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.
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