Aria ran her fingers along the wall, found the switch and flicked the lights on, then blinked until her eyes readjusted. She was not prepared for the sight that greeted her. Elijah Lockwood, CEO of Lockwood Holdings Limited, stood before her wearing blue flannel pajamas, his tousled hair hanging over his forehead. Despite his pajamas, he managed to look quite forbidding. If Aria had been sensible, or even had some instincts of self-preservation, she would have apologized and excused herself. But she’d never been accused of being sensible. So, instead, she burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, advancing until only a foot of air separated them. At another time, she might have found it intimidating. Now, not so much. “You’ve barged into my house at some ridiculous hour of the morning. You’d better have a good reason for it.”

Aria wished she could take him seriously—really, she did—but it was impossible. Eventually, she forced herself to stop laughing and take a few deep breaths. Then, once the hilarity had faded, she was struck by a different thought. Elijah filled out those pajamas very well. And he was so close. She hadn’t taken much notice when he pressed up against her on Friday night, but his wide shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and muscular thighs. The top two buttons of the pajamas were undone, exposing a light dusting of hair across his chest. She gulped and fought the desire to run her hands up his body to see whether it was as firm as it looked.

Not appropriate, Ri!

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t know you’d be asleep. Most people would be up by now.”

“It doesn’t pay to make assumptions,” he rumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

The movement lifted the bottom of his top, giving her a glimpse of his stomach. Aria’s mouth watered. If only he would stretch a little more, so she could tell if his torso was as toned as she suspected.

“Miss Simons.”

Aria tore her gaze away from the exposed skin and saw his knowing smile. Too smug. He knew exactly where she’d been looking, blast it all.

“Why are you here?”

His expression held a hint of interest. Was it possible she affected him in the same way he affected her? She studied his face for symptoms of attraction. Nope. Nothing. Nada.

“Miss Simons.” Frustration laced his voice, but she thought she detected a flicker of amusement in his icy eyes, a slight softening of the lines around his mouth.

“Aria,” she said. She hated being called Miss Simons. It made her feel like a school teacher.

“Aria,” he corrected himself. “You should know my sense of humor isn’t the best in the morning. Tell me why you’re here, or I’ll have to pick you up and throw you out.”