Page 40 of Book of Love


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“No. I’ve been happy here.” She shrugged and held up her hands. “Not a very sexy story, but that’s about the gist of it.”

“Actually.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “The idea of youfired upis damned sexy.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Were his eyes simmering with heat? Or did she have pizza sauce on the corner of her mouth?

Reading Shakespeare was her thing. Readingmen, especially one like Lincoln, was not.

“Are you married?” she blurted out.

He blinked. “No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you asking?”

“I…well, I did some research on you, but I couldn’t find anything about your personal life. So I just…didn’t know.”

“I don’t like to talk about my personal life in interviews. I guess I don’t see the point. My books should be the focus.”

“I imagine there’s a lot of you in your books, though.”

“Probably. I don’t analyze my writing too much.”

He reached out and lifted the circular silver pendant she wore around her neck. His fingers brushed her bare skin. Her breathing shortened.

“You were wearing this at the diner.” He rubbed his thumb across the circle and squinted at it more closely. “What does it say?”

“It’s a…a Mobius strip pendant.” The silver circle looked small and delicate in his broad palm. “My grandmother gave it to me when I graduated from high school. It’s a quote fromA Midsummer Night’s Dream.‘Lord, what fools these mortals be,’ which was pretty much her philosophy of life.”

He chuckled and let the pendant slip from his hand. “I suspect I’d have liked your grandmother.”

“She was one of a kind.”

“Like her granddaughter.”

Their eyes met. A light flicked on inside her, quick and bright like a firefly.

Somehow they’d ended up sitting closer together. A few more inches and her thigh would touch his. He shifted his gaze to her mouth.

His scent filled her head. Her blood quickened. He circled her wrists with his big hands, his grip secure but not tight. His fingers rested against the pulse beating wildly at her inner wrists.

Grace couldn’t move. When was the last time a man had touched her in a way that wasn’t either clinical or professional? Her whole body warmed in response to both his hold and the increasing heat in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I want to kiss you.”

Her heart slammed against her ribcage. Although she was still a bit hazy with disbelief over this entire situation, that deep, hard tugging in her belly reminded her that despite his literary awards and his illustrious history and connections, Lincoln was, at the most fundamental level, aman. One whom she responded to like a dried-up leaf touched by a lit match.

Not that she was dried-up yet. Just a bit…thirsty. A lot thirsty. Okay, she was downright parched.

Amusement curved his beautiful mouth. “Is that okay?”

Some faintly rational part of Grace’s mind knew she should say no. They were technically colleagues, and it was very likely against the rules to engage romantically with the co-teaching specialists.

Although she didn’t know thatfor sure.

Time suspended for an instant. This close, she could see the deep gold flecks in his eyes and the ring of brown surrounding his irises. Her pulse increased. He was waiting for her response, as if he knew she wouldn’t take well to him just swooping in and planting one on her.

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