“What is it?”
“I don’t have my copy of the manuscript. I made our changes and gave it to Mr. Kemp to use to make copies.”
Carter stared across the room and then shrugged.
“We’ll have to share, then.” He gestured beside him. “Move your chair over here.”
Elle froze while her mouth turned dry.
Proximity
Carter realized his mistake five seconds after it came out of his mouth. Ignoring all the things he wanted to do with this woman from across the room, with his desk firmly between them, was one thing. While working right beside her, quite another.
But today, of all days, he didn’t care. He’d heard back from his solicitors already and what they’d discovered wasn’t at all what he’d hoped for. It was the sort of news that left him feeling more than a little reckless.
So, rather than direct her to sit opposite him, he waited while she dragged her chair around to sit beside him. She wore a prettier gown than usual today, but her face was pale, and dark circles shadowed her eyes, lending her beauty an almost haunted essence.
And when she lowered herself beside him, a hint of sweet perfume teased his senses.
But something was not quite right. Her feet all but dragged and where she’d usually be chatting about anything and everything, she kept unusually quiet.
“What is it? Are you ill?” As a rule, he didn’t involve himself in his employees’ personal affairs, but this was…
Her.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” And then she flipped open the manuscript.
Carter flipped it closed and turned to face her. “Your sister’s illness, is it serious? Is the baby in danger?” And then another thought struck him. “Is it catching?”
If that was the case, he’d pay someone to help her sister and child rather than allow Elle to risk her health. An unwanted image flashed before him, one where she lie pale and lifeless. And the theater wasn’t his first concern. No, it was the agonizing prospect of a world without her. He rubbed at the sudden burning in his chest and then swallowed hard.
“No,” Elle insisted, her eyes widening. “Nothing like that.”
“Good.” And because she didn’t flash him her usual smile, he asked an even more unlikely question. “Are you angry with me?”
She’d brought her chair near enough that his knee bumped into hers.
“Of course not,” she answered, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Do you want me to apologize? For yesterday?” He should. He ought to beg her forgiveness. But he wasn’t sorry at all. Because her skin was softer than he’d imagined and when he’d gathered her in his arms, she’d fit against him perfectly.
He should definitely apologize.
“Oh. The almost-kiss.” She tilted her head. “But are you?” she asked. “Sorry, that is?” Pink flushed her cheeks.
If he was any sort of gentleman, he would be. But he wasn’t a liar, and he wasn’t about to start now. She’d called it an almost-kiss…
“Only because I stopped too soon.”
His answer left the air crackling.
He’d been the one to walk away. They had simply gotten carried away acting out the scene.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t understand.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
The confusion and vulnerability in her eyes summoned guilt to his chest and around the vicinity of his heart.
