She probably should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was simply time to let the hormones do their thing. They’d sure been bugging her enough. So she relaxed against Josh, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to every erotic sensation pouring through her.
He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. She went willingly, closing those last few inches separating them. She parted her lips and he swept inside, touching her tongue with his.
Desire raced through her. She could barely keep herself from begging. He tasted like the chocolate mints that were left on her pillow every night and something a little stronger. Maybe Scotch.
She burned inside, the need bigger than she’d imagined possible. Her br**sts ached. That place between her thighs was swollen with need. Even as she kissed him back, stroking, learning, yielding, she wanted to ease him closer to her room. She wanted him naked, inside of her, taking her just as hard as she took him.
The image was so clear, it was if they were already together. Muscles tensed in anticipation of her release. Her reaction was so powerful, it frightened her and she drew back. A heartbeat later, the lights went on.
They were in the third floor hallway. A few people stood in their doorways, and they applauded the return of modern life. Charity could only stare into Josh’s hazel-green eyes, wondering if hers were as bright, as filled with passion.
She knew what he was going to say. Or ask. Both their rooms were only a few feet away. But as much as she wanted him, she knew she couldn’t be one of the millions. Not and still have a little pride in the morning. Turning him down seemed impossible, so she did the only thing that made sense. She ran to her room and hurried inside. Then she stood with her back to the door and waited for her heart beat to finally slow to normal.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARSHA WALKED INTO Charity’s office shaking her head. “I know, I know. I’m late. I was meeting with Tiffany.” Marsha sank into the chair opposite Charity’s desk and groaned. “I swear, that girl.” She waved a piece of paper. “All the people she wants to meet with, and she would love for me to make the introductions.”
Charity did her best not to laugh. “I know it’s difficult.”
“It’s beyond difficult. It’s humiliating to have our town’s problems featured in her thesis.”
“At least we’re only a chapter.”
“I know and I should be grateful, but there’s a part of me that wants to ask why we’re not good enough to be an entire book. Which is crazy. I must need medication.” She drew in a breath. “All right. Enough about Tiffany. How are you?”
“Better than you. I was going to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. Do you want something?”
“A martini. Which I happen to know we don’t stock. I’ll take an iced tea.” She raised her hand, then set it back on her lap. “I don’t have my purse with me.”
“My treat. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you. I’ll sit here and practice my breathing in attempt to get my blood pressure below a thousand.”
Charity left her office and walked toward the vending machine. She hadn’t personally spent any time with Tiffany but she’d heard the grad student’s questions could be probing at best and a little annoying at worst.
She put the money into the vending machine and collected the drinks, then returned to her office.
“Thank you,” Marsha said gratefully as she took the bottle. “Is that outfit new? I really like the skirt.”
Charity told herself to simply accept the compliment without an explanation. Or at least not a detailed one. Her boss didn’t need to know about her realization that she’d spent the past couple of years totally ignoring her appearance.
“I drove to Sacramento and did some shopping over the weekend.”
The black pencil skirt was still professional, but it ended a couple of inches above her knees rather than five inches below. The pumps had a thinner heel and were about an inch higher than what she had been wearing. She’d had the white blouse for about a year, but it was fairly classic. Hanging on the back of her chair was the new cropped black-and-white pinstripe jacket. The tailored style emphasized her waist and made her feel both feminine and powerful.
“You look great. I’ve always had a fondness for clothing. I had a thing for leather for years, but I’m too old now. I would simply frighten people if I showed up in leather pants or, God forbid, fringe.”
Charity laughed as she sat down at her desk. “You could start a trend.”
“I’ll leave that to those of you still under thirty. Anyway, tell me how things are going. Do we have any new businesses moving here so I can tell Tiffany we’re no longer thesis worthy?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I’ve been in touch with the hospital committee and they were very impressed. They’ve dropped one site completely, so now it’s down to us and one other contender. They’ll want to send a few different people to explore the town and see what we have to offer. I’m already putting together different tours.”
“A hospital. That would be impressive.”
“It was on your to-do list.”