was unreasonably dark. Amazing. “How many fingers do I have up?”
“The middle one?”
“Funny.” He shuffled his feet toward the door, but Michelle snagged his shirtsleeve and quickly grasped his arm before he moved away.
“We need to try.”
Ryan sighed. It sounded old and weary and he could feel it deep in his chest. He wanted to find the right time to apologize to Michelle, but that shouldn’t require him to do this. It should mean sharing a cold beer at the corner bar, a couple of laughs, and a really hot kiss that ended in another kiss and another…
“Please, Ryan.”
Aw, hell. That did it. He wasn’t sure if it was the tiny catch in her voice or that she had said please. He couldn’t ignore her request.
“Okay, fine,” he said gruffly. “I’m stepping toward the desk. Where are you—oomph!”
He collided into her and dropped the tray. The sound of the container clanging against the floor was nothing compared to the rainfall of wood and metal pieces.
Michelle didn’t say a word, even after the last metal nut spun to a standstill. The silence pulsed around them. Ryan stood frozen as a statue. A little too late for that strategy , Michelle decided.
She wanted to move, but she knew the way her luck was going, she’d step on a piece and it would shatter. “Which direction did they go?” she whispered.
“I’m going to guess…down.”
“Hey!” Michelle bristled at Ryan’s sarcasm. “I don’t need this attitude coming from you. I’m not the one who dropped the tray.”
“Get on your hands and knees.”
Michelle gasped. She reared back as heat shot through her blood. The back of her knees tickled. “Why?”
“Because we are going to cover every inch of this floor,” Ryan said, his voice sounding closer to the ground, “and find the damn tray.”
A blush scorched her skin. She could feel it sizzling. Michelle decided it was better not to say a word and slowly lowered herself. There was no need to give Ryan any idea of how her imagination ran wild. Or how his command caused jitters low in her stomach.
Reaching out, she planted her hand against the floor, only to find one of the pieces. One of the sharp pieces, of course. “Found one,” she said as she scooped it up and held it in a loose fist.
“Good,” Ryan said, his voice low and husky. He sounded close. Too close. Michelle raised her head, scenting trouble. Where was he? In front of her? Behind her?
The not knowing was agony. She had to keep on her guard with Ryan. It had always been that way, even when they were casual acquaintances. Michelle looked around wildly, but she saw nothing. The beat of her heart echoed in her ears and she couldn’t tell which direction the sound of clothes brushing against skin came from.
Michelle gritted her teeth as her nipples strained against her bra. She felt vulnerable, crawling around the floor with Ryan in the dark. Defenseless…and, much to her embarrassment, intrigued.
She had to move. Now, before he pounced. Or worse, before she went after him. “Where could they—”
She slammed against metal—that had about a million corners. This really wasn’t her day. “Ouch,” she said as she rubbed the sore spot on the side of her head.
“Are you okay?”
“I see dancing spots.” And now that she thought about it, she preferred the darkness. “What did I hit?”
“Probably the desk.”
She jerked in surprise when she felt his large hand on her thigh. “That would be my leg.”
Ryan flattened his hand and skimmed up. She went rigid under his touch.
“Hip,” she told him, her voice high. What was he doing? Couldn’t he tell the difference between a woman’s body and a piece of office furniture?
His hand cupped her side and Michelle fought the urge to curl into him. “Waist.” It came out as a warning. If he moved his hand up, he was going to find out how turned on she was. She’d rather he didn’t know.
She felt Ryan lifting his palm and her choppy breath
“The middle one?”
“Funny.” He shuffled his feet toward the door, but Michelle snagged his shirtsleeve and quickly grasped his arm before he moved away.
“We need to try.”
Ryan sighed. It sounded old and weary and he could feel it deep in his chest. He wanted to find the right time to apologize to Michelle, but that shouldn’t require him to do this. It should mean sharing a cold beer at the corner bar, a couple of laughs, and a really hot kiss that ended in another kiss and another…
“Please, Ryan.”
Aw, hell. That did it. He wasn’t sure if it was the tiny catch in her voice or that she had said please. He couldn’t ignore her request.
“Okay, fine,” he said gruffly. “I’m stepping toward the desk. Where are you—oomph!”
He collided into her and dropped the tray. The sound of the container clanging against the floor was nothing compared to the rainfall of wood and metal pieces.
Michelle didn’t say a word, even after the last metal nut spun to a standstill. The silence pulsed around them. Ryan stood frozen as a statue. A little too late for that strategy , Michelle decided.
She wanted to move, but she knew the way her luck was going, she’d step on a piece and it would shatter. “Which direction did they go?” she whispered.
“I’m going to guess…down.”
“Hey!” Michelle bristled at Ryan’s sarcasm. “I don’t need this attitude coming from you. I’m not the one who dropped the tray.”
“Get on your hands and knees.”
Michelle gasped. She reared back as heat shot through her blood. The back of her knees tickled. “Why?”
“Because we are going to cover every inch of this floor,” Ryan said, his voice sounding closer to the ground, “and find the damn tray.”
A blush scorched her skin. She could feel it sizzling. Michelle decided it was better not to say a word and slowly lowered herself. There was no need to give Ryan any idea of how her imagination ran wild. Or how his command caused jitters low in her stomach.
Reaching out, she planted her hand against the floor, only to find one of the pieces. One of the sharp pieces, of course. “Found one,” she said as she scooped it up and held it in a loose fist.
“Good,” Ryan said, his voice low and husky. He sounded close. Too close. Michelle raised her head, scenting trouble. Where was he? In front of her? Behind her?
The not knowing was agony. She had to keep on her guard with Ryan. It had always been that way, even when they were casual acquaintances. Michelle looked around wildly, but she saw nothing. The beat of her heart echoed in her ears and she couldn’t tell which direction the sound of clothes brushing against skin came from.
Michelle gritted her teeth as her nipples strained against her bra. She felt vulnerable, crawling around the floor with Ryan in the dark. Defenseless…and, much to her embarrassment, intrigued.
She had to move. Now, before he pounced. Or worse, before she went after him. “Where could they—”
She slammed against metal—that had about a million corners. This really wasn’t her day. “Ouch,” she said as she rubbed the sore spot on the side of her head.
“Are you okay?”
“I see dancing spots.” And now that she thought about it, she preferred the darkness. “What did I hit?”
“Probably the desk.”
She jerked in surprise when she felt his large hand on her thigh. “That would be my leg.”
Ryan flattened his hand and skimmed up. She went rigid under his touch.
“Hip,” she told him, her voice high. What was he doing? Couldn’t he tell the difference between a woman’s body and a piece of office furniture?
His hand cupped her side and Michelle fought the urge to curl into him. “Waist.” It came out as a warning. If he moved his hand up, he was going to find out how turned on she was. She’d rather he didn’t know.
She felt Ryan lifting his palm and her choppy breath
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