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“Yeah. Right.” She was crossing so many lines. Blurring boundaries between her and her boss. And risking her heart. Her fingers brushed her lips as she remembered Duncan’s kiss. He’d swept her away from herself, from everything. There had only been him. Her body had been on fire with the need to get closer to him. To touch him. To know him. To claim him. But he wasn’t hers to claim. He belonged to his long-gone wife. He would always belong to Fiona.

She straightened her shoulders and patted her hair. As long as she remembered that, she would be fine. This was just dinner. Nothing more. She could do dinner. She’d eaten with Duncan before now, and this evening was no different.

Then why did it feel like there was a kaleidoscope of butterflies trying to fight their way out of her stomach? She pressed a hand against it. She was fine. Everything was fine. She was overreacting. Her heart wasn’t involved, and that was all that mattered.

Are you completely deluded? Hermione appeared beside Ron’s mother. This is a date, and you plan to kiss Duncan. You can pretend your heart isn’t involved all you like, but we know the truth.

“You don’t count because you aren’t real.” Hermione was wrong. Donna wasn’t deluded. She was a realist. She wasn’t going to risk her heart with a man who didn’t have one to give in return. “I’m just distracting him so that the women can prepare for the ball.”

Can you even hear yourself? This is a very bad idea. You need to call Duncan and back out. Before you regret this. Hermione turned to Molly, who nodded her agreement.

Donna frowned at Molly. “You were just telling me this was great.”

She shrugged, wiped her hands on her apron, and ran off to get something out of the oven.

Donna glanced at the clock. Six forty. It was time to meet Duncan in the foyer. She patted her hair, wondering if she should tie it back. No, there wasn’t time to struggle with her hair. With one last glance at the mirror, she hurried out of her bedroom and through her living room to her front door.

Only she didn’t make it.

Her feet stopped moving halfway across the room, and she felt as though they’d become encased in fast-setting concrete. She couldn’t do this. She and Duncan could forget one kiss. They could chalk it up to confusion and write it off as a mistake. But a date? There was no getting past that. If she went out with him, their relationship could never go back to what it was. She would lose him. Wait. What was she thinking? She was flustered—she’d meant that she would lose her job. That was the problem. She was risking her job, her home, everything. And for what? Another kiss with a man who was still hung up over his dead wife?

Hermione was right—she had to call this off.

Donna tossed her bag onto the settee, kicked off her shoes and walked to the intercom on the wall beside her door. She pressed the button for the foyer, but no one answered. With a frown, she tried Duncan’s office. Still no answer. In frustration, she pressed the button that was used to page people through all the intercoms in the house.

“Duncan? Are you there? I need to talk to you.”

And then she waited for him to answer.

***

Duncan knew he had to cancel their date. He glanced at the clock. Almost ten to seven. Donna would be making her way downstairs to meet him. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. How had his life gotten this screwed up? Once he’d been the toast of the art world and the envy of every man he knew because Fiona was at his side. Now, he was too scared to go out for a meal with a woman who intrigued him, and the art world had forgotten about him.

“Duncan? Are you there? I need to talk to you.” The intercom blared above his head, and he swore loudly.

Donna must be standing by the front door, wondering where he was. Feeling like his bones weighed a tonne, he got to his feet.

“Man up,” he muttered to himself before he pressed the answer button. “Donna, I’m sorry, but...” But what? He’d had a meltdown?

“Duncan, this date is a really bad idea. I think we should, maybe, you know, leave it for a while,” she said in a rush. “Until we’re sure it’s a good idea.”

There was silence. Duncan cocked his head to the side and stared at the intercom as her words sank in. She was dumping him? Before they’d gone out? Was that even possible?

“Duncan?” She sounded worried.

He frowned as he jabbed at the button. “Are you cancelling our date?” he snapped.

It didn’t matter that he’d been seconds from doing the same thing, now that Donna was pulling out of it, he was mad. A little voice in the back of his head told him he was being unreasonable. He told that voice to go to hell.

“Duncan, we’re boss and employee. This isn’t smart.”

“I thought we’d been over this. I had a new contract drawn up to ensure you wouldn’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do. You can still sign it. I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t need to sign it. And I thought you had it drawn up so that I would feel okay saying no to you,” she reminded him.

She was right, but he didn’t have to like it. “Are you saying no to me?” His palms began to sweat as he waited for her answer.

There was silence. He could see her in his mind’s eye, gnawing on that bottom lip of hers, trying to figure out the least offensive thing to say.

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