Page 29 of Personal Research

“In private.”

“Well, most people don't make love in front of people, now do they? And we're not friends in private?—”

“Oh no?” He cocked a brow. “Then why wouldn't you go to lunch with me and my uncle?”

Her cheeks heated. “That's different. He's my boss. And if you took me to lunch, you know what he'd think.”

“He'd think we're lovers. As we are. He'd think I care about you. As I do. He'd also assume the reverse was true, but that's not as certain, is it?” Before she could reply, he shook his head. “Your writing and your job at this firm are only temporary things until something better comes along, right?”

His topic jump confused her. “Actually, no,” she said slowly. “I'm not looking for a new job. I told you I got a raise a couple weeks ago, and your uncle's been encouraging me to become a paralegal. I like my work, most of the time. As for writing…” She bent to retrieve the pages she'd shoved hastily into her purse before leaving her office. “I finishedSwells of Love. I wanted to show you the last chapter.” She winced as he took her manuscript and shoved it unceremoniously into his trouser pocket, leaving half the pages hanging out. “Plus, I got a letter today from a fan,” she said, talking louder to fill the deafening silence. “She told me I'd helped heal her marriage. That my work made her happy.”

“You have amazing talent.”

She fought not to flush with pride at the sincerity in his tone. “I guess I didn't give myself enough credit before.”Before you.“Everything just kind of clicked for me today.”

He nodded. “With your job. With writing.”

She moistened her dry lips. “You forgot the most important part.”

“And that is?”

“You.”

He stared at her hard enough to burn holes in her skull. His mouth moved, but she didn't hear what he said, because her attention was diverted elsewhere. When the door swung open, she found herself gazing straight into her boss's eyes.

Mr. McGinty gazed back unblinkingly for a long moment. Enzo recovered first, coming to stand between them like a human shield. “What are you doing here?”

Her boss let out a boisterous laugh. “I love when I'm right.”

His laughter lasted long enough for him to glance around his office to see the destruction they’d wreaked. And apparently, for him to notice his nephew and Elena weren’t exactly fully dressed.

Mr. McGinty walked forward and picked up her bra. Good God, somehow it had ended up hanging off the plant stand that held her boss's prized Christmas cactus. “What, exactly, is going on here?”

“I think that’s obvious.” Instead of sounding chagrined, Enzo’s voice rose. “You knew I was involved with someone.”

“I did, yes. I just hoped that involvement wouldn’t take place on my brand-new carpet.” He dropped Elena’s bra as if the silk had burned him. “This isn’t what I expected when I left you that key, Elena. I trusted you.”

Elena rose and gripped Enzo’s hip to try to push him aside. Moving Mt. Rushmore would have been easier. “Mr. McGinty, I can explain?—”

“Uncle Mike?—”

“Save it.” Thankfully, Mr. McGinty backed up to the doorway. That he'd touched her bra and seen her bare thighs while she sported his nephew's shirt—and while his nephew stood in front of her, shirtless—was bad enough. “I don’t want to hear why you had to do that,” he winced, “here.”

She pressed a fingertip against the explosion of nerves under her eye. Forget one twitching. Now there were ten.

God, it's my time to go. Take me quick. Please.

“I regret using your office like this, but surely you remember what it’s like to be young.” Enzo bent to grab Elena’s skirt and handed it to her. At least that wasn't hanging from the light fixture. “This wasn’t some random hookup. Elena's the woman I told you about,”

She gazed at Enzo's muscled back. “Thanks a lot,” she muttered.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?” he demanded hotly, turning around so fast she nearly got whiplash from jerking back in the chair. “If that’s the case, say so now and this will be finished.”

“No, of course not.” Didn't he get why this situation was…sensitive, for lack of a better word?

“Then what is the problem? Why won't you admit we're together? That we're together every damn day and every damn night?”

Elena twisted her skirt between her hands. If she didn't look at her boss, maybe he would simply disappear. “Keep your voice down.”

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