His heat and cologne were an intimate invitation her body was only too happy to accept. Sat up and begged to accept. She swallowed. His finger glided along the edge of her jaw, the coarse texture against her skin surprising and arousing. She glanced down. Rough calluses lined the inside of his hand and fingers. She’d never noticed his hands before; now they fascinated her.
“Call the police.”
Minty-fresh breath washed over her face. Instinct as old as time brought her a step closer. Matt’s eyes narrowed and his gaze dropped to her lips. His head lowered.
She jerked back and slammed into the glass door. Her face heating, she reached up to rub her abused head. Matt… Mr. Duncan, beat her to it. His strong fingers massaged her scalp. Her eyelids drifted shut. Angelic cherubs above, he knew how to use his fingers. Another, much lower, throb joined the first.
Firm, masculine lips feathered across hers. How she managed to remain upright and not melt into a puddle, she didn’t know. Opening her eyes, she stared at Matt. Head cradled in his broad palm, his lips an inch from hers, she forgot how to breathe.
Regret flickered in the depths of his eyes, and he gently untangled his hand. Her happy bits whimpered in denial. Her conscience slapped them into silence—the one thing in her whole body staving off looming insanity.
Number-one mistake—fling with your boss.
“I’d say I’m sorry,” Matt shrugged, “but…”
I’m not, was unsaid, but she heard it just the same. Matt’s gaze lingered on her mouth.
She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying anything dumb. Or worse, licking her lips again.
“I’d better go.”
Doorknob in hand, he paused and seemed to consider her. She tried to meld into the glass door, struggling to wrap her brain around what had just happened.
“Promise you’ll call the police and have the locks changed, Grace. Please.”
Her knees trembled. Two pleases in the space of fifteen minutes from her intractable employer. She nodded, releasing her tongue to gnaw on the inside of her cheek. The door closed behind him and silence descended. Relaxing in small increments, she slid to the floor.
A bouquet of flowers she’d received the other day drew her gaze. They’d shown up on her doorstep without a card. Glancing from them to her disaster zone of a kitchen, she narrowed her eyes. The coincidence was too much to ignore. She rose, snatched them out of the vase, yanked open the balcony door and tossed them over the railing.
“What the…” came a male voice from below.
Grace groaned and leaned over the balcony railing. Mr. Duncan straightened, a few of the discarded flowers in hand. Flower petals decorated his dark hair and the breadth of his shoulders. He glanced up.
Perfect. Could this day get any better? She smiled weakly.
He waved the flowers. “Friends of yours?”
“Not exactly. Sorry.”
He grinned. Even three flights away, it decimated her. Sweet heaven, his smile should be illegal.
“No problem.” He waved and walked away.
She was rooted to the spot. His athletic stride carried him around the side of the building. She groaned and dropped her head into her hands.
Perfect. Just…perfect. In the space of twenty-four hours, her life had gone from pleasantly simple to anxiety- and lust-ridden. She massaged her temples. Boring was so underappreciated.
• Freaked out by stranger invading her home………CHECK
• Ticked about stranger moving her precious car………CHECK
• Mysterious flowers messing with her head………CHECK
• Flirting & considering having a wild fling w/boss………CHECK
• Men in white coats arriving soon to cart her off………CHECK
Sweet baby cherubs, her life was ricocheting out of control. Grace dialed the police with a soft groan. World’s Biggest Idiot should be stamped across her forehead.
An hour later, she ushered the uniformed police officer out and pressed cool palms to her hot cheeks as she stood in the doorway. Calmly dealing with the sanctimonious, condescending prick had taken every iota of self-control she possessed.
“Probably just a prank, miss. We’ll send a cruiser through the area on a regular basis, if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
The only thing missing was a pat on the head.
Lisie’s door cracked open and her friend’s head popped out, her eyes big as saucers and swimming with worry when they met hers. Despite the circumstances, Grace couldn’t help smiling and rolling her eyes at Her Royal Nosiness.
“You want some company, cher?”
“No, thanks. I think I’m going to turn in early.”
“Alright.” Lisie frowned. “Give me a call when you’re ready to tackle that mess and I’ll come help, you hear?”
“Bossy.”
“Is that a yes?”
Grace brought her heels together and snapped a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
Lisie snorted a soft laugh and pointed a long-tipped finger at her. “I’m holdin’ you to it.”
Smiling, Grace closed her door and leaned back against it. A glance at her kitchen and her smile slipped away on a sigh and a shiver. There be creepers out there.
Matt steered the heavy bike into Julia Davis Park. Bright sunshine, blue skies, warm temperatures, and a cool breeze felt more like May than March. He idled to a stop at the side of the narrow road, near a large fountain in the center of the park.
People rode bicycles, children swarmed over the playground, old couples fed ducks and teenagers played with their dogs. Fresh-cut grass scented the air. His gaze swung back to one of the teenagers with a dog and he stiffened, blindly reaching to turn off the rumbling engine.
A big dog had a female teenager down on the grass and it looked like…He shot off the bike and was running before he’d completed the thought.
The closer he got, the bigger the dog became. It loomed, massive and fierce, over the girl on the ground. The dog raised its massive head, locked gazes with him and shifted to stand over the girl. The animal’s protective stance slowed Matt. He stopped several yards away.
The girl lying on the grass tilted her head back. He didn’t dare look away from the huge dog, but an inkling of suspicion trickled through him. From the corner of his eye, pink infused her cheeks and her eyes shone bright with laughter. He might have misjudged the situation.
“Apollo, down.” The dog obeyed her firm command with the docility of a pussycat. Apollo’s gaze didn’t waver. The message came through loud and clear: watch his step or he’d be dog chow.
The girl rolled into a sitting position with fluid grace and tilted her head to the side as she contemplated him.
Daring to look away from the big dog, he met her eyes and rocked back on his heels. Hard. “Grace?”
She laughed and hugged her knees to her chest. Her cheeks were rosy from