Page 12 of Craving Her Christmas Boss

But her brain flicked back on. ‘Like in some sportswear ad?’

‘Sure. I’m thinking athletic. My heart’s racing. My body definitely wants a workout.’

She stepped back, broke free of his gaze and his touch. ‘I try not to act on impulse.’ She had failed with that this morning—and look at the trouble she was in now.

‘Why not try acting on instinct, then? There’s a big difference.’

‘You think?’

‘Impulses can be rash. But trusting your intuition, going with instinct, will never see you wrong.’

‘My brain is telling me to run.’

‘Precisely my point. You’re thinking too much even tohearyour instinct.’ He took a step after her. ‘Your instinct is that feeling from deep within here.’ He put his finger back on the hollow in her throat then ran it down the length of her sternum, pressed his palm firm against upper belly. ‘Your gut, your bones.’

It wasn’t her bones feeling it. ‘It’s not that easy, Ryan.’

‘It is.’

‘I’mnot.’

‘Okay.’ He smiled then. There was sympathy and understanding in it, but also determination. ‘Don’t overcomplicate things. There is us. This attraction. Isn’t that all that matters?’

Don’t overcomplicate things? As in search for more? ‘No. A lot of other things matter.’

‘Tell me.’

‘My job. My reputation.’

‘Not in doubt. Not relevant to this.’

‘How can you say that? You’re my boss.’

‘Right. But we are on the same team, Imogen, not opposite sides. Besides, my position here is temporary.’

What? So this would only be temporary, too?

‘Anything we do outside of business hours is not going to affect your career here.’

Yeah,right.

‘No one would know about it if you didn’t want them to. I can keep a secret.’

She knew all about secrets. And lies. And she’d rather have someone whocouldn’tkeep a secret—that way she wouldn’t be set up for any nasty surprises.

‘What exactly do you want from me, Ryan?’ Was he just up for a quick fling?

‘Right now, I just want you. Honestly, I can’t think beyond that.’ He lifted his hand from her and rubbed his forehead. ‘I have a big job to do here, and it’s the start of our push into Europe. I need to focus—but that’s not to say I can’t still have a little fun.’ He dropped his hand and shrugged. ‘I don’t see that as a bad thing. In fact, I’d say it’s a great thing.’

He smiled again. She wished she wouldn’t, because he smiled with his eyes and his mouth and his whole body, and she couldn’t fail to respond. He knew that, didn’t he?

‘When did you last have some fun, Imogen? You sit here all day, working very hard—and I do appreciate that—then go wrap presents for some nice customers. Then what? Go home?’

‘So?’ There was nothing wrong with working hard and doing a good job. She was determined to reclaim her work reputation and make something of herself.

‘Alone?’

She blushed, and anger surged. ‘I’ve been studying.’

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