Predatory.
Determined.
Hungry.
“Hi,” she said, closing the door behind her, and then locking it.
Oh no.
“Athena, what are you doing?”
“I need you.” She walked toward my desk with purpose. “Right now.”
My eye twitched. “I’m working.”
“I know.”
“I have patient files to review.”
“I know.”
“There are people in the building. My colleagues are literally down the hall.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” She reached my desk and leaned forward, her hands flat on the surface, her eyes locked on mine. “The universe is telling me I need you. And I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”
The universe. Of course, because the universe is trying to get me fired.
“Athena, we can’t.”
“We can.” She walked around the desk. “And we will.”
“This is highly unprofessional.”
“You’re my husband.”
“This is myoffice.”
“With a very sturdy desk.” She was standing directly in front of me now, close enough that I could smell her perfume—something floral and intoxicating that made my brain short-circuit. “And a door that locks.”
“Someone could knock.”
“Then we’ll be quiet.”
“I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
“Then we’ll be fast.”
My left eye was twitching so hard I was surprised it hadn’t detached from my skull.
This is insane. This is completely insane.
I’m going to lose my medical license.
I’m going to be discovered by Fitz, who will absolutely record this for YouTube.
She kissed me.
Hard.
