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“He might be off balance and afraid to make a move if he thinks you’re sexually experienced and he’s not. Can you pretend to be a virgin?” Audrey sounded amused at the thought.
“Har de har. I just need to think about it.”
“About pretending to be a virgin?”
“No. About leveling the playing field.” And somehow getting Hunter to forget that she’d seen him in the natural state.
“Good luck, whatever you do.”
Gretchen hung up the phone and chewed on her lip. She looked into the mirror and played with her wet hair, still dripping from the shower. Dress sexy? Nah. She didn’t have the right equipment. It was like Audrey said: Hunter would be off balance around her and continue to be off balance unless she did something to “level the playing field” as her sister had claimed. So that was what she needed to do—get them on equal ground. Somehow. She’d seen him naked, though.
An impulsive idea flashed through her mind and she immediately shut it down, hugging her robe closed. He’d run for sure if she did that.
There was a knock at her door.
Gretchen adjusted the belt on her robe and went to the door, but didn’t open it. “Who is it?”
“I . . . me. Hunter. Buchanan.”
As if there would be a dozen other Hunters at her door. Biting back her smile, Gretchen opened the door and glanced out at him. “Hi there.”
He was dressed in a black suit, a black shirt underneath, and a dark gray tie. His hair was impeccably smoothed into a part and he carried sunglasses in his hand. Behind him, a large man easily seven feet tall stood behind him, dressed in equally dark clothing and wearing his sunglasses. Gretchen had never seen him, and alarm immediately rose. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Hunter said. He glanced backward at the man behind him and gave a brief nod. “Leave us.”
The man nodded and headed down the hall, his back to them. Gretchen peered out the door, watching him. Then she looked at Hunter. “Who’s that?” she whispered.
“My bodyguard.”
“I see. So you’re ditching me tonight?”
Two spots of color flushed in his pale cheeks. “That’s not what I . . . that is, I—”
“I guessed it as soon as I saw the suit. Though I admit, you do clean up nice. I’m a little sad the suit isn’t for me.” Not that she’d ever seen him wear anything but suits, but her flirty words seemed to be working. He was definitely blushing.
His gaze moved, darting about the room, looking anywhere but at her. “I came to give you my apologies. I can’t make it to dinner tonight. A business meeting was scheduled and I find that I cannot move it.”
“No worries.” Gretchen twirled one of the ends of her robe. “Thanks for letting me know, though.”
He shifted on his feet, and then tugged at his collar, seemingly more uncomfortable by the moment. “I would, however, like if we were to meet for dinner tomorrow night instead.”
“Tomorrow’s fine.”
“Good.” His voice was curt. “Very good. Good. That’s . . .”
“Good?” she offered. He was adorable.
He gave her another scathing look, but Gretchen only smiled. She was starting to realize his defense mechanisms. God, why had she not seen this before? Suddenly it was so obvious . . . and so sexy that she drove him so crazy.
She took a step forward, wanting to tease him a little. “May I?” She gestured at his tie.
He looked down at it, frowning.
“It’s crooked,” she lied, moving forward and pretending to adjust the tie. It was more or less an excuse to move into his arms and see how he’d react.
He stiffened, but didn’t move away.
She took that as an encouraging sign and continued to adjust his tie. Then she smoothed a hand down the front of it, noting the hard muscle underneath. “All better.”
