This Tender Melody. Kianna Alexander

the first smartphone operating system, sold it and for the past six years I’ve been enjoying a pretty sweet retirement.” He cocked his head to one side. “Does that answer your question?”

      Silence.

      Her dark lashes fluttered in time with her rapid blinking, the surprise evident on her face. Her cherry-red lips hung just slightly open.

      Franklin looked on without a word, although the slight upturn of his mouth gave away his amusement.

      The room grew so quiet, he could hear her breathing. For a moment, he watched the rise and fall of her chest as she leaned close over the tabletop.

      “Ms. Franklin? Have I sufficiently satisfied your curiosity?” He flexed his fingers.

      Closing her mouth, she swallowed. Making direct eye contact with him, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Winstead. I’d say you have.” She sat up, and pressed her back against the chair’s tall backrest.

      Franklin pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his sport jacket, dabbed at the moisture gathering on his brow. “Good. Now I feel I can leave you two alone to get acquainted.” He stood, retrieved his briefcase from the floor and made his way toward the open door. “You two play nice.” With that, he exited.

      Darius looked across the table at his new colleague. She’d let her head fall back against the top of the backrest, her eyes focused on the ceiling tiles above them. She used her feet to swivel the chair a few degrees left, then a few degrees right.

      He watched her for a few moments. Something was obviously on her mind, but with the bit of tension still hanging in the air, he didn’t know if he should ask.

      But finally curiosity got the better of him. “Do you think we can get along, Ms. Franklin? Can we keep this professional?” Before the last word left his lips, he knew it was going to be mighty hard to keep things that way with her. She was a beauty, full of fire and grace, like a Miles Davis recording.

      She straightened, looked at him with a slight frown. “Don’t worry. Professionalism is my area of expertise. You are standing between me and my destiny, but I’m not petty.”

      He circled the table until he was standing next to her chair. “I don’t doubt it, but that’s not what I meant.”

      Her expression changed, and she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, then.”

      “Sure you do. From the moment I stepped into that elevator with you yesterday, you’ve been on my mind.” He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t resist. With his fingertips, he touched the edge of her hairline, brushing back the hair that had fallen over her forehead once again. It was just as soft to his touch as he’d imagined it would be. “There’s something between us. Something incredible.”

      The smallest of sighs slipped from her lips, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Shifting in her seat to draw away from his touch, she shook her head. “Let’s not even go down that road.”

      He wasn’t about to let Ms. Sassy Mouth squirm her way out of this one. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel it?” He touched her again, this time brushing his fingertips against her cheek.

      The brief contact was enough to get her to shift again, then stand. When she did, her body was mere centimeters from his. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t date people I work with, Mr. Winstead.”

      He smiled. Her mouth was telling him what she didn’t do, but what she hadn’t said resonated with him even more. She hadn’t denied her attraction to him, she’d only dismissed it as irrelevant. He eased nearer to her, closing the gap between them until his chest grazed hers. “I can’t just ignore how you make me feel. But call me Darius, and we can agree to disagree on this.”

      “We both know that if I called you by your first name, I’d be encouraging you.” She raised her eyes to meet his, and for a moment, he saw the passion there. Her lips parted, as if she had more to say.

      Of their own accord, his fingertips found the softness of her cheek once more. Whatever she was going to say next was muffled as he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was short, fleeting, but unbearably sweet. Her mouth was softer and more intoxicating than anything he’d ever encountered. When she pulled away, he could feel the buttery remnants clinging to his lips—traces of her cherry lipstick left behind.

      In the aftermath, she took a step back but didn’t break eye contact with him. To his mind, she looked conflicted, as if she couldn’t decide what to do or say next.

      “Have a good day, Darius.”

      The soft-spoken words still hanging in the air, she gathered her purse and slipped from the room.