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Sam slowly leans back into his own seat, and I’m burning up like it’s the hottest day on record since 1913. I snatch a napkin off the table and fan myself with it.

I must look like I’m going throughthechange,because Amy asks, “You okay, Han? You look a bit flushed.”

It’s the first thing she’s said to me since Sam and Mr. English sat with us. I don’t even know my new boss’s first name because I’ve been so wrapped up in the man beside me.

“Yep, just dandy.” It’s a big fat lie, but I smile through it.

Amy gives me a knowing smirk. I narrow my eyes at her, silently telling her to keep her damn mouth shut. She turns her attention back to Mr. English. Sam remains silent at my side, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye to see a pleased expression on his face. I’d be pretty damn proud of myself, too, if I could turn a person to mush with only one sentence.

My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure everyone can see it trying to make a break for it right out of my goddamn chest. I place my hand over it and take a deep, calming breath and count to ten.

Just as I’m getting it back under control, tingles erupt over my skin as the soft pads of Sam’s fingertips graze the skin of my nape. I whip my head to him and glare the best I can as he continues to torture me with his gentle caress.

“Stop that,” I whisper-hiss.

He raises a brow. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” I lick my lips. “What are you trying to do?”

A wicked grin tugs at his delectable mouth, and I can’t drag my gaze away from it. “I’m making sure you’ll give me your number at the end of the night . . . if nothing else.”

Oh, he’s good. Real good. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face at his words.

We’ve got some intense chemistry going on, but I am not easy. I don’t do one-night stands, and if he thinks that is where this is heading, I’ve got news for him.

I reach around behind myself and remove his arm from the back of my chair. “As appealing as the idea of giving you more than my number is, it won’t be happening. I’m just not that kind of girl, Sam.” I flutter my lashes with mock innocence as I release his arm.

“And what kind of girl are you, Hannah?”

“Why, I’m the very best kind.” I grin. “I’m fun.”

His smile matches my own. “Oh, I bet you are. And wouldn’t you know, a little fun is exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

This guy. I want to fan myself again but refrain.

The waiter appears with our meals, and my mouth waters. I do love a good steak, and this one looks and smells amazing. After picking up my utensils, I cut a piece and pop it in my mouth, groaning as the tender meat melts on my tongue.

Sam nudges me with his elbow. “I never thought I’d be jealous of a steak, but as I live and breathe.”

I chuckle. “Nothing beats a good steak. Absolutely nothing.”

“I beg to differ.” He snorts.

Shrugging, I place another piece in my mouth. “Maybe you’ve never had a good steak. I’d offer you a bite, but I don’t share my food.”

“And maybe you’ve never had a good f—” He stops himself then clears his throat. “What I mean to say is, there are lots of other things more enjoyable than steak.”

I throw my head back, laughing. “Nice save there, Sammy boy. Nice save.”

He just shakes his head and cuts into the chicken breast on his plate. “I was trying to be a gentleman,” he grumbles only loud enough for me to hear.

I slip one of the personal information cards I use at marine ecology conferences out of my bag and slide it across the table, leaving it next to his plate. “And I appreciate that very much,” I whisper then go back to my delicious meal.

* * *

The next morning,I’m impersonating a sea slug in its natural state. That is, I’m lounging around my apartment in my underwear when my phone chimes with a text from none other than Sam.

My heart pitter-patters a little faster at the sight of his name.

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