Scarlett stood, and then forgot how to breathe. The man before her, taking up more space than any mortal had any right to, was over six feet tall, with muscles filling out his black tee to the point of indecency. He looks like Thor. Her mouth dried as she dragged her fascinated gaze up from his biceps. Don’t think about his biceps. She focused on his stubble-darkened jaw instead, but that didn’t help. She’d never gone for the unshaven look before, but to hell with that. Stop staring at him. Good advice. A shame she couldn’t follow it. The gossip at work hadn’t done him justice. He was so right for her purposes it was unnerving. “I’ll leave you to it then,” the girl said. Scarlett had completely forgotten about her. She tried to ignore Jackson’s messy black hair, which brushed his collar. And failed. Thor’s body. Loki’s hair. Could it get any better? “Yeah. Thanks, Ella.” Yes, it could. Even his voice dripped with sin. Dark and dangerous with a hint of deadly menace. Darts of pleasure stirred in places she’d almost forgotten she had. How was that even possible? They hadn’t even touched, and she was more turned on than she’d been in ages. The click of the shutting door cut through her lustful thoughts. Pull yourself together. She was here on business. Jackson Grayson would never take her seriously if all she could do was drool over him.