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But he was here now. Standing in front of her. Real. Unable to help it, she let her gaze roam over Ryder’s chest, down his stomach to his lean hips. When she spoke, her voice came out husky. “I guess that makes sense.”
“It’s practical.” Ryder’s own gaze wandered, hooding when he reached her breasts.
He put his hand on the door frame, right above her head, and it brought him way too close. “So should we meet outside at seven?”
She sucked in a breath, inhaling the masculine, spicy scent of him. She had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”
When he spoke, his words came out low and intimate. “Our date, Sophie. On Friday.”
“Oh.” All she wanted was to step aside and let him in, but she stayed frozen in her spot. “Yes, that works.”
He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Disappointment raged inside her, and she held her breath, waiting for him to slip, to say something very Ryder-like and suggestive.
But he didn’t. He just turned on his heel and walked away.
With shaking hands she closed the door.
He’d taken her at her word. All right then, good.
Things would only get easier from here.
