A slow, lazy smile spread across his face the moment Jim Evans saw Amanda Channing step out of the cab. He knew he looked like an idiot, but Amanda had that effect on him. Her legs came into view first, long and shapely, visible through the cut of her blue satin evening gown. Next her slender arms, shown to their best advantage by the beading at the top of the dress. Now her face, sculpted by angels, framed with sleek blonde hair, bobbed and sophisticated. The fur shawl draped over pale shoulders was her only concession to the chilly October night. She stood beneath a streetlight, illuminated like an actress on stage.
Jim quickened his pace with a silent curse. Rather than waiting for Amanda on the corner as he’d promised, there had been a delay at the office. The meeting with his father and uncle had lasted an eternity. When he realized he would be late for his rendezvous, Jim had rushed through the last few items, scrawling his signature on papers he hadn’t bothered to read, before racing the few blocks from his office to the nightclub. Continue reading