One Blazing Night. Jo Leigh

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One Blazing Night - Jo Leigh

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      He nodded as she led him into the high-end kitchen for a second time. He found himself only half listening as she explained something about ordering food, but he figured it didn’t matter—he had the brochure; he’d figure it out. He wasn’t here for the whiz-bang stuff, except for the fact that Sammy designed it.

      It was clear this place made her tremendously happy. Those green eyes of hers glowed with beautiful intensity. She spoke faster, too, when she was describing the apartment’s amenities. Sometimes skipping words, then going back to chase them down. He loved every second of it.

      The technical stuff was utterly lost on him. But this was Sammy, the girl he remembered. The heels were unexpected, though. He knew she hated them. In fact, he could only remember her wearing them twice, and both times she’d taken them off at inappropriate times. Once, she’d been in the dean’s office with some big-money alumni. Matt hadn’t been there, but she’d told him that halfway through explaining her thesis, her feet had started killing her, so she’d taken off her heels and put them on the dean’s desk. She’d shrugged and wondered why he’d been bent out of shape about it. The alumni had handed over a major check, which was what she had been there for...

      Now she was walking him to the bedroom, and the walls were turning from violet to something much darker. When they entered the bedroom itself, the colors started climbing the wall, swirling as if there were smoke in the paint, or whatever it was.

      “Oh, crap,” Sam said. “I forgot something.” She turned around and walked past him as if the apartment were on fire.

      He followed her back down the hall. “What’s going on?”

      “Nothing. Everything’s fine. You can take your bags to your room if you want. I’ll just be a minute.”

      “Should I be worried?”

      The walls in the hallway had turned scarlet, and there was something about them that made him kind of...aroused. Not what he wanted to be. The two of them weren’t like that. If she caught him with a pup tent, he was not going to be happy.

      “You don’t need to follow me,” she muttered over her shoulder.

      “Just hold on a second, will you? Tell me what’s going on.”

      “Your bag. In your room,” she said. “Now would be good.”

      Completely baffled, he stopped and watched her enter the kitchen and walk to the pantry. She opened the door, stepped inside, then closed the door behind her.

      “What, you need a cookie?”

      “Go put your bag away,” she said, her muffled voice sounding stressed.

      “Are you sick? You can tell me.”

      “Matthew. Go. Away.”

      “Fine,” he said as he wandered into the living room and waited by a glass table that sat in front of the couch. It was the perfect vantage point, putting the pantry door in his line of sight without his crowding her. There was a small fountain trickling away somewhere, which was very pleasant, but he only had eyes for the pantry. He noticed, as he stared, that the room smelled really good. Was that what was making him horny? He was pretty damn controlled about these things, but after a few minutes of deep focus, he started to wilt.

      Maybe it wasn’t the smell. The color of the walls, then? But why would she want him to get worked up? The idea didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have, but it still made no sense.

      The minutes ticked by and he considered getting his bags and putting them in the bedroom, but no. He was going to wait for her. If she was sick, he wanted to be available. Although a person about to be sick would usually head to the bathroom, but then, Sammy had always walked her own unique path.

      The walls went white. All of them, all at once. It was highly dramatic. And a little scary. “Sam?”

       3

      SAM EXITED THE PROGRAM and tucked her phone in her pocket. She hoped that took care of the damn mood sensors. Except now it was totally dark.

      Oh, right. She opened the door.

      Matt’s bags were still in the foyer. He was standing near the entrance to the kitchen and was staring at her as if he expected her to say something. Only she wasn’t sure what that thing was.

      Matt spoke first. “Is everything okay?”

      “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” She glanced around her, trying to pretend her being in the pantry with the door closed was no big deal.

      Matt walked straight past her, stepped inside the pantry, looked around and then came out a minute later carrying a box of gingersnaps.

      She should have gone to the bathroom. Obviously. Why had she headed for the pantry, of all places? “It was just work stuff. The wall-color program wasn’t working right.”

      “I see,” he said, opening the box of cookies and holding it out to her.

      She grabbed a few, knowing she was still blushing. Not a thing she could do about that. Maybe she should just wear blush-colored makeup. Huh. That way he’d never know when she was really blushing. “Anyway,” she said, still chewing the little piece of cookie she’d bitten off.

      “Have dinner with me?”

      Her mouth stilled along with her brain. “What?”

      “Dinner. With me.”

      “I have to go back to work. I have a deadline to meet.”

      “Okay. How about I get takeout from one of your many menus and bring it to your lab? I’d love to see it. I wouldn’t stay long. Just enough for a quick tour and a quicker dinner.”

      “No,” she said, her heart taking it up a notch. “I really have to work.”

      “I understand, but you also have to eat.” He captured her hand and pulled her close.

      Her hand, the one without the cookies, went right to his chest. For a moment, she froze. Just being this close to him was amazing... Smelling his wonderful scent, parts of her touching parts of him. She leaned back to look at him, to try to figure out what was going on. And met his gaze. His warm brown eyes. The eyes she’d known so well she had seen them in her sleep. “What are you doing?”

      “You’ve filled out nicely,” he said, tightening his arm around her, “but I bet you’re still skipping meals. It’s not a good habit, Sammy. And I don’t want to play a part in it. Tonight that means you’re eating with me one way or another.”

      Sam’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She felt more confused than anything. Part of her wanted to melt into a puddle. Because he was flirting? Was that what he was doing? That was the problem. She didn’t know. Not with Matt. Any other man who got this close, she would’ve been able to read.

      But one thing was for sure—her heart rarely beat this fast. Even if he was just being nice, there was a fair chance she was going to hyperventilate.

      Or

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