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“I’ve another idea. Give me a moment?”
She nodded.
I stepped several paces away, pulled out my mobile, and sent a text. Moments later, the device rang.
“Lennox, how are you? Have you arrived in Boston?”
“I’m well, Stephen, thanks. I’m in Cambridge.”
“As am I. I’m attending a conference at MIT.” I knew he was. “We’re on a break presently.”
“How much longer is your break?”
“Let’s see…another fifteen minutes.”
“Where are you specifically?”
“Building 14?—”
“One moment,” I said to Stephen. “Emerson, where is building 14?”
Irish answered for her, pointing. “Right behind that building there.”
“Is it where the medical services are located?”
“Yes, but?—”
I held up my hand and raised the mobile to my ear. “Wait there. I need you to take a look at a head injury.”
3
EMERSON
“What’s going on?” I asked whenLennoxput his phone in his pocket and walked back over to where Paxon held a fresh set of paper towels against my head.
He knelt in front of me like he had a few minutes earlier, and my heart rate increased tenfold—as it had right after I humiliated myself by spilling water on him. I studied him studying me. How was it possible that he didn’t recognize me after staring into my eyes like he was?
“My cousin Stephen is a physician, who happens to be here at MIT for a medical conference. Will you allow him to take a look at your cut?”
I was almost disappointed that he didn’t say laceration again. It flowed so smoothly off his English-accented tongue in that swoon-worthy James Bondy way. This was the voice I remembered, not the one he’d used earlier that made me feel like a forgettable nuisance.
“Yes,” I said when I realized he was waiting for an answer.
“Will you be okay?” Paxon squeezed my shoulder.
“I’ll be with her,” Lynx snapped at him.
“Right. Well, I’ll be in the office later if you need anything.”
“I need to get my purse…and my phone.” I rushed away from the two men in the lobby, who oddly, appeared as though they were about to come to blows, and went to my office to grab my things. When I looked up from my desk, Lynx stood in the doorway, just as handsome as I remembered.
He had to be well over six feet, with hair so dark it almost looked black. His green eyes were piercing as they stared into mine. I let my gaze drift down the length of him. He wore a pale blue dress shirt with black trousers and brown wingtips. The way his clothes fit his body, I doubted he was any less fit than he had been three years ago. Even without closing my eyes—which I refused to allow myself to do—I could feel his powerful arms around me and the way his steely pecs and abs felt when I ran my hands over them.
“Ahem.” Did his lip twitch right before he cleared his throat, startling me out of admiring him? “Ready?” he asked, with a full smirk now on display.
I nodded and swept past him, beyond irritated that he saw me doing what so many other women obviously did.
He caught up and kept his hand on the small of my back as he led me over to the elevator. His fingertips alone sent an electrical current straight through my body. When it settled between my legs, I shuddered.
