Beauty and the Brooding Boss. Barbara Wallace

am I not surprised?

      “Did you say something?”

      “Nothing important.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud. Covering, she changed topics. “Lightning’s putting on quite a show.”

      “Suppose.”

      “When I was little one of the other fost—other kids told me thunder and lightning were caused by alien attacks. Scared me so much I would hide under the covers.” She could still remember cowering under the blanket, clutching her mother’s cup to her chest like a talisman. “The stupid things kids fall for, huh?”

      “Not only kids.”

      “What?” His voice was so soft, she missed part of his sentence, making it her turn to ask, “Did you say something?”

      “Nothing important.”

      Intuition said otherwise, but she didn’t press. He wouldn’t admit the truth if she did. So instead, she stole what had to be the hundredth look at his profile. In the dark, she could only see the outline of his features. His expression was impossible to read. Even so, his magnetism was stronger than ever. Maybe because they were alone, or because the dark made everything that much more intimate, but she felt surrounded by him. There seemed no escaping his scent or the heat emanating from his body. She could even feel the rise and fall of his chest, his breathing strained as it filled his lungs. His desolation was palpable, so much so she hurt for him. She found herself wanting to reach out and soothe his pain.

      “I’m sorry about this afternoon,” she said softly. “I had no right to snoop behind your back.”

      “No, you didn’t.”

      The corner of her mouth twitched upward with guilty amusement. “You don’t believe in cutting people slack, do you?”