"And what is it that impresses you?" Winn asked.
Sharona's lips parted into a smile as she rose gracefully from the chair. She moved with calculated confidence, the sway of her hips designed to make a man wonder if this was what power looked like. Winn swiveled slightly in his chair, his body angled toward her, tracking her movements with the cool, predatory interest of a man who never allowed himself to be cornered.
She leaned down, invading his space in a way most wouldn't dare. "Let's just say, it's rare to find a man this successful and this good-looking." She straightened with a sharp adjustment of her blouse.
"See you on Friday. 8 p.m.," she declared with the assurance of a woman used to having men follow her lead.
Winn didn't give her the satisfaction of more than a flat: "Friday is not going to work."
Sharona tilted her head, assessing him. "Sweetie, if you show up on Friday, then I know this 'thing' isn't a one-way street."
