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  “Well, yeah,” I capitulated. I did. I also dreamed about him. Every now and then, I’d find myself daydreaming about what it’d be like to fall asleep in his arms or wake up to him. I wondered what his place looked like and whether he had a girlfriend or wife.

  “So talk to him.”

  “And say what?”

  “Anything. Tell him you like his name. Tell him you want him to hunt you.”

  I laughed. There was no way I was doing that.

  But the following week, just as he passed my desk, something came over me.

  I blurted, “So what do you hunt, Hunter?”

  Immediately I blushed. With any luck, he didn’t hear it. But he stopped, picked up my paperweight and held it in his hands. It seemed so forward that he felt right at home touching one of my possessions.

  “That depends,” he said, smiling.

  “On?”

  “What’s available?”

  “Oh,” I said, then followed it with a nervous giggle.

  I thought he’d leave and our interaction would be over and I could go back to my private world to analyze every detail of what he’d said. I was not used to men flirting. I was pretty sure he had been. Instead, he stayed by my desk, eyeing me. It was like he was scanning my other stationery, looking for something to hold.

  “What are you doing on Friday night?” he asked.

  “Me? I have no plans.” Other than filing my nails.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Holy moly. This was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not in my life. Sure, Hunter was no Brad Pitt, but I preferred the Patton Oswalts anyway.

  “Yes,” I said. “That would be nice. It’ll be my first here in Boston.”

  “Your first dinner? I don’t believe that.”

  I thought he was trying to trip me up with that comment. It took me a moment to realize he was joking around with me. Everything was in slow motion because I was nervous.

  “My first date,” I said. “I mean, if that’s what it is. A date, I mean.”

  He put the paperweight down again and tilted his head to one side like he couldn’t understand what I said. “A pretty gal like you? First date? Really?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh. I guess I should have asked you out when I first wanted to. You caught my eye right away when you started.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. And it’s been what? Three months now?”

  “Four and a half.”

  “I better snatch you up before anyone else tries to,” he said. “So, Friday. How about I pick you up around seven?”

  “Sure.” I was aflutter at the idea of being snatched up.

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  About the Author

  Romance heroines have saved my sanity numerous times through break-ups and life changes. I find escaping into a romance both soothing and revitalizing—and even better when there are some steamy scenes to tantalize the imagination.

  For most of my adult life, I’ve concentrated on carving out a serious career, but a number of love-hungry, sassy characters keep taking over my mind, insisting that I daydream, live vicariously through them and tell their stories. Watching these women emerge on the page gives me a different sort of satisfaction than I get from my day job. It is a joy to share them with readers.

  I live in a tiny apartment in a crowded city and I like to think there is something romantic about this. I did manage to find my soul mate here.

  Email: [email protected]

  Destiny loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Destiny Moon

  All I Ever Wanted

  Worth the Wait

  A Tale of Two Hotties

  Perfect on Paper

  Love Uninhibited