.
“What’s that look for?” Mike asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking, that’s all.”
“About what you have that Mitzi wants?”
“Oh, right. That. Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking about.”
“Now who’s lying?”
“I learned how from you.”
Chuckling, Mike stepped into the clearing and halted as he looked around.
“If my mother said she’d keep Mr. Lang busy today, she’ll do it.” Sara was beside him. “Did they give you a key to the house at the closing?”
“Yes, but I have no intention of using it.”
“Then how—?”
He gave her a look up and down. “I’m going to love pushing you through a window.”
“And I’m going to enjoy—” She broke off from saying that she looked forward to being pushed, and reminded herself that she was engaged to be married. Just yesterday she’d spent three hours with the wedding planner—and Sara had changed several things. The carnations were gone and roses were in. She knew Greg would be angry, but right now she couldn’t make herself worry about that.
“We’re going in through a window because Lang might have set traps in the doors. And once we get inside, you’re not to touch anything, you understand me? He may have rigged some pretty box with a bear claw—and I don’t mean a pastry.”
“I doubt if—” At Mike’s look, she cut off. “I will touch nothing.”
“Except me,” Mike said without a hint of a smile.
“Right. Got it. Hands only on Mike.” She wasn’t smiling. “Any particular places I’m to touch?”
“Knees would be nice. Start there and work your way up. Slowly.”
Sara laughed. “Go on. You lead, I’ll follow.”
“I’ve always wanted to hear a woman say that.” Turning, he walked across the open area so fast that Sara could hardly keep up with him. Once they were at the house, he made quick work of pushing up a window, then he grabbed the sill and hoisted himself inside. He’s a gymnast, Sara thought. A Tarzan and a gymnast.
When Mike leaned out the window and put his hands out for hers, she didn’t hesitate, and it again occurred to her how much she’d grown to trust him in their short time together.
As he pulled her up, he made what she was sure were several unnecessary touches on her body. When his hand went down her leg, she wanted to make herself glare at him, to remind him that she was engaged to be marri
ed. But she couldn’t. She liked the feeling, and especially liked being touched by a man who had desire in his eyes.
Love and marriage aren’t only about fantastic sex, she reminded herself as Mike released her and began to look about the old farmhouse. There are other things in marriage that are just as important, such as friendship and—She didn’t want to think about that because she and Greg weren’t what she’d call friends, certainly not like she and Mike were. Greg and she were—Mike was staring at her, waiting for her to put her mind back on the current task.