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“I guess,” I shrug, “Or maybe more of a story-uncoverer.”
Carefully, I hold the flyer above the flame, letting the heat warm the page.
Nothing.
“Maybe it needs to be closer,” Reeve suggests.
I shake my head. “Fire is too risky, especially with something this old, but I can treat the papers with a special solution, that will reveal anything hidden on the page,” I decide, reaching for my shelf of chemistry tricks. “The good thing is, these documents aren’t precious like the diaries, so we can use stronger stuff.”
“How long will it take?” Reeve asks, leaning over my shoulder to watch as I add a few different chemicals to a shallow basin, and slide the papers in.
“A few hours, maybe less. It all depends on the paper composition, and what the secret messages are written in,” I reply, distracted by the feel of his body pressed behind me.
“So … we have time to kill, huh?” Reeve’s breath is hot in my ear. His hands slide around my waist.
My breath catches, and I turn to face him. “Hmm, I wonder what we can do …?” I muse playfully, running my hands over his chest and up to loop around his neck.
Reeve’s smile is hot, but when he kisses me, it’s slow. Leisurely. His hands are soft on my body, his lips cool and firm against mine.
Oh…
I sink into it, feeling the rush glitter in my bloodstream as he eases my mouth open and sinks his tongue into my mouth.God, I love kissing this man. The wardrobe make out was hot and wild, but this is something even more dangerous; time standing still as his fingertips trace softly over the line of my hips, the weight of him anchoring me back against my workbench, safe and supported.
I want more.
The thought pulls at me through my breathless haze, as his mouth explores mine with a sensual confidence.I want more.Not just of his body, and the pleasure I know is waiting for me under these clothes, but him.Reeve. I want to know how he takes his coffee in the mornings, and what annoying habit gets him all riled up. I want to know his late-night comfort TV binge show, and how often he calls his mother, and what secret dream he’s hiding that he’s never told another soul.
I want all of it.
I’m reeling from the realization, when I hear a low, buzzing sound. It's Reeve’s phone, sitting on the work bench beside us. I pull back, panting. “Someone’s calling you.”
“Ignore it,” Reeve bends his head, licking a sizzling path up the curve of my neck, and nibbling on one earlobe.
The phone keeps buzzing.
I reach blindly over and lift it up. “Margarita Ray,” I read from the caller display, and then stop dead. “Margarita Rayis calling you?” I gape in disbelief. “The most famous actress on the planet?”
Reeve doesn’t even hesitate. He takes the phone from me and sets it down again. “I forgot, we had a call scheduled, LA time,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. “But I’ll reschedule.”
He kisses me again, but my mind is racing now. I pull back. “A call about what?”
“There’s a book she likes, maybe wants me to adapt it,” Reeve runs a hand through his mussed-up hair and gives me a grin. “Now, can we focus please?”
But I am focused now … on the fact that Reeve is a big deal. And his career is a big deal, too. Margarita Ray … that’s like having Angelina Jolie casually call him up, or Clooney suggesting they go for coffee. He can’t miss out on that.
I duck out of his arms. “You should take it,” I tell him, straightening my sweater. “Talk to her. Have the meeting. It would be rude to blow her off now.”
“I’m busy,” Reeve grins, irresistible. But now I have a moment to breathe, this all feels like it’s moving way too fast. A week ago, I didn’t know this man. Now, I’m imagining a future with him? Wanting to know his hopes and dreams and breakfast order?
A sexy fling was one thing, but really falling for someone new …
I gulp. “Go. Make the call,” I say it again, firmly. “The chemicals will take hours to work. We can check the papers in the morning.”
“Tomorrow?” Reeve pauses, his gaze searching my face. Whatever he sees in my expression, he gives a nod. “Okay, then. But you’re buying me breakfast,” he adds, dropping a kiss on my lips.
I exhale with relief.
“Are you kidding?” I say lightly, showing him out to the front-door. “With all the food you brought, we’ll be having leftovers for a week.”
