“Well, this was … interesting. Actually, it was kind of amazing. But it can’t happen again—you know that, don’t you? We can’t let this happen again. I’m not in the market for an … affair? Is that the right word?” “I suppose it is,” I say, stretching my arms over my head. I see her staring, her eyes running over my body and lingering on my abs. As though trying to clear her thoughts, she shakes her head, then slips on her shoes and forces a benign smile. “Whatever it was, like I said, it can’t happen again.” “Worried your husband might find out?” She gives me a wicked grin. “No. I love my
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