Sam wasn’t in the library when she got there, but the door to his office stood open and she heard furious muttering coming from it. Curious, she walked in. Sam was frowning over his computer. His hair was disheveled where he’d evidently thrust his fingers through it. He looked every inch a writer and he looked gorgeous.
“Problem?” she asked.
He looked up, as if her arrival had startled him. “New scriptwriting program. Darned thing won’t load properly. Cosmic Panda has been optioned as a TV series and I need the program to write the script,” he explained. “That’s privileged information, by the way. My agent plans to announce it publicly after the tour.”
Hearing that the character he had purloined from Ellen was about to become even more profitable helped her to harden her heart against the urge to go to him and smooth away the lines of worry creasing his brow.
Remembering why he had hired her, she asked, “Do you need the program before you go?” When he shook his head, she said, “Then leave it and I’ll load it for you.”
“I knew you were the person I needed.”
His words and electric smile of gratitude undermined her resolve, and her pulse double-timed as his dark gaze rested on her. “What?”
“You have baby powder on your nose.”
She scrubbed at it with the back of her hand then winced. “Some of it went into my eye.”
He uncoiled from the desk and stood up. “Here, let me help.”
With the grace and purpose of a mountain lion, he stalked to her side and put an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to the window, into the light. Tilting her head back, he studied her eye for a moment, then released the lid. “Your eye looks clear now. You’ve probably scratched it and that’s why it feels as if something’s still there. If you bathe it, the pain will go away.”
“It’s gone now.” The words came out as a strangled whisper, so aware was she of his touch. She tried to shake herself free of his spell and move away, but her legs felt frozen. Only her mind was vibrantly active, processing how much she liked the feel of his arm around her and the brush of his fingers against her face.
So when he bent his head and kissed her, it felt completely natural and right. Her mouth trembled under his, but she couldn’t summon the will to stop him. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes, seeing stars behind her closed lids as he sipped and nuzzled, touched and tasted.
For such a powerful man, he was gentle, never once taking undue advantage of her startled acquiescence. At the slightest objection from her, he would have released her, she sensed. So say something, stop this, her logical brain urged. She kept silent.
Yet inside her ran a riot of responses that made her blood leap and her heart gather speed. His fingers slid along her jaw, gently caressing, until he reached the pulse at her throat. She felt him register it and wished she could stop the betraying hammering. But she could no more control it than she could tear her mouth away from his. If anything, she wanted more, hungered for it, and the shameful whimper of pleasure she couldn’t restrain told him so.
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