“It was all wrong.” He stood up, crossing his arms and bracing his legs as if he was ready for a battle. “But don’t worry, I’m fixing it. How you had it really messed with the traffic flow of the room. Plus, I noticed after the wedding that Sir Hiss didn’t have a no-dog-zone climbing spot after the bookshelves. However, if they bracket the big window like this, he can go from one to the couch to the other and then take the fireplace mantle to the chair, and then bam, he’s made the circle to the third bookshelf in its original spot.”

“That could be the case,” she said, not liking that she had to admit (only to herself, thank you very much) that he was right about that, along with moving the couch over a bit that way and the chair nudged a few feet this way. “But I liked it the way it was.”

“And I saw how you hit your shin on the coffee table three times today because it’s in an awkward space,” he countered, his gaze going over her body as if he was memorizing it for later.

“The room was filled to the gills with your family.” She fought to keep her hand from going to that third button on her shirt and closing it. Usually, she was alone, so there wasn’t anyone to guard from getting a large flash of cleavage. The girls needed to air out after a day spent locked in an underwire prison. Nighttime was their time to be free. “Normally, I don’t have anyone here.”

“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You did it when you walked in here just now.”

Fuck. Way to go, Michelle.

“I was distracted,” she said, fumbling for an answer that didn’t make her sound totally inept.

“By what?” he asked, clearly knowing the answer already.

She should have shot back a response, but then he put his hands on his hips, the move edging the waistband of his gray sweatpants down another inch or two. Maybe she was looking really hard or maybe the light coming in from the streetlamps was just right for her to notice the dusting of light brown hair on his chest and the slightly darker line of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. She needed to drag her gaze upward. Logically, she knew this was true. She only made it as far as his bare chest before getting stuck there.

If she was a character in one of her books, this would be a sign that a spell had been cast and that she needed to watch out. However, she was not a nymph in one of her fantasy stories. She was a woman in her forties with a BMI that made her doctor give her the side-eye, in a short-term marriage of convenience with a guy she barely knew.