Jonas glanced around at the pieces of wood strewn across her carpet. “You’re building something?”
“A bookcase.” She’d hoped to have that cleaned up before he arrived, but that had been her second concern. She’d wanted to be dressed first. A soft cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh came from Jonas.
“Did you say something?” Her hands knotted at her side, and she eyed the oven where the pot roast was cooking.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you flustered before.” His look was amused, and his voice soft and gruff at the same time. “Not Stephanie Coulter, the woman who defies and challenges me at every turn.”
“Try answering the door with your underwear showing. It has a humbling effect.”
Jonas chuckled, and the sound had a musical quality to it. Despite her embarrassment, Stephanie laughed with him, feeling completely at ease with him for the first time since Paris. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take your time.”
She was halfway to her bedroom when she stopped, realizing that she’d forgotten her manners in her eagerness to escape. “Would you like something to drink while you wait?”
“No, thanks.” He picked up the assembly instructions for the bookcase, which were on the end table by the phone. “Danish?” he asked, cocking both brows.
“I guess. It may be Swedish or Greek. I can’t tell.”
His gaze scanned the pieces on the floor. “Would you like a little help?”
“I’d like a lot of help.” A wry smile twisted her mouth. She’d spent the better part of two hours attempting to make sense of the diagram and the foreign instructions.
“Do I detect a note of resignation in your voice, Ms. Coulter?”
“That’s not resignation, it’s out-and-out frustration, disillusionment, and more than a touch of anger.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Stephanie started to leave, but when she saw Jonas take off his suit jacket and reach for one long piece of shelving to join it to another, she paused. “That won’t work.” Soon she was kneeling on the floor opposite Jonas. She began to feel like a nurse assisting a brain surgeon, handing Jonas one part after another. In frustration, he paused to study the diagram, turning it upside down and around, just as she had done, but still couldn’t figure out which pieces linked.
“Wait,” Jonas said, shaking his head. “We’ve been doing this all wrong.”
Stephanie groaned, and mumbled under her breath. “The man’s a genius.”
“If I was such a whiz, these bookcases would have books in them by now,” Jonas grumbled, his brow knit in a thoughtful frown. “Give me the screwdriver, would you?”
“Sure.” Stephanie, who was kneeling close to his side, handed it to him.
Jonas turned to thank her. Their eyes met, and they stared at each other for an endless moment. Stephanie blinked and looked away first. Never before had she been so aware of Jonas as a man. He looked different than any time she’d seen him in the office. Younger. Less worried. Almost boyishly handsome. He made no move to touch her, yet Stephanie felt a myriad of sensations shoot through her as though he had. He was so close she could smell the spicy scent of his after-shave and feel the warmth of his hard, lean body as it seeped into her, chasing away the chill of her insecurities. She could feel his breath against her hair, and she welcomed it, swaying toward him.
Stephanie didn’t know who moved first. It didn’t matter. Before she was aware of anything, they were on their knees with their arms wrapped around each other. Stephanie closed her eyes and let the warm sensation of his touch thread through her limbs. His hands gripped her upper arms as he moved his mouth to hers. His kiss was tentative, exploring, as though he expected her to stop him. Stephanie couldn’t; she’d been wanting him to hold and kiss her for days. His lips were open, warm, suckling as they covered her own. The tip of his tongue traced her lips, and she eagerly opened her mouth to his exploration.
Stephanie’s fingers moved from his hard chest and she slid her arms up and around the thick column of his neck, flattening her torso to his. His hands were splayed across her back, drawing her nearer as his tongue slipped between her silken lips and his kiss grew greedy, hungry, and demanding. Her breasts peaked, yearning for his hands.
When his fingers moved to cup her breast, Stephanie’s body throbbed with wild sensations, and a small moan of satisfaction slid up her throat. His thumb stroked the crest, and Stephanie felt her nipple harden in immediate response.
Her hands reveled in the feel of the hard muscles of his shoulder and the softness of the thick hair at the base of his neck. A delicious languor spread through her.
Jonas buried his face in the hollow of her throat and shuddered. “Stephanie?”
“Humm.” She felt warm and wonderful.
“I don’t know what it is, but something smells like it’s burning.”
Stephanie’s eyes flew open. She let out a small cry of alarm and jumped to her feet.
Chapter Seven