The Man Next Door. GINA WILKINS

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she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him, she would have to be very careful.

      No problem, she assured herself, and then crossed her fingers beneath the table.

      During the next few days, Teague came to some very interesting conclusions about Dani. Her trust issues went even deeper than he had originally realized, and he had an uncomfortable suspicion that her wariness was based on experience. Had some jerk hurt her…? Physically, in addition to emotionally?

      She’d told him once in passing that she’d taken six months of self-defense classes when she’d first moved to the area, stopping only when her schedule had gotten too hectic. Even that fit into the pattern of a woman who had learned the hard way that she had to prepare to defend herself.

      That would explain her preference now for dating men she could so easily control, he mused. And the way she got all prickly when it seemed that anyone was getting a bit too bossy, the way she had when he had made a comment one evening in the elevator that she should be careful when coming in by herself late at night. She had informed him in no uncertain terms that she was fully capable of watching out for herself.

      They had been together a couple more times since their movie outing. Once to share a pizza and watch a football game on TV. Another time to play a board game with Mrs. Parsons, who had been so pleased at having company that she’d giggled like a schoolgirl all evening.

      He and Dani talked quite easily, now that he’d convinced her he thought of her only as a friend. Their conversation consisted mostly of small talk and teasing. He kidded her about being high maintenance and dating guys she could lead around by the nose—to which she cheerfully admitted. She ribbed him about his job as an agent and made good-natured “007” jokes at his expense.

      Anytime the subject got a bit too close to her past relationships, she cut him off abruptly. She asked very few questions about his own past, maybe so as not to encourage him to inquire about hers.

      He tapped on her door on a Wednesday afternoon a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. She opened it with a distracted expression that, along with her ultracasual sweatshirt and grubby jeans, told him she’d been studying.

      “Test tomorrow?” he asked, recognizing the look by now.

      She nodded. “Big one.”

      “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to give you this.”

      She lifted her eyebrows in question when he pressed a brown paper bag into her hand. “What is it?”

      “Two bananas and a pear.”

      She laughed in surprise. “Um…okay. So, why?”

      “Because I’m going to be extremely busy for the next few weeks and I’m not sure I’ll be home to eat them before they go bad. I’d hate to see them go to waste.”

      “Trust me,” she said. “They won’t go to waste.”

      “Good. I hope you enjoy them.”

      “You want to come in for a few minutes? I can make hot chocolate.”

      He shook his head with regret. “As tempting as that sounds, I have to pass. I’ve got to work tonight.”

      “Work? That’s what you’re going to be doing for the next few weeks? I thought maybe you were finally getting away for that vacation you’ve been talking about taking.”

      “I wish,” he muttered, thinking of the unsavory assignment he was about to dive into.

      She searched his face, then spoke lightly, “Do I have to warn you again to be careful?”

      “Probably not a bad idea.”

      “Then I will,” she said, her smile just a little strained now. “Be careful, okay? I don’t have that many friends around here.”

      “How about a friendly kiss on the cheek? For luck?”

      She shook a finger at him, but then placed a soft kiss on the cheek he offered hopefully. Her lips were as warm and inviting as he’d always imagined them to be. It was all he could do not to turn his head just that couple of inches required to make their mouths meet. Instead he managed a casual smile when she drew back. “That ought to do it. Thanks.”

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