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Jaclyn moved past him. His warm, musky scent brushed her like a physical touch, stirring memories of the night they’d played basketball. She gave herself a mental shake. She needed to focus on the reason she was here and not get caught in desires that would only tangle an already-complicated situation.

Jaclyn followed the plush, royal blue carpet past the entryway, through the living space into the study area. “Ticket sales have slowed, which I’m sure we can attribute to our oh-and-eight start.” She turned to face DeMarcus. “This isn’t going to bring in the crowds we need.”

DeMarcus propped his shoulder against the wall separating the entryway from the rest of the room. “You should have given the team’s postgame speech after we lost to the Jazz Monday night.”

Jaclyn’s eyes narrowed at the bite in his voice. “I’m sure you handled it well.” She noticed again the distance in his eyes and the tension in his stance. “How are the players? Are they tight, loose?”

“They’re fine.”

“And you?”

“Fine.” DeMarcus straightened from the wall and paced past her to the French doors on the other side of the small, mahogany writing desk. He drew the curtains back to study Atlanta at night.

Jaclyn circled to keep him in sight. His movements were stiff, his expression strained. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

DeMarcus turned to meet her eyes. “Is Rick your spy?”

She wanted to laugh. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw you running with him this morning.” He looked so serious.

Jaclyn swallowed a chuckle. In his current mood, DeMarcus wouldn’t appreciate her humor. “When I wanted you to resign, you threw me out of your office.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When Gerry wanted you to coach a losing season, you quit. If you have something to say, Marc, you’ll say it. Why would I need Rick to spy on you?”

DeMarcus leaned his hips against the writing table. “He’s a married man.”

Jaclyn blinked at the sudden topic shift. “I know. I went to his wedding.”

“He’s a married man and an employee, but you’re still having a personal relationship with him.”

Jaclyn was speechless for several heartbeats. “You think I’m having an affair with Rick?” DeMarcus didn’t answer. Jaclyn felt her temper stir. “Rick and I have been friends for twelve years. He’s like a brother to me.”

“That’s not the way it looked to me.”

She arched a brow. “Your office is on the other side of the arena. How could you possibly have seen us?”

“I’d gone back to the parking lot before you’d started your run. I’d left something in my car.” DeMarcus stood up from the writing desk and stepped closer to Jaclyn. “I saw you put your arms around him like this.” He lifted her arms and wrapped them around his taut waist. “And Evans put his arms around you like this.” The muscles of his forearms pressed into her sides. “And then he pressed his cheek against yours like this.” DeMarcus husked the words into her ear as he pressed his cheek against hers.

Jaclyn shivered from head to toe. The light stubble on his unshaven cheek rasped against her skin. She took a deep breath to steady her trembling muscles, drawing in his soap-and-sandalwood scent. The strings of desire were reaching out to her. With an effort, she pulled back, lowering her arms from his body. “Marc.” She cleared her throat. “Rick loves Mary. He and I are just friends.”

DeMarcus drew his hand down her back, bringing her close again. “Good. Because I want to be much more.” He covered her mouth with his.

11

Sensation, sharp and sweet, shot through Jaclyn, top to bottom. His touch, his taste made her scalp tingle and her toes curl. Everywhere he touched her—back, waist, hips—burned. His taste made her blood sing. She wanted to get closer to him. She needed to have more of him. She yearned to give him more of her. The strings of desire had captured her. In truth, she’d wanted to be ensnared. She threw caution—and freedom—to the winds.

His scent clouded her mind. She moaned, anxious to feel more of him. Jaclyn rose onto her toes and arched her torso into his. She sighed when DeMarcus held her closer. She slipped her palms beneath his jersey, reveling in his smooth, warm flesh. His hard muscles flexed beneath her fingertips.

DeMarcus released her but didn’t move away

. “You know where this is going.”

Jaclyn opened her eyes. Cool air brushed over her heated face. She blinked. “What?”

A shadow of a smile eased DeMarcus’s strained features. “I want you. But are you sure you want this?”

Jaclyn reached up, cupping the side of his squared jaw. “Very sure.”

“You’re still my boss.”

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