“Not at lunchtime. Relief is coming, so we can go out.”
I cocked my head, not sure I’d heard that right. “Come again?”
Just then, the door opened behind me.
“Oh—” A surprised Grace stopped.
CHAPTER 7
Peyton
Grace’s gazeflicked between the two of us as a smile formed.
My cheeks heated with a blush. “Sorry.”
“Grace,” March said, stepping to the side. “I didn’t want to embarrass Peyton by asking her to do her concussion check in front of everyone.”
“No problem,” Grace said. “I’ll show Mrs. Yang out.”
“I can,” I offered, stepping forward.
Grace waved me off. “Your health comes first.” She closed the door, and we were alone again.
Very close now to March, I crossed my arms defensively. “Z…Y…X…” Finding it hard to ignore the dimple that formed when he smiled, I closed my eyes and continued down the alphabet. I didn’t open them again until he stopped me after P.
He waved his finger in a circle for me to turn around. “That’s very good. Now your balance routine.”
Embarrassed that his praise so easily affected me, I spun around. With my arms still tightly crossed, I almost lost my balance.
Strong hands caught me. “Easy there.”
Strong, warm hands that I will ignore.
“Are you okay?” Concern tinged his voice. “Do you feel dizzy?”
Sparks of desire radiated from his hands all the way up my arms. “No. I’m naturally clumsy is all.”And incredibly affected by you.I was trying toohard to resist him and screwing up in the process. I couldn’t afford mistakes.
In the romance novels I read at night, the heroine in this position would have turned and kissed him. But I was no heroine. No, I was a scared-out-of-her-wits woman on the run, hoping to live another day, another month, another year.
His hands fell away. “If you say so. Go ahead.”
Holding my arms out, I did the heel-to-toe balancing exercise across the office to the desk and turned. “How’s that?”
“Great.” He backed to the door. “I need to get back to work.”
“Lunch?” I asked, stepping toward him. “You didn’t give me an answer.”
“Sure.” With a smile, he opened the door and walked out.
I followed to my desk and watched his fine ass as he continued on to his.
A cough came from behind me.
I turned to find Marci. “That was too quick.” She cocked her head toward the open office door. “You should make that stud take more time.”
The implication arrowed straight to my core. “He was giving me the concussion test I’m supposed to do several times a day.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “And he stayed at your house last night, didn’t he?”
