Gemma regarded him with wide, gray eyes. “Did you just defend me?”
He couldn't tell her that he'd defend her to anyone at any cost. When he'd seen who was calling, picking up the call had been instinctive, unstoppable. “Let's talk about something else—”
“You just defended me!”
“I don't like it when companies badger people unlawfully,” he said stiffly.
She positioned herself in front of him, angling her chin up. “You care about me.”
“We're colleagues. I do this type of thing for colleagues—”
“You. Care. About. Me.”
“Don't read anything into it. I—”
She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket. “Thank you.”
He braced against the need that surged through his veins. “You're welcome.”
She flipped the end of his tie over his shoulder.
“We are not undercover at the moment.” He smoothed his tie back into position. “No need to pretend.”
“Who's pretending?”
She was smiling up at him and he was staring down at her as their dynamic turned quiet and serious. Her attention dropped to his mouth. Then her lashes skimmed slowly up as she met his eyes once more. She was so close that he could see the gradient of color in her irises.
Move, he told himself.Say something. But he was rooted to the spot. Riveted.
She slid a finger along his bottom lip.
He held his breath. Afraid to stop this moment. Afraid not to stop it.
She rose onto her tiptoes and then her lips were on his, warm.
He couldn't believe this was happening.Gemma. Everything about her was delicious and his body was demanding that he kiss her for hours. But he could not—could not—let himself do so.
Belatedly, his muscles obeyed his brain, and he stepped back.
They peered at each other. She licked her bottom lip, and he almost had a heart attack.
“You can't kiss me,” he said, hoarse. This was against FBI rules. Plus, she had a boyfriend.
“I just did.”
“We're involved in a Bureau operation.”
“It looks to me like our operation might have come to an end.”
“We're not the ones who decide when it comes to an end.” His hands were trembling, so he fisted them at his sides.
She gave him an expression of compassion.
“What?” he said tightly, his heart thumping.
“It must be difficult to always stop yourself from getting upset. I get upset sometimes. I don't mind if you get upset. Want to throw something? I can supply a pillow.”
“I do not want to throw a pillow.”
