Page 20 of Stripe Theory

“It’s fine.” She adjusted settings, trying to ignore how he positioned himself between her and the potentially unstable equipment. “Just needs a little calibration.”

“The last time you said that we got purple smoke.”

“And valuable data.” She spun to face him, forgetting about personal space. “Sometimes the best discoveries come from unexpected reactions.”

His eyes darkened. “Is that what you call this?”

“Call what?”

“This... reaction.” His voice dropped lower, sending shivers down her spine. “Between us.”

Oh. Oh. They were having this conversation now? Here? With Maya pretending not to eavesdrop while badly hiding behind a filing cabinet?

The centrifuge chose that moment to emit an alarming whirr. Alora turned back quickly, grateful for the distraction. “It’s not... I mean, we’re not... This is professional.”

“Professional,” he repeated, the word rumbling in his chest. “Like dinner was professional?”

“Exactly! Well, except for Mom’s questions about mating habits. And Dad’s interrogation. And the grandchildren thing...” She rambled faster as she adjusted knobs. “But otherwise, completely professional. Like this experiment, which is going to work perfectly?—”

The centrifuge gave one final dramatic click and exploded.

Not a large explosion—more of a mechanical protest that sent glass tubes flying and released a cloud of smoke. But Rehan’s reaction proved instantaneous. One moment she stood by the machine; the next, she found herself crushed against his chest, his body shielding her from the minor chaos.

His heart thundered under her palms. His scent surrounded her, wild and intoxicating. Heat radiated between them, making it hard to think about anything except how perfectly she fit against him.

“Are you hurt?” His voice came out more growl than words.

“I’m fine.” She should step back. Definitely should maintain that professional distance they kept talking about. But her body apparently had other ideas, because she found herself clutching his sweater instead. “Though we should probably check the samples...”

“The samples can wait.” His arms tightened fractionally. “You could have been injured.”

“It was just a little smoke!”

“You take too many risks.”

“Says the man who literally turns into an apex predator.”

A sound escaped him—half laugh, half growl. The vibration of it against her palms did interesting things to her insides.

“Um, guys?” Maya’s voice cut through the tension. “Not that this isn’t adorable, but the smoke alarm’s about to?—”

The sprinklers activated, dousing them all in a fine mist.

Water cascaded down, transforming Rehan’s perfect sweater into something that should be illegal in all fifty states. The fabric clung to every muscle, and Alora’s brain temporarily short-circuited at the view.

“The samples!” She tried to pull away, but his arms remained locked around her. “They’ll be ruined!”

“They’re sealed.” His voice roughened as he looked down at her, droplets clinging to his eyelashes. “Unlike your paperwork.”

Right. The papers now decorated the lab in soggy colorful confetti. Her lab coat dripped, tiger patches running slightly in the artificial rain.

Maya sloshed toward the control panel, typing commands to shut off the sprinklers. “You know, when I said you two needed to cool off, this wasn’t quite what I meant.”

FIFTEEN

The water stopped, leaving them standing in puddles. Alora became acutely aware that her dress, while professional, hadn’t been designed for impromptu lab showers. From the way Rehan’s pupils dilated, he noticed too.

“I should...” She gestured vaguely at her soaked state.

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