He glanced down the length of twenty cubicles, then grabbed her elbow. “Okay, you want to talk, we’ll talk. But not here.”
She jerked free. “Why not here?”
“Geez, Kelly.” The force of his whisper caressed over her. “Do you really want to unroll this for everyone to overhear? Even if they’re polite enough to slap on their dicta-phones, every word spoken in this building is taped.”
“So what?” She rubbed her tingling elbow.
“Kel, I’m just thinking of your feelings here.” He reached toward her hair, then stopped midair.
That ripped it.
There was only so much pity a woman could be expected to take in one day, even a woman well-versed in submerging her feelings. First Ethan in Hatch’s office. Then Carla. Even Cupid in his fuzzy felt heart, mocking her from behind his Post-it Note mask.
She hated the way her body reacted to Ethan almost as much as she hated the new awkwardness between them. She wanted this dead-end infatuation gone so she could move on with her life and her dreams.
Kelly cursed Cupid yet again for threatening to ruin what should be an incredible day. Nothing, especially not Ethan Williams, would stand in her way. She wasn’t the studious mouse any longer, afraid to leave her room for fear of causing ripples in her mother’s perfect world. She wasn’t the shy student afraid to report a pervert professor to the dean. Time to take charge of her future.
Kelly climbed up onto her chair and filled her lungs for a proper roar.
Ethan watched Kelly climb up on the chair and wondered what he’d missed. He liked to think he understood women, but this had him stumped.
Other than the fact he’d somehow managed to piss her off. A lot.
Fiery resolve crackled from Kelly in surprise heat waves that had Ethan taking a second look to verify what he saw. Back straight, she smoothed her skirt, tugged the hem of her sweater—outlining the most perfect pair of breasts Ethan had ever seen.
Well, damn. His mouth dried right up. She definitely had his attention.
“Hey, gang,” Kelly projected down the line of cubicles.
He tore his gaze back up to her face where it belonged.
“You all know Ethan Williams, right?”
Heads popped over the cubicle walls, prairie-dog style. Carla Juarez rolled back six inches.
“Is there anyone here who doesn’t know that I have the hots for him?”
Ethan choked on his tongue.
All eyes zeroed in on him. Silence reigned supreme. Ethan resisted the urge to squirm like a spider pinned to a science-project board.
“No? Nobody?” Kelly turned on her chair, her skirt swirling around her scrunched socks and tennis shoes as she checked for the consensus. “That’s what I thought. Can you believe he only just figured it out? Doesn’t say much for his operational skills, if you ask me.”
He had to stop this train wreck in the making. “Kelly, you don’t want to do this.”
She peered down at him with eyes full of steely black resolve. “Since when are you an expert on what I want, Agent Doesn’t-Have-a-Clue?” She returned her attention to her captivated audience. “Now, I suspect I’m not the only one who’s appreciated his fine bod. I’m just not too sly about checking out a man.”
She jumped down from her chair and planted her hands in the small of Ethan’s back. Her shove propelled him into the aisle with surprising strength.
Ethan shot a frown over his shoulder. “Kelly—”
“Of course, what’s not to drool over? Killer-blue eyes. And all that hair.” She whistled long and soft. “Man, I’ll be sorry to see it go.” Arms crossed over her chest, she circled him in a slow perusal. “Hmmm, let’s talk body specifics.”
“Let’s not.”
“He’s got nice legs. Runner’s legs. And those washboard abs—” She pivoted to the woman in the cubicle beside her. “What do you think, Carla?”
The woman’s gaze raked him with bold appreciation before she gave Kelly a wink and a nod. Heat burned over him. Damn it, he absolutely was not blushing.
“Time to go.” Ethan grabbed Kelly’s arm and started hauling her toward the hall, all the while trying to ignore the soft give of womanly flesh beneath his hand.
He may have been dragging her, but her straight back made it clear she was walking tall at her own pace. She called over her shoulder, “What’s the verdict on his butt, Carla? Pretty fine, huh?”
The low rumble of laughs swallowed any answer, laughs from everybody including one from Robert Davidson, who lounged just inside the door. Kelly’s eyes turned razor-sharp again in a warning Ethan picked up two seconds too late.
She jerked loose and stood her ground. “But of course we all know his butt’s great…since he shows it often enough.”
Uh-oh. Ethan jammed his hands in his pockets and prepared to weather the storm.
“As a matter of fact, he was showing that awesome ass of his about four minutes ago. You see, the thing is, now that he finally figured out I’m attracted to him, he assumes his hot body is so appealing it will render me incapable of working with him. Now silly little ole me thinks I’ve managed to do my job quite well for two years with him around. Somehow he must have forgotten that.”
Kelly advanced to stand toe-to-toe with Ethan. “Just so everyone’s clear, you’re a good-looking guy. No question. But you know what else? Big deal. Get over yourself.”
She flicked her hair over her shoulder in a tidal wave of silk that caught him square in the libido before she whipped around him and out the door.
Her tennis shoes thudded all the way down the corridor.
Davidson applauded. “Well done.”
Low chuckles echoed as everyone ducked back into cubicles.
Davidson shoved a hand through his damp hair. “Nice to see a woman have you on the run for a change.”
Kelly? Have him on the run? Ethan didn’t like the sound of that at all. And he wasn’t on the run, damn it, just off his game today. “I was only protecting her feelings.”
“And instead you hurt them.”
That stung more than it should have. “Looks that way.”
His fellow operative nodded toward an open meeting room and gestured for Ethan to follow. “So you’re going to be working with her?”
Ethan paused, then closed the door to the windowless room. Davidson would be briefed soon enough anyway—and probably laugh himself sore.
“The couple-cover deal.” Ethan paced around the room, restless energy fueling his feet.
Davidson tugged a chair from the conference table and dropped into it. “Tough gig, working with a woman you’re attracted to.”
Weary eyes said Davidson had already taken that walk.
Stopping beside a Power Point projector, Ethan readjusted the cord with too much attention. “Who says I’m attracted to her?”
“You’re not?”
Ethan blocked the image of her breasts straining against her sweater, the memory of her voice flowing over him in the car while he dressed. “She’s a friend. Or at least she was.”
“Whatever.” Davidson worked a hand along his left thigh where he’d been hit two years ago. “Sure will kill that playboy image of yours to be seen with her.”
Defensiveness crept through Ethan. He’d never thought