She’s quiet for a moment as we walk down the corridors toward the research wing.
“I couldn’t focus at home. I kept thinking about the assessments and whether I was doing everything right. When I wanted to check them, I found that I’d forgotten my tablet. So, I drove here to get it.”
“Perfectionist.”
“Is that meant to be an insult?”
“Observation. There’s a difference.”
We get to the research office, and I swipe my key card. The beep is loud in the quiet hallway. The door clicks open.
She moves past me into the darkness. I follow, switching on the small desk lamp instead of the harsh overhead light. It casts her in warm gold light, softening her features.
She finds her tablet and hugs it to her chest like armor.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to help, but you did.”
“I wanted to.” My voice is low and husky. “I always want to help you, Ivy.”
She turns. The lamplight catches in her dark hair. It makes her eyes luminous. Her pulse rapidly flutters in her throat.
I want to place my lips on it and feel its rapid beating. I want to trail kisses from her forehead to her throat down to that body always hidden in an oversized cardigan.
“Why do you look at me like that?” Her voice is low and charged with desire.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re hungry.” She swallows hard. “Like I’m something you want.”
The honesty in her question deserves honesty in return. I close the distance between us slowly.
It gives her time to retreat. She doesn’t.
“Because I’m hungry, Doc.” My voice drops even lower in the dim space. “And you’re someone I’ve wanted ever since you stepped into the therapy room and called me disgusting while trying not to stare.”
“I wasn’t…”
“You were. And it was the most honest reaction I’ve gotten from anyone in years.”
My finger brushes hair tendrils from her face and tucks them behind her ears. She stiffens, her eyes fixed on mine. My eyes settle on those cheeks that are getting redder by the minute, then to those small pink lips.
Very kissable lips.
“I’m not attracted to you.” Her voice wavers, her body swaying slightly toward mine.
Her eyes are trained on my lips. One part of my lips curve into a smirk. When she looks up and realizes I’ve noticed, guilt fills her eyes.
“You’re not attracted to me?” My hand holds her waist, feeling the growing warmth of her skin through the cardigan. “Your words say one thing, Ivy. Your body says another.”
“This is…” She trails off, struggling. “This is wrong.”
My face bends toward hers, wanting to taste every part of those lips. Her body moves toward mine.
“My brother is going to kill me. I need to maintain professional boundaries,” she says even as her eyes refocus on my lips.
My mind looks for ways to reassure her. I’m accomplished, have million-dollar assets and liquid cash. Any reasonable man can see that I can take care of Ivy.
“Your brother’s just doing his job,” I say lightly, lifting a shoulder. “Protective big brother routine. Comes with the territory.”
