Lethal Exposure. Lori Wilde
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He could tell she didn’t want to do it, but he wasn’t moving until she did. She tilted her head.
Their gazes met and a renewed voltage surged between them.
He hadn’t felt an attraction this potent in a long time. The chemistry both unsettled him and stoked his curiosity. What was it about her that so piqued his interest?
It’s not about her. You’re just susceptible because of what happened this morning with Linc.
“It was a natural mistake,” he soothed.
“You don’t have to spin it for me,” she said, surprising him by recognizing what he was doing. “Let’s tell the truth. I made an idiot out of myself by not asking what was the nature of your business the minute you arrived.”
“You were trying to spare me humiliation. You thought I had been playing around with some Viagra kind of thing and got myself into trouble.”
“You’re too smooth for my own good,” she said. “You ought to come with a warning label. Something along the lines of ‘Warning—man may appear more charming than he really is.’”
“How do you know I’m not as charming as I appear?” He grinned, enjoying their sparring.
She tossed her head and her ponytail bounced pertly. “I’ve had dealings with charming men before.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
“To my detriment, I might add.”
Sebastian took a wild guess. “A charming man left you brokenhearted?”
“Something like that.” She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Anyway, I learned my lesson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Black, I have to find my real patient.”
“The guy with the irrepressible boner?”
“Mr. Black,” she scolded, but her eyes were lively. “That’s inappropriate.”
“You’re right—” he flicked his gaze to her name tag “—Julie.”
“It’s Miss DeMarco.”
“Miss? As in not married?” His eyes drifted to the bare ring finger of her left hand. He might play the field, but as far as he knew, Sebastian had never bedded a married woman and he wasn’t about to start.
“As in none of your business. Now if you’ll get out of my way, I’d appreciate it.”
He’d pushed too far. Sebastian was smart enough to know when to back off. He stepped aside and she brushed past him on her way out the door.
The contact—their first touching—was nothing short of electrifying.
They both inhaled audibly in a simultaneous breath. She stopped in midstride and their gazes seared again. He felt like a pistol. Hot, cocked and loaded.
She was right. He was inappropriate.
“Look,” he said, “we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we start all over?” He thrust out a hand. “Hello, I’m Sebastian Black.”
She hesitated and just when he decided she wasn’t about to take his hand, she reached out. “Julie DeMarco.”
He grasped her soft palm and she squeezed lightly. His entire arm tingled and he experienced a hot rush of sexual energy surge through every cell in his body and the hairs on the nape of his neck rose to attention.
The sight of their clasped hands riveted him. Her creamy skin was much lighter than his. She was all soft and smooth. He was hard and rough. The contrast in their two hands would have made one hell of a photo. Man, woman. Strength, delicacy. Tanned, pale. United.
A familiar rush of adrenaline. The thrill of the chase. Outside in the hallway, in the silence of his indrawn breath, Sebastian could hear a cart being pushed, wheels squeaking, in need of oil. In that moment Sebastian understood that one way or the other, he was going to take this woman to bed.
“Pleased to meet you, Julie DeMarco.”
And then he had a brilliant idea that would effectively kill two birds with one stone. A solution that could help him solve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image problem, plus get him closer to the appealing Miss DeMarco. The technique had served him well on many campaigns.
“Listen,” he said, “I need your help.”
“My help?”
She looked so cute with her brow furrowed and her bottom lip tucked up between her teeth. Good thing she was no longer investigating the zipper of his pants. She’d see that the Viagra abuser wasn’t the only one with a boner.
“I need an insider’s view.”
“An insider’s view?”
“To help me see Confidential Rejuvenations in a way only someone who works in the trenches can. I’d like to hear what you think about the recent scandals.”
“I can’t violate patient confidentiality.”
“Nor would I ever ask you to do so.” He smiled. “I’d just like to get your take.”
“Why me?”
“I need input from several sources, not just the bigwigs in the expensive suits. Let’s be honest, they’re out of touch with what really goes on behind the scenes.”
“Bigwigs in expensive suits like you?”
“Touché.” She was feisty. He liked that. “What do you say?”
“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”
“Do you always work the swing shift?”
“Yes.”
“Does your shift start at three?”
“Two-thirty.”
“How ‘bout this. I meet you for lunch at the sushi restaurant down the block that I saw when I was driving in.”
“Are you always this pushy, Mr. Black?”
His gaze held hers. “Only when I see something I want.”
She made a small noise in the back of her throat and gave him a cool, assessing glance. He noticed the pulse at the hollow of her neck quickened. Ah, just as he suspected. She liked him, whether she was willing to admit it or not.
“So it’s a date,” he said as a statement, not a question, but his gut squeezed.
Julie pursed her lips, her frown deepening.
She’s going to say no. His hopes took the express elevator to his shoes.
What in the hell was the matter with him? Why was he so disappointed at the thought she’d reject him? He hadn’t felt this nervous around a woman in years. Blame his aberrant anxiety on the fact his brother had dropped the marriage bomb on him that morning and he was off his game.
It had been too long. He was a bit chagrined to realize he hadn’t had sex in almost ten months. Not because he hadn’t had plenty of chances, but mainly because no woman had excited him enough to give chase.
But Julie DeMarco had changed all that in record time.
She sank her hands on her hips. He saw the word no forming on those full, luscious lips. His disappointment was surprisingly sharp-edged.
She held his gaze.
He heard blood rushing through his ears, felt his body tighten.
“Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll do it. I’ll give you an interview.”
“I MET A GUY.” Julie grinned at her best friends, Elle Nash and Dr. Vanessa Rodriquez. They were sharing a pitcher of beer at a hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor near the University of Texas, which