Oh my God, Samuel Steele was a walking, talking wet dream.
She’d drooled from afar plenty, but up close he was downright gorgeous. Every woman in the place, and even some of the guys, had checked out his tight butt, flat abs and broad shoulders, and although he’d never worn anything but a suit to the office, that didn’t stop imaginations from running riot. His hair was dark and thick, his skin tanned, and regardless of the time of day, his jaw always seemed darkened with at least a day’s beard growth. And his eyes. She’d never been close enough to make out their color before, but they were a dark, piercing gray. They should have looked cold, but the way he was looking at her made her wonder if someone had turned off the air-conditioning.