Without warning, Martin straightened, about-faced, shielded his eyes from the sun, and looked directly at her window. With a small, secret smile creasing his face, he gave his head a disapproving shake. Naughty, naughty, naughty. She offered him a taunting, wiggling wave of her fingers in return. With exaggerated gestures, he wrapped his arms around his torso and shivered. Shuddered, actually, his expression so pitiful she actually laughed out loud in the copy room. In response, she plucked at the sleeves of her fitted sateen jacket and slid her arms free, removing it in a slow, deliberate
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