CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Morgan’s housekeeper escorted Leslie onto the outdoor living area.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He sipped red wine on the leather sofa under the canopy which shielded the furniture from the elements.
The middle-aged housekeeper left, closing the sliding door that separated the outside space from Morgan’s elaborate den.
“What are you doing out here?” Leslie sat on the bench beside the tall floor lamp.
“It’s such a beautiful night.” His opened shirt widened when he sat up, revealing his tantalizing chest.
“You need to close your shirt.” She chuckled, pushing hair behind her ear.
“Why?” His eyes twinkled as he buttoned it. “Hard to concentrate?”
“What do you think?”
He tipped his glass. “Glad to see you’re attracted after all.”
“Come on, Morgan. W
