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“Was that my punishment?” she asked, her voice coming out raspy.

He closed his eyes and took a small step back. “Is that what you think? That I have a camcorder hidden in my tie knot and I’m going to post it on that godforsaken website?”

She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, but gave up when she realized it was hopelessly mussed from Jake’s fingers.

“So we’re not mentioning this in the article?”

He swore and retrieved his drink. “Journalistic integrity demands that we should.”

Grace nodded. “It does.”

“It would be fair to our readers.”

She nodded again. “Definitely.”

“I don’t think we should.”

Grace’s head bowed in relief. “I definitely don’t think we should. It’s understandable that we might inadvertently cross wires between our professional and personal involvement. We can simply chalk this up to a mistake and refocus on the goal.”

Jake’s eyes burned dark. “That’s not why I … Shit. Fine.”

Grace awkwardly climbed down from her perch on the counter, being careful not to let her robe ride up. Not that he was even trying to sneak a peek. He had a preoccupied, distant expression on his face.

“So what’s next?” Grace asked. “I mean, we agreed to see this thing through for five dates, and I don’t think we should count this one as a date.”

“Yeah. God forbid a date should involve kissing.”

“It’s not an actual date, Jake,” Grace snapped.

“Right, because you don’t do those. Not until your arbitrary six months are up.”

Grace snatched her wine off the counter and went around to the other side of the kitchen. “I am not having that conversation with you.”

“Why, because I’m a man? In addition to not sleeping with men, you can’t talk to them either?”

Her lips pressed together in irritation. “You’re being surly.”

“Blue balls will do that to a guy.”

Do not look at his balls. Do not …

Hell, it was impossible not to, although she dragged her eyes back up to his immediately. His expression hadn’t changed.

Too late Grace realized that she’d apparently locked 2.0 in some deserted closet in her brain for the evening. A pity. She really could have used her new alter ego’s resolve when she’d had her fingers tangled in Jake’s hair.

“Next date’s on me,” Jake said, tossing back the rest of his whisky and heading to the door.

She so did not like the sound of that.

“When? What? Where?” She danced after him, reluctant to let him go until she knew what their next move was.

He turned back then, stopping so suddenly she nearly ran into him.

Jake’s hand gently reached out to grab her wrist, his thumb pressing to the spot that she knew was throbbing erratically. They both watched his big thumb on her small wrist for several seconds before he slowly lifted his eyes to hers.

“I’ll be in touch.”

He left much more quietly than he arrived, and Grace stood perfectly still for several minutes after he’d shut the door.

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