professional capacity when he was with her, and she supposed it wouldn’t look very good to his superiors if they heard he was fooling around on the job. And if that wasn’t enough, there was the biggest problem of all: the wedding band on his left hand.
On the other hand, there she was. She’d never felt anything approaching the feelings he’d stirred in her with a few kisses. All the rational arguments she could muster, either for herself or for him, meant absolutely nothing against the soul-deep yearning he’d unleashed.
So what was she going to do about it? Could she do anything about it? She had no feminine wiles that she was aware of, and even if she could have manufactured one, she would have been terrified of using it. Ten years later she could still hear the laughter of the premed student who had used her to do his homework. The scar was deep, and still very tender. Her lack of confidence in such matters had become an integral part of her nature.
Arlen had wanted her last night, but that could have arisen from any number of circumstances that had nothing to do with her, and she was painfully aware of it. She might not have a great deal of direct experience with human sexuality, but she prided herself on being well-read. A woman was wisest not to assume a man’s response was a reaction to her in particular. Arlen might have been reacting more to protracted celibacy than to her.
It would have been almost possible to feel pleased with the objective way she was reviewing the situation, but the bottom line wasn’t objective. She wanted—very much—to find herself in Arlen’s arms again. In fact, someplace deep inside, she wanted to weep with the longing she felt to be there again.
Standing in the middle of her office, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and closed her eyes, remembering what it had felt like for those few short minutes to be enveloped in a man’s strong arms.
No, she thought, she wasn’t going to let him get away with this. But what could she possibly do to beguile him?
There was no answer to that question. Feeling a sudden need to do something, anything, productive, she picked up the phone and dialed Security to tell them she had found the missing document. Dave Barron, the Facility Security Officer, was not in, however, and his assistant, Vicki Grier, was busy with the DIS inspectors. Having no idea who else she could discuss the matter with, Jessica decided to wait again. What was the rush, after all? This was almost like closing the barn door after the horse has gotten out.
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