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Adam’s chest constricted suddenly. She looked at him with those big brown eyes, her expression so transparently curious that he wanted to tell her the truth.
But would her view of him change? She already didn’t think all that highly of him. But he didn’t like the idea of falling another notch in her esteem.
“They pay me well,” he finally said.
Disappointment darkened her eyes as if she’d been hoping for a less bluntly pragmatic response. Adam had thought he was immune to disappointment by now—his own, his family’s, his colleagues’, the whole science community’s—but Bee’s disappointment was like a punch in the gut.
So much the better,he told himself. As attracted to her as he was, it would be easier to maintain a distance if she didn’t respect him. Which already seemed to be the case.
A strand of her golden-brown hair was stuck to her cheek, the end caught in the corner of her mouth. Before he could stop himself, Adam reached out to brush it away.
She blinked in surprise at the gesture but didn’t move away. The sensation of her smooth skin against his fingertips shocked him with a rush of heat.
Bee stared at him, but she still didn’t move away. He slid his hand closer to her lips, telling himself he was only interested in removing the single strand of hair from her face, but then his thumb settled right against the corner of her mouth.
His whole body reacted to the sensation of her breath on his skin. If he were poetic, he’d have conjured up thoughts of warm summer breezes and flower petals.
But he was far from poetic, and he couldn’t be reacting this intensely to the slightest contact with her. Not if he wanted to do his job and get out of this town.
He’d harbored an idea that they could have drinks together, maybe even fool around a little, but in less than two days, he’d discovered that Bee Delaney wasn’t the drinks-and-fooling-around type.
He didn’t know what “type” she was exactly, but it had a lot to do with loyalty, commitment, and truth—none of which he could ever offer her.
He stroked his thumb gently across her lip. He wanted to feel her soft mouth against his. Hell, he wanted to pull her into his arms, to feel the hot, sweet crush of her body, to unbutton her blouse and—
Bang!
Bee startled a little, her eyes widening. Adam dropped his hand back to his side and turned to the cupola. The wind had slammed the door shut.
He groaned inwardly, willing his desire under control. He usually didn’t have an issue with coincidences, but this was the third time he’d touched Bee,andthe third time something had interrupted them. Anyone who believed in ghosts would blame Captain Marcus.
Before Bee could do just that, Adam stepped away from her. “I…uh, I should get back. Maybe you can show me the rest of the house later.”
She nodded, though her expression was shadowed with unease. He wanted to apologize, but for what? Touching her? He couldn’t because he wasn’t sorry. In fact, he wanted to do it again.
Not believing in her ghost? She knew he didn’t. Wanting to prove that the sightings and noises and signs all had logical, real-world explanations? He couldn’t apologize for that either. It was his job and his expertise.
Even more, evidence-based science was his doctrine. The one thing he had left to believe in.
Not even Bee Delaney could dent his conviction, although he didn’t like her wariness of him. For whatever reason, he still wanted her trust.
Pulling his attention from her, he drew open the cupola door and started down the stairs. He felt her gaze following him the whole way.
