DESCRIPTION

Some couples need a miracle to get back the old magic...while others just need a little lift...

Hillary and Greg Dunne have fallen into an all-too familiar pattern: workaholics who have become roommates more than spouses.

Once upon a time they'd been wild and adventurous and madly in love, arranging lunch-hour quickies because they just couldn't wait until dinnertime to see one another. Now, fast-forward a decade, and they've become one of those "early to rise, late to bed, too tired for anything but sleep" couples.

When a handsome co-worker tempts Hillary with some much-needed attention, however, will she give in because she's only human, or will true love prevail?

EXCERPT

Just before the elevator doors slid closed, a single hand slipped in and triggered them to open up again.

Spencer stepped into the car, a tall coffee in one hand, a bike helmet in the other, and a black backpack strapped to his back 

"Hey, Hillary.  Glad to see you." 

"Good morning," she replied as her eyes immediately traveled over his body.

Sleek, shiny, black spandex bike shorts clung to every contour of his muscled legs to just above the knee.  Tan skin stretched over his taut, round calves, and drool formed at the corners of her mouth.  Her eyes traveled back up his body and zeroed in on the spectacular curves of his butt. 

Thankfully, she could only see his backside from this angle, and it took all of her will power to snap her out of the reverie of his ass and turn her attention forward.

But then she noticed the reflection in the elevator doors.  A perfect, crystal clear replication of Spencer in all his leaving-nothing-to-the-imagination glory.

Don't stare at his package.  Don't stare at his package.

She stared at his package. 

A line from a Mae West movie popped into her head, and for a split-second she entertained the notion of asking if he were happy to see her.

She heard his voice, and she did her best to look up.  She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke, and it was now or never for any semblance of propriety.  She blinked and finally looked up

"…but I couldn't pick up your call because Hayes was standing right there.  He came down to go over the details with me face-to-face.  I thought the old guy was going to make me sign an oath in blood that this plan of yours would work"

"He's pretty uptight about this project."

"By the time I could call you back, there was no answer at your extension."

"Ooops.  Sorry."

"So what was it you wanted?"

She blinked again and used every ounce of energy she had to keep her eyes focused on his and not let them jump back to the reflection and that deliciously perfect—and entirely too tempting—body.

He held out his coffee cup.  "Could you hold this?" 

She took it. 

He slipped off his backpack and bent over to set it on the floor.

A gasp caught in her throat.  Thank heavens her hand already had his coffee in it, or she might have had to reach out to squeeze the Charmin. . .

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