Good lord, what was she going to do with him? Better yet, what was he planning to do with her? Based on that text message, she had an idea. Eliot may have been writing about the malaise and hopelessness of World War I, but John Donovan was referring to a totally different peach.

Before she had too much longer to think about it, a commanding knock at her door made her jump in her chair. She glanced at her watch, saw he was fifteen minutes early, and grinned.

“Come in,” she called out.

John stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Time slowed down soon after that. Victoria was suddenly conscious of her own breathing, the grooves in the leather armrests, and her trembling fingers. John leaned against the door and quietly regarded her before speaking. She was pinned beneath his intense stare, unable to open her mouth for a simple greeting. He came dressed different from what she was used to. He wore dark gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with the collar undone by two buttons. Hooked on his arm was a camelhair coat. He was handsome in his jeans and tight-fitting Henley shirt, but this new Sophisticated John took her breath away. As he folded his arms across his chest, a broad smile stretched over his face. “Dr. Reese.”

“Mr. Donovan,” she breathed. “Thank you for coming.”

He pushed away from the door and approached her desk. “Don’t thank me yet.” He slung his coat over the spare chair and took a seat on the edge of her desk, on her right.

Victoria swallowed. “Right.”

She watched as he rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, revealing muscular forearms; one was covered in sandy brown hair, the other covered in tattoos that she still wanted to examine. Both arms were meant for lifting books and women. His physique, while long and lean, appeared powerful enough for bareknuckle boxing. He lounged gracefully against her desk as if he had all day to stare into her eyes. But he didn’t have all day. They were scheduled to part ways in an hour. Since she didn’t know what he would do, or how many times he’d do it, Victoria thought it safe to schedule an hour. “I didn’t get a reply from you,” he said in a silky voice. A wicked smile touched his lips as a satisfied glimmer lit his forest-green eyes.

Panic rioted throughout her entire body while she clenched her thighs. Sexual magnetism radiated from his body, threatening to render her powerless. “I couldn’t think of anything smart to say,” she admitted. When in doubt, just be honest.