What harm could it do, letting him walk her to the door? It would give her another few minutes to pretend they were something other than work colleagues.
Then after he left, she reallywouldfind a way to conquer her inappropriate feelings.
‘Thank you.’
She unbuckled the seat belt and opened her door. By the time she grabbed her purse and got out he was there, hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets. He looked big and broad and delicious and she had to focus on the hint of a stain on his shirt to stop herself doing something daft like reach for him.
Greer opened her mouth to say he should soak the shirt as soon as he got home. But he was an adult. He could look after his own laundry. Besides, he probably had a housekeeper.
You’re not his keeper.
Abruptly, the evanescence in her blood faded, her pulse became a dull rhythm. ‘This way.’
Avoiding his eyes, she led the way. They walked in silence. Every step made her aware of his physical presence. The heat of his body. The intriguing cedar and leather scent of his aftershave. The swing of his arm so close to hers. And with every step her yearning intensified.
Finally they reached her flat. But instead of being relieved, Greer felt wound too tight. As if one unwary move would shatter her composure.
‘Thanks for seeing me to my door.’
She was going to add that it was a long time since anyone had done that, when her throat closed with the realisation that she didn’t even know if that were true.
There wasso muchshe didn’t know.
It hit her anew with such force that she wobbled on her high heels and ducked her head, pretending to search her tiny purse for her key.
‘Greer, what is it?’
Conall moved closer and she froze. Another centimetre and they’d be touching. She feared that might unleash the longing she worked so desperately to conceal.
‘Nothing. I just need to find my key.’
She drew a steadying breath, willing the moment of acute devastation away. But when she lifted her head to fit the key in the lock she was aware of him scrutinising her features. What did he read there?
With a twist of the wrist she unlocked the door and pushed it open, for good measure taking a step into the darkness beyond. Spinning on the ball of her foot she turned and lifted her head, looking at him though avoiding his eyes. ‘Thanks, again, Conall. It was a brilliant night.’
Instead of responding with words he took one long step over the threshold that brought him tantalisingly close.
‘Something’s wrong.’ His voice was hard. ‘You’re trembling. What can I do?’
Hold me.
Greer bit her bottom lip rather than let the words escape. She was stronger than this. She’d had to be.
Yet tonight of all nights, with Conall here to witness it, her nebulous fear that something was badly wrong in her world combined with her fear that her memory loss would be permanent. Then there was the aching need forhim.
‘It’s nothing. Really.’
She shook her head and took a backward step into the dark apartment, reaching for the door, needing to close it before emotion really got the better of her.
Conall stopped her with one easy movement. The barely there touch of his knuckle brushing her cheek. ‘Talk to me, Greer. I want to help.’
Whether it was the tenderness of his gesture or the soft intensity in his voice, she felt something crack inside and messy emotions spill out. Fear, doubt and the incredible exhilaration that was her body’s response to his caress.
‘I don’t need your pity!’ Her voice was sharp and overloud.
‘It’s not pity, Greer. It’s something much stronger.’
‘What are you saying, Conall?’
