" In the elevator, he held silent, but she saw him twice look at her blouse. She could feel his gaze, damn it, deep inside herself. And she knew what he was looking at.
Without the binding, her boobs were far too noticeable. The damned buttons gaped and the material strained.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
If anything, her jibe only made him intensify his study. He stood there, negligence personified, his hands clasped behind his back, his stance casual and relaxed. “I can see the outline of your nipples.”
She nearly strangled on her fury. “Go to hell!”
“What are you? C cup? Maybe even a D?”
Oh, God, she did not want to stand here alone with him, closed up in such a small space with his heat and scent invading her lungs. “None of your damn business.”
He lifted his hand in front of him, not to touch her, but to imagine it covering her right breast. His face screwed up while he pretended to heft her. “I’d say a full C.”
A fine trembling started in her neck and went down her spine. She needed to stay composed to face off with Murray Coburn, but for whatever reason, this man wanted to demolish her control. “I say go kill yourself.”
He cracked a smile.
And what that smile did for him . . . She couldn’t deny that he was devastatingly handsome. Probably a cutthroat villain, but still gorgeous. That disheveled fair hair and those intense, oddly colored eyes . . . she shivered.
He lifted a brow. “Cold?”
“No.” She had to distract him. “So I didn’t catch your name.”
“No one gave you my name.”
“It’s a secret, then?” She tried to hunch her shoulders to make her chest less noticeable. “How strange.”
“That doesn’t help,” he said of her posture, “and if you’re really interested?” He held out a hand. “Trace Miller.”
She disdained touching him again. “Is that your real name or an alias?”
With a grin, he retracted his proffered hand. “What do you think?”
“I think you took my driver’s license.”
He went still for a heartbeat, giving her a small measure of satisfaction. Lifting her hands in a “woo woo” way, she intoned,” I know all, see all.” Then she curled her lip. “And besides, you suck at stealth. "

― Lori Foster , Trace of Fever (Men Who Walk the Edge of Honor, #2)