“Have you finished painting your face?” he yelled from the living room. “How much stuff do you need to put on there?”

“As much as I want!” Catie had, however, long gotten over her caked-on-is-the-best stage. The photos of her and Laveni’s “glam” looks from their teenage years made her grin now.

Poor Veni, subjected to Catie’s then-questionable skills.

As it was, Catie was also used to being photographed bare-faced—it wasn’t like she wore makeup while running. Some sportspeople liked a bit when competing—Posey, for one, had been all about the mascara and the false eyelashes and she’d rocked it to the point that she was a spokeswoman for a makeup brand.

But Catie stuck with moisturizer that had good sun protection, her face otherwise naked and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. About as basic as it could get. But off the track? Oh, she loved makeup as much as she had as a teen.

“Is it safe to come in?” A masculine shout from outside her bedroom door.

“Yes!”

The next thing she heard was her bed giving a startled creak as a big male body flopped down on it. Shifting to glance over her shoulder, through the open door of the en suite bathroom, she found Danny lying shoeless and jacketless on the bed, his hands linked behind his head and his white dress shirt stretched over his chest.

Right on cue, that thing in her body that was acting up? It let out a “whoa” because Danny looked good in her bed. Damn good.

Forcing herself to turn back to the mirror, she put down her eyeliner brush. At least then she could ignore the fact her hand was trembling. She couldn’t, however, ignore Danny—he was visible in the mirror.

“You’re not even dressed,” he said, squinting suspiciously at her fluffy white bathrobe.

“I don’t want to get makeup on my outfit. It’s not like it’s a dress I have to get over my head.”

Nothing for a while as she did a few touch-ups on the rest of her face.

“Huh, it’s like surgery but with makeup.” He sounded fascinated. “You did something with your cheekbones that made them all…” A frown she could all but hear. “Sharper, I guess? More like knives that will cut me if I look at you wrong.”

Her shoulders shook, her grin creasing her cheeks. “Good. That was the look I was aiming for.” She picked up the lipstick she’d chosen to pair with the pantsuit. A deep, blue-based berry red, it was the focal point of her whole look.

“How’s this?” she said after putting it on, then turning around to show him.

“You look like a badass sorceress.” Angling his head, he took a second look. “Yeah, you’d definitely cut a man who got out of line with you.”