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“Some people like to be wined and dined, I like to be fajita’d and margarita’d.” The voice was smooth, seductive, and there was no mistaking its purpose. This was a pick-up line—tried and true. But Siena wasn’t sure how effective it was on her.

Curious about who would use such a tacky line on her, Siena looked up from her table at the tapas bar and directly into washed-out blue eyes surrounded by dark, perfectly-drawn charcoal lines.

“Excuse me?” She pursed her lips, a deep line forming in the center of her forehead.

“I couldn’t help but notice the way your date left, with all this food untouched and a quiet goodbye settling over the table.” The woman waved at the table to indicate that the food had just arrived and not been touched. That had been Siena’s fault, really. Herdatewas anything but. A young potential client of hers who had too much attitude and not nearly enough grit to handle constructive criticism. It hadn’t been Siena’s first choice to have the conversation here, but she had neglected to eat all day and the woman wouldn’t take tomorrow for ananswer. Siena had never been one to hold off on hard conversations, and by the time the food arrived, she finally had some peace to eat.

Siena cocked her head and lifted a single eyebrow. The heated conversation had seemed to fly under the radar for everyone in the restaurant. Except for this brazen woman. “And you are?”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The smile that burst across the woman’s face took Siena by surprise. It turned those washed-out eyes into sparkling jewels and, oh goodness, were those dimples? “My name is Julie, Julie Andrews.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Siena took the offered hand, but she didn’t hesitate. She had always been a sucker for forward women, and the obvious lie about the name was probably the most amusing part of her evening so far.

“What can I say?” Julie shrugged. “My mom was a big Mary Poppins fan.”

“Right.” Siena smiled, though she looked closer at this woman, her eyes dropping to the V cut at the top of the dress that wrapped around her luscious curves and folded across her body exactly the way it should to show everything off. “And what does she think of Victor/Victoria?”

“It’s in the fabulous category, but it’s one of my favorites.” Julie’s smile stretched wider as she met Siena’s eyes on their way back up to her face from her cleavage.

“Well,” Siena leaned back in her chair and waved a hand at the recently emptied chair. “It seems a pity to let all this food go to waste. Care to join me?”

What the hell was she thinking? It had been ages since she’d been so forward with someone, since she’d allowed the freedom of a good time to transform into whatever was going to happen next.

“If you insist.” Julie smiled, already slipping into the chair.

Siena loved tapas bars. No matter which one she went to, the sound wrapped around her in a familiar blanket of noise. The clatter of glass and crockery, the chatter of excited voices, and the constant shuffle of movement reminded Siena of the rush of a concert, or backstage at a play. The calming chaos washed over her, and she breathed in the heavy aromas rising from the table just as she was served another plate—the last one that Krissy had ordered.

“So,” Julie purred as she leaned forward and plucked up a piece of chopitos. She took her time slipping it between her lips, and Siena’s mouth went dry in an instant. “Do I at least get a name?”

“A name?” Siena’s brain had been too focused on those full lips sucking in the morsel of food.

“Yes.” Her laugh was full bodied, and Siena smiled instinctively. Julie leaned forward, her cleavage on full display.

“Right.” A name? Siena’s brain struggled to reconnect synapses. Eventually images of running her tongue over the swell of those breasts were pushed aside enough for Siena to remember how to play this game. “Well, Julie, Julie Andrews, why don’t I be your Dick Van Dyke for this evening?”

“Oh my God.” Julie threw her head back and let out that laugh once more. “I am not calling you Dick, but I might be convinced to call you Van, or would you prefer Dyke?”

Siena chuckled low. If only Julie knew just how amusing that truly was. But there was no way she would be telling this forward buxom woman she was Siena Frazee of D.Y.K.E. Management. She didn’t mind keeping the joke to herself, it always ended up being safer that way.

Especially if the road the evening had turned down was the one Siena thought. And Siena was rarely wrong in these situations.

“I could answer to Van.” Siena smiled and wet her bottomlip with the tip of her tongue. How much of this attraction was mutual? With the way that Julie locked her gaze on Siena’s tongue, it was certainly going both ways. Because Julie barely raised her gaze back up in time to be considered cordial.

“All right then, Van.” Julie’s cheeks darkened ever so slightly beneath her makeup, the rouge painting across her skin in a stunning show of arousal.

Siena smiled and gave her a quick wink.

Oh, this was going to be an excellent evening after all. The woman wasn’t just deliciously curvy in all the ways that drove Siena wild, but it seemed she could play the game for what it was. And enjoy it just as much.

Dropping her hands from her chin, Julie leaned further forward, ensuring the V on that cherry wine dress strained to contain the generous breasts within. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to ask. You don’t seem upset by the breakup—not serious I’m guessing?”

“Not upset, not serious.” Siena smiled.

Very observant, confident, and forward.

Siena slid a meatball into her mouth and drew the toothpick out slowly, giving herself time to indulge in how Julie shifted around in her chair.