The Law of Desire by Gwyneth Bolton Page B

attitude and start showing a little appreciation.
    He took off down the hall and up the stairs. Just when he was about to knock on her door it opened.
    Gut-punched! That’s what it felt like when he cast his eyes on the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen. And he wasn’t even expecting it.
    Sucking in a big gulp of air, Lawrence felt his eyes bulge and his mouth drop when he caught a glimpse of the woman standing in the door. The two-toned hair was gone and her natural dark brown hair fell just past her shoulder in soft curls that framed her face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, just a hint of lip gloss. And she had on a pair of black wide-leg slacks with cream pinstripes and a silky, sexy cream V-neck tee that accented her cleavage nicely.
    He tried to figure out how she managed to look even sexier in the smart professional clothing than she had in that skin-tight minidress she’d been wearing. And he wondered why she looked so much prettier than any other woman he had ever seen when she clearly wasn’t even trying.
    “Sorry I took so long. After a night in that cell, I felt like I needed to take an extra-long shower and it took a minute to get the hair together after washing those tracks out.” She let her hand pass through her hair and it glided through the softness.
    He wondered what she had had in her hair before besides the weave that had disguised her curls and made her hair seem so stiff. He placed his own arms behind him in an effort to stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through her gorgeous tresses.
    “I’m just glad I feel like my old self again. The long time it took was well worth it. If I never see another Baby Phat or Apple Bottom again, I will have no problem at all.”
    He gulped.
    He knew she was twenty-six years old from the record he pulled. But she looked about twenty-one with her face freshly scrubbed and those glossy brown curls framing her face. She looked too young for his thirty-seven-year-old self. But damn if he cared. When it came to the feelings he found himself having for Minerva, age wasn’t nothing but a number.
    She stared up at him and a self-conscious expression crossed her face. “I know. You probably think I look like a dweeb. But that’s okay. No more multicolored weaves in my head for life.” She scratched her head. “I still feel like I could wash it again.”
    “It looks fine.” Was that him? So…he could talk. And here he thought her beauty had stolen his damn voice.
    “What do you want for dinner? I can fix something,” he managed to grumble in what sounded more like a sputter to his ears.
    Maybe he should have just let her stay in her room all night. He certainly didn’t need this complication. The desirable woman who stepped out of that bedroom made him want to take her back into the room and do all kinds of naughty things to her until she begged him not to stop. He licked his lips and imagined how that lip gloss might taste.
    “How about I cook for us. It’s the least I could do since you’re being so nice and you’re taking your time to help me. I’m pretty good in the kitchen and I could whip something up. Just point the way.”
    “You sure? You don’t look like…I mean, I’m fine with cooking and I’m pretty particular about food…”
    The plastered-on smile she had been wearing dropped and her eyes narrowed. She let out a breath and then bit her lower lip. He could just imagine what words she must be biting back and he would have felt like a heel if he weren’t so busy wondering what it would feel like to be the one nibbling on those pouting lips.
    He placed his finger on his chin as he thought about their situation. She was holding out an olive branch and he had basically grabbed it, thrown it on the ground and stomped on it. And he was lusting after her to boot. He could see that the glint in her eyes hinted that she was thinking about doing him bodily harm.
    “I said I would cook something for us,” she said between