Piper leaned forward to pour the coffee and the V-neck of her top gaped enough for Mark to take in nicely rounded flesh and some lace. The coffee filled his mug in a slow stream that gave him plenty of time to stare down her top and plenty of time for her to be aware of it.
He might be in a little trouble here. He hadn’t been with a woman in way too long. Between his injury and the offlimits students, he’d had to freeze those urges. Piper Scott was definitely thawing them and at a most inconvenient time.
He forced his eyes downward a few more inches so they were focused on the coffee mug and not on Piper Scott’s surprisingly deep, lace-outlined cleavage.
The instant he saw the spout of the coffeepot tilt back, Mark grasped his mug and risked a glance upward, aiming for Piper’s eyes without traveling over her breasts. “Thanks.”
She smiled in response, and he smiled back because it would be impolite not to.
But then her smile grew and he knew she’d caught him looking down her top. She’d flashed him deliberately as repayment for their little thing earlier, before the meeting started, when they’d been sizing each other up.
Nicely played. Grinning, he dipped his head and raised his mug a fraction of an inch in acknowledgement. And then their gazes connected in one of those “hey, there could be something here” moments. Finding out could be fun. But Mark’s style was intense and temporary, no muss, and no fuss when his work ended the relationship.
Too bad Piper Scott wasn’t the type. Too bad one of the more attractive things about her was that she knew it.
The connection lasted long enough for both of them to realize nothing was going to happen between them and feel a twinge of regret—well, Mark sure did.
BT interrupted the moment by roaring, “Enough!”
Piper flinched and set the coffeepot down.
“You—” BT pointed at Mark. “I don’t care what you call her, but you’re taking somebody on assignment with you from now on. And you will consult with that somebody and if you don’t, I’ll pull your press credentials. And you—” he pointed to Piper. “If you and Dancie want OMG’s backing for your project, then show me this compatibility theory of yours works. Find Mark somebody he can get along with and who can stand up to him. That last part is very important.”
“Dad, get serious!” Travis nearly came out of his chair. “She’s a dating columnist! We’re talking about hiring somebody who’s going to be working with a world-class journalist, not finding Mark a date to the prom!” He didn’t bother to hide his scorn, which Mark could have told him was a mistake.
Sure enough, the women were eyeing Travis with narrow-eyed gazes. “The way it works is that you only send me qualified candidates,” Piper said in clipped tones. “I’ll select the most compatible ones from among those.”
Not going to happen. Mark shook his head, but Piper didn’t notice. Or if she did, she ignored him.
“And when am I supposed to find the time to do that?” Travis asked. “Since we’re not going to the Super Bowl—” he sent a resentful glance toward his father “—I have to redo everything. And that includes contacting the advertisers—”
“I can help you out, Travis,” Dancie offered sweetly.
Mark had heard enough. “Don’t bother,” he said. “For the last time, I. Work. Alone.”
“Not if you’re working at OMG,” BT told him.
Which is pretty much how Mark had expected this to play out. BT should be the one interviewing employees for the news division. He hadn’t said anything about doing so because he knew it wasn’t going to happen.
“Fair enough.” Mark pushed back from the table. “I’ll always be grateful for the opportunities OMG gave me.”
“Hang on a minute, Mark.” Panic sounded in Travis’s voice.
Mark stood, his leg screaming in protest. “Travis, it’s time for me to move on.” Past time for a pain pill, too. “Bye, all.”
Travis swiveled his chair away from the table. “Mark, wait.”
Mark pushed open the door. “I’ll call you later.” He had to get off his leg. Limping badly, he started across the foyer, knowing there was a real possibility he might not make it to his car.
“I’ve got a client meeting,” he heard behind him. “So I’m going to leave now, too.”
In an instant, Piper was beside him. “Lean on me,” she murmured beneath her breath. She held out her arm in a way that hid it from those in the conference room behind them.
He wasn’t about to argue. Bracing himself against her took some of the weight off his leg and relieved the pain.
“It stiffened up in the meeting, didn’t it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Thanks.”
“Can you walk to the front door?”
Mark gave a tight nod.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He started walking and she matched her steps to his, bless her, and as soon as they were out of sight, she insisted he lean on her fully.
Mark was relieved that she didn’t try to make conversation. If it hadn’t been for his damned leg, he would have appreciated her closeness more.
As they negotiated a couple of steps, he inhaled sharply and smelled her perfume. It was a flowery, sweet, girlie scent he wouldn’t have associated with her, especially in a business situation. But now that she was pressed up against him, he noticed the jewelry and the hair and the skirt and especially the sandals with the high heels. She looked as though she was going out on a date. Or entering a beauty pageant.
Or dressing to appeal to BT, clever girl.
So she wasn’t necessarily the church picnic type.
“Where are you parked?” she asked as he wondered about her normal style.
“Faculty lot near the Burns building.”
“Where’s your class?”
“Burns building.”
“And where are your pain meds?”
He stopped and looked down at her, but instead was visualizing the orange plastic container in his gym bag.
Piper met his gaze. “I’m guessing you either didn’t fill the prescription because you don’t like the idea, or you left them at home or some other inconvenient place.”
She had him pegged. “They’re in my locker at the physical therapy center.” Which was several miles away. He could have used the campus facilities for his rehab, but didn’t want an audience when he worked out.
“Okay, then we will get you to the Burns building for your class and you will give me the key to your locker and I will get the meds.” She wasn’t asking; she was telling, step by no-nonsense step.
Mark didn’t like being told what to do and how to do it even if he agreed. “You should go back to the meeting.”
She glanced behind her. “It’s all over but the shouting. Literally. Now give me your key and I’ll drive to the PT center and get your pain medication.”
Need and pride warred within him.
Her expression never changed and she spoke in the same nursery-school teacher tone. “You wouldn’t need them if it wasn’t for me. If you don’t give me the chance to make it right, I’ll feel awful.”
“You are so lying.” He shook his head, grinning down at her. “You didn’t even try to sell that.”