the way I wrapped myself around you on the terrace, I’m not going to sleep with you.”
He’d never known a woman who just blurted out what she was thinking the way that Megan did. After dating so many women who played mind games or worked personal agendas, her forthrightness was refreshing—and only one of the things he was beginning to like about her.
“I’d say the wrapping was mutual, and while I certainly wouldn’t object to more of the same, it wasn’t my plan to take you to bed.”
Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from thinking along those lines when her body was pressed against his, but the fact that they worked together complicated the situation immeasurably. Not to mention that she could be exactly what he needed to secure the promotion that his father had dangled in front of him like a proverbial carrot.
But as he watched the little furrow between her brows deepen, he couldn’t resist saying, “Not yet, anyway.”
Chapter Six
Megan was enjoying her first cup of coffee and the quiet solitude of the morning when she heard a key in the lock. A glance at the clock revealed that it wasn’t quite ten—earlier than her sister usually came home after spending the night with her fiancé, and a lot earlier than she would have expected the morning after their engagement celebration.
And when Ashley came into the kitchen, Megan noticed that Paige was right behind her.
“Why are you home so early? And what are you doing here?” The first question being directed to her sister and the second to her cousin.
“Are you kidding me?” Paige responded first. “I saw the lip-lock on the terrace.”
“And I want to hear all the details,” Ashley demanded.
Megan took a long sip of her coffee, hoping the over- size mug hid the flush in her cheeks. “It was an Academy-worthy performance, wasn’t it?”
Her sister scowled as she put on the kettle for the tea she favored. “What do you mean ‘performance’?”
“Gage was there, pretending to be my boyfriend,” she reminded her sister and cousin. “He thought a kiss might further the illusion.”
“A kiss is a way of testing the waters,” Paige said. “Like dipping a toe in the ocean. You and Gage—that was a tsunami.”
“It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” she denied, while secretly agreeing that in Gage’s arms, she’d felt as if she’d been swamped by an enormous wave. The heat and hunger had crashed over her, dragging her into depths that were so far over her head she wasn’t sure she would ever find solid ground again.
But it had only been one kiss.
Despite having alluded to wanting to do that and a whole lot more, when he took her home, he simply walked her to her door, took the keys from her hand to unlock it for her, then stepped back and said “Good night, Megan.”
And she’d gone inside alone, uncertain whether she should be relieved or disappointed.
“Then you’ve been getting a lot more action than I have.” Paige’s complaint drew her attention back to the present. “Because I got seared from the heat standing on the edge of the terrace.”
“And I missed it,” Ashley grumbled.
“You’ve got your own hot-and-heavy romance,” Paige reminded her. “I’m the one who needs to live vicariously.”
“Things didn’t go well with Ben last night?” Megan asked, anxious to change the topic of conversation.
Her cousin shrugged. “He’s sexy and sweet, but there just isn’t any zing.”
Before last night, Megan wouldn’t have had a clue what she meant. She’d been attracted to other men, had experienced the stirring of desire, but nothing in the category of zing. But after last night, after being held in Gage’s arms, she definitely knew about zing.
When Megan came into the lab Monday morning, Gage noted that she’d gone back to wearing her glasses.
And the ponytail and baggy clothes.
He was a little disappointed, but not really surprised. He wasn’t sure if she felt more comfortable dressed that way, or if she deliberately downplayed her natural attractiveness so that she didn’t draw attention to herself.
If he had to guess, he would say it was the latter, and he couldn’t deny that her efforts were mostly successful. He certainly hadn’t taken much notice of her prior to their chance encounter at the shopping mall.
But now that he knew her a little better, was aware of the subtle curves hiding beneath her clothes and the unexpected passion simmering beneath her cool demeanor, he knew he would never be able to look at her the same way again.
He would never be able to look into her eyes and not remember how they’d gone all misty and soft—like lavender fog—when he’d held her in his arms. And he’d never be able to look at her mouth and not remember how soft and sweet it tasted, and how avidly it had responded to his kiss.
But if memories of their kiss had tormented him throughout the rest of the weekend, Megan gave no indication that it had even happened. As always, she was the consummate professional at work. She performed the tasks that were assigned to her, answered questions when they were asked and generally continued with her duties as usual. She never sought him out, never initiated conversation, and not once did he catch her looking in his direction—as he found himself looking in hers, a lot.
He let her continue to ignore him—as it was obvious to him that’s what she was doing—for three whole weeks. On Friday at the end of the third week, as they were clearing up in preparation of leaving for the weekend, he finally approached her.
Megan looked up from the stack of files she was sorting. “I can finish up here if you have to go.”
“Go where?”
She shrugged. “It’s a Friday night. I thought you might have plans.”
He shook his head. “The only women I’ve seen since we’ve started prepping for this trial are the clinical subjects. And you.”
“Did you lose your little black book?” she teased.
A few weeks earlier, he couldn’t have imagined that she would have teased him about anything, and he wouldn’t have guessed that she had a sense of humor. But he knew her better now—and still not nearly as well as he wanted to know her.
“It’s a BlackBerry,” he teased back, and earned one of those rare, shy smiles. “But the only reason I’m anxious to get out of here tonight is that I’m hungry.”
“Me, too,” she admitted.
“Got any plans for dinner?” he asked, deliberately casual.
“Oh, um, no,” she said. “Nothing specific. But I wasn’t fishing for an invitation or anything like that.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m in the mood for a burger and I have a rain check to cash in.”
Megan finished unbuttoning her lab coat, hung it on the hook by the door. “Actually, I’m—”
“You’re not going to renege on your promise, are you?”
“I don’t recall making a promise.”
“Then it’s a good thing I do.”
And that’s how they ended up at The Ranch with plates overloaded with quarter-pound burgers and spicy spiral fries. They didn’t talk much while they ate, or not about anything of significance, and when Gage finally pushed his empty plate aside, he noticed that Megan had nearly cleaned hers, too.
“You have an impressive appetite for a skinny little thing,” he noted.
“I