"Becky, I haven't been prepping for this meeting in order to miss it just because I'm a bit under the weather. I'll be there as soon as I can find my shoes in this mountain."

Liliana frowned at the pile of shoe boxes in her living room. It was a necessary evil to have her babies all boxed up and piled in here while her bedroom closet was undergoing renovations, but she knew her babies were suffering. She patted the top row. "Don't worry sweetlings, the carpenter said your new cupboard will be finished this week. You're going to love the brilliant design he did. It's fabulous." She heard the key in the lock. "And here's the man of the hour."

Michael Paige stopped with his hand on her front doorknob and one steel-toe boot on the threshold. "Sorry, Ms. Crane, I didn't realize you'd still be home."

"Hello, Mr. Paige. Just need to locate a pair of shoes in all this, then I'll be on my way." She reached for a box at random, but stopped when he stepped forward, hand raised.

"Ms. Crane, if I may be so bold," He swept his eyes over her scoop-necked, black silk blouse and mauve pencil skirt then over to the boxes. "I'd recommend you go with these ones." He pulled a box from the middle of the pile and opened it to reveal a pair of animal print slingback heels that, amazingly, she'd never actually worn.

When their fingertips met as he handed over the box, she looked up in time to catch heat flash through his eyes. Delight curled in her core when he glimpsed at her lips before dropping his gaze to the floor. Slowly she withdrew her hand. "Thanks. How did you know those were there?"

He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets, rattling the tools hung on the tan leather tool belt slung low around his hips. "You've got an impressive collection there. I got a good look when I was boxing them up and piling them here, so I remember where I put them all. Important information just sticks in my brain, somehow." He coughed and looked at her from the corner of his eye.

She held the pair of shoes up and looked at them from different sides. "You know, these are the only pair of shoes I've ever bought that I regretted. I don't think I suit animal prints."

Michael cleared his throat. "Ms. Crane, you could wear the shoe boxes and look good. My sister's taking fashion design, so I've been schooled in what looks good on someone. And trust me, animal print is definitely a good look for you."

She made a noise of disbelief in her throat, but slipped on one of the shoes. She held out her foot, then looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror behind her front door. He was right. They looked fabulous with her outfit. When she leaned down to put on the other one though, pain sliced through her head, and the floor rushed up to meet her.

"Whoa, there," Michael caught her before she fell to the hardwood and gently lowered her to sit on the sofa. Concern etched deep creases across his forehead. "Are you okay? You're really flushed." He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "Ms. Crane, you're burning up."

He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a child and carried her upstairs to her room. Carefully he lay her on the bed, then disappeared out the door. She closed her eyes and focused on the pulsing heat radiating from her ear. She knew it was an infection she should have gotten medication for two days ago.

She'd be able to make it through the meeting in an hour, but she definitely wouldn't be going to the Valentine's Day dance at the Four Seasons in Toronto tomorrow. She sighed and massaged her aching temples. It sucked that the first year she actually wanted to go, she couldn't. Her sister was going to be furious because she had a blind date for Liliana and everything. A date who sounded better than shoe shopping, which was another first in a long time.

The water ran in the bathroom down the hall, then Michael was back laying a blissfully cool, wet cloth on her forehead. He smoothed back her hair, but she cried out as pain shot through her head when he tucked a lock behind her ear.

"Ear hurts, huh?" he asked.

"Yes, I've been meaning to go to the doctor, but we've been preparing for a really important meeting. In fact, I've got to get going. It starts soon." She struggled to sit up, but Michael pushed her gently back down into the pillows.

"Ms. Crane, you shouldn't be going anywhere. Definitely not driving. Remember almost crashing to the floor downstairs?" He touched the back of his hand to her forehead again to check her temperature, but his eyes softened as he watched the passage of his hand down to her cheek.

"You've probably got a bad ear infection that's giving you this fever. Can't you postpone your meeting? Or have your partner do it alone?"

She shook her head. "Our presentation works better with both of us there. This deal is worth millions to us. I can't miss it." She sat up and swung her feet over the side, but Michael caught her again when she pitched forward as she tried to stand.

He gently sat her down. She pressed her eyes closed and clenched a hand in the comforter. They'd been working for a year to get this meeting with the CEO of a major firm. She couldn't let a stupid ear infection take her down when they were so close to their goal.

"Do you have to stand up for this meeting?" She realized Michael was sitting beside her and had his arm wrapped around her, and that she was sagging into his shoulder. Underneath his checkered flannel was a very strong man. She inhaled the smell of soap and freshly cut wood that clung to him and leaned into him a bit deeper.

She sighed. The pain in her head made her want to stay snuggled into him, but as comfortable as she was, she shouldn't and couldn't stay there. "The meeting is by video chat, because the owner of the company is out on his yacht. And before you suggest it, we can't have it here because my office isn't set up. Between preparing for this meeting and making this old house liveable, I haven't gotten around to doing more in there than getting my files unpacked." She felt him move and realized he was laughing silently. "What's so funny?"

He let out a chuckle and said, "If your going to sit down, why not wear sneakers? They would never know."

Liliana pushed him away and sat up straight. She lifted her chin and said, "It's how they make me feel. They're like underwear. It doesn't matter if no one sees it. You know it's there, and it makes a difference whether your wearing silk and satin or cotton."

Michael's eyes raked over her. His voice lowered in pitch when he said, "Yes, I imagine it does." His eyes met hers and held her captive. The heat increased the longer they stared at each other. Her skin tingled, and when she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, the hand on his thigh clenched into a fist.

Not breaking eye contact she pulled back slightly. "I'd best be going."

"Wait," he gently touched her arm, and her whole body froze in anticipation. "Where is your meeting?"

"At my partner, Becky's. Over on Beech Street. Number 42."

He slid his hand forward and caressed her elbow, raising goosebumps all over her body. "Nice house. I renovated the kitchen five years ago." He slipped his mobile phone from his pocket and dialled. She watched his lips move as he spoke, mesmerized. Her belly tightened when he looked long and hard at her lips. "Hi, Bruce. Mickey, here. Are you free to do a house call?... Great. The old Grover place. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Her voice was breathy when she said, "You have a doctor on speed dial?"

"He's my best friend."

"Oh," she said, as Michael slipped off the side of the bed and knelt before her. She smiled nervously. "What are you doing?"

Lifting her bare foot, he tenderly traced the outline of it from toe to heel and back with his finger. The slightly rough texture of his calloused fingertip sent tingles through her. Holding her gaze, he lifted her foot further and pressed a kiss to her insole. She moaned when his lips met the sensitive skin. He smiled and kissed a trail down to her ankle sending shivers through her with each one.

Drawing back, he gently took the shoe she had unconsciously been holding onto since downstairs. He slipped the shoe onto her foot, but instead of letting it go, he held it there and traced a finger around the top edge. The sensation went right through the material and lit up the core of her.

"A well-made shoe is like a solid house. They've got a strong foundation, sturdy walls, and attractive lines. They're built to last, for a long, long time." He met her eyes again when he said, "They're beautiful in every way." Her pulse picked up speed, and she gripped the comforter with both hands.

Michael stood and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her back to press the length of her body to his. Her breath was rapid, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips. "Would it distract you too much if I kissed you now, Ms. Crane, or should we wait for after your meeting?"

She slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and down his arms. His loose-fitting clothes hid a well-toned body. "You better kiss me now before I combust."

He smiled and slid a hand up to cradle the back of her head and tip it slightly to the side. He pressed his mouth firmly to hers, but pulled back when she parted her lips for him. They were both panting when he pressed his forehead to hers. "Ms. Crane, now that you've got your armour on, if I don't get you out the door to your meeting right now, you're going to miss it."

"My armour?" She licked her lips, and his hands tightened on the swell of her hips where they were resting.

His eyes flicked over her. "Your shoes, your outfit, your makeup. What you said earlier about how they make you feel? It's similar mental prep to picking up a gun and putting on fatigues."

"Were you in the army, Mr. Paige?" She ran a hand over the slight stubble along his jaw. The rough texture was delicious on her fingertips. Her breath came shallower when she saw her thoughts of his stubble on her sensitive skin reflected in his eyes.

"Yes, ma'am, I was." His hands roamed over her back and seared through the thin silk. "And please, my friends call me Mickey." They looked at each other as the word 'friend' swirled around them. It wasn't half a description of what they had begun.

"Okay, Mickey, but only if you call me Liliana. I'd better go." She took a step back and nearly fell from vertigo.

Michael caught her again, and swept her up into his arms. "How about I drive you to your meeting? You'll be a hazard on the road with no sense of balance." He smiled down at her as he headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

He paused beside the shoe box mountain in the living room and looked from it to her. A flush crept up from his collar. "Would you do me a favour when we get back?"

She tilted her head to one side and twitched up an eyebrow. A smile teased itself out at the hesitation and excitement on his face. "What?"

His voice was husky when he said, "Would you model the rest of your shoes for me?"

She lowered her lids half-mast and smiled seductively at him. "Would you like them paired with silk and lace or cotton?"

He groaned and tightened his hold on her. "Preferably nothing at all." Then he kissed her fiercely before carrying her outside.