“Okay, Owen,” I say and have to close my eyes a second, because holy shiznit his name feels way too nice on my tongue.
“I like the way you say that, Megan.I can call you Megan, can’t I?”
Oh dammit.He said my name.
And yep, it does sound super sexy with that Texas twang of his.
“Um, look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is just business between us.Okay?”
His eyes gleam with mischief as he leans a little too close, voice smooth as sin.
“Now, Agent—I mean,Megan,” he corrects himself, “what makes you think I’m thinking anything?”
That grin of his is criminal.
And my body?
It completely betrays me.
Because the second he’s close enough to scent me—close enough for his shoulder to brush mine and that ridiculous aftershave-meets-forest scent of his to cloud my brain—I freeze.
He sniffs.
Casual.Subtle.But I know.
My cheeks heat like I’ve been caught red-handed.
And suddenly, I’m wondering if Owen here is trying to find me out.
Can he smell my attraction?
Does he know my panties are wet?
Shit.
I straighten my spine and grab the handle of my suitcase like it’s a weapon.
“I’ll settle in and then I’ll meet you in an hour or so.You’ve got a town to babysit, right?”I say, lifting my chin.
He steps back with a knowing smile and a mock salute.
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.But, um, you can call me if you need anything.”
“Is that right?”I murmur, and I grin at the humor twinkling in his hypnotic gaze.
He nods.
“Day or night, I live to serve.So if you need something, or you know, if Gerry the Gnome shows up through the ductwork, just gimme a holler, yeah?”
I don’t answer.I just bite my lip and raise my eyebrow, and he chuckles.Damn sound should come with a warning.
Whoops.There go my panties!
He dips his chin then steps out.I just shut the door after him, and lean against it, trying to breathe.
Professional.Focused.Detached.
That’s me.
