“Well,” said Maria, turning and putting her elbows on the desk and leaning toward Lin in a confidential, girl-talk manner. “She did mention that Angus was having trouble sleeping and had run away on several occasions. Then Ms. Cane made a comment like, ‘Angus is just like her master. I can’t keep him in my bed for more than an hour or two before he gets restless and is running for the countryside as well.’”
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean,” Lin said with a small laugh before she walked to her office and shut the door.
For a stretched minute, she just stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows with her back pressed to the closed door, her brain vibrating with tidbits of memory and the knowledge Maria had just casually imparted. She heard Kam’s voice in her head.
I wouldn’t have had sex with you last night if there were someone special.
But how significant was that? Just because he spent a couple of hours a week in this woman’s—Phoebe’s—bed didn’t imply she was his girlfriend.
Or that you are.
A blush of mortification heated her cheek at the thought. What was she, an eleventh grader? Of course she wasn’t Kam’s
girlfriend.
She was a mature woman who was sharing a private, extremely gratifying sexual relationship with a very attractive single man. Why was she getting so shaken up about the idea of discovering he had a bedmate in France?
She vividly recalled awakening in the early morning and seeing his tall, large form standing in the shadows as he hastily pulled on his clothes. His nighttime exit hadn’t really bothered her all that much at the time, and whatever doubts had started to creep in were quickly silenced by his searing kiss before he left.
The realization that this was typical behavior for Kam, that he was known for not staying in a woman’s bed far beyond what it took for the essentials, shouldn’t have caused that jolt of icy anxiety to go through her.
It shouldn’t have, but it did.
Lin pushed herself off the door and approached her desk, tossing the sensor on the blotter. She knew from years of experience of coping with unrequited feelings that there was one rational way to silence her anxieties: work. She put on her glasses and hunkered down behind her desk, a detailed financial report in front of her.
Much to her chagrin, it was harder for her to rein her mind in today than it had ever been on any occasion when she was heartsore over Ian.
K
am opened the door to his new temporary apartment at two that afternoon.
“Hello,” he said, his gaze lowering over her in a manner Lin was determined to ignore.
“Hi.”
His head lowered. She felt herself panicking. His lips brushed hers. He smelled so good. For a few seconds, her lips responded to his kiss without her giving them permission to do so. Something snapped like a whip inside her.
She abruptly shoved an envelope that held the sensor and the completed medical information sheet into his hand and walked past him.
“Any problems with the sensor?” he asked after a pause, even though he sounded a bit puzzled.
“No, it was simple to use, just like you said,” Lin replied airily.
During the past several hours, she’d forced her anxieties into neat storage at the corners of her consciousness. She’d open the containers and rifle through the difficult contents when she felt more in control of her emotions. But one of Kam’s deep kisses could easily rattle something loose and cause some real damage as it bounced dangerously around her brain.
“This is a great place. And only three floors away from Ian and Francesca,” she said, walking into the spacious, luxurious living room that was furnished with a pleasing combination of substantial Asian antiques and modern, comfortable couches and chairs. She turned when she reached the center of the room.
“Yeah. Francesca already asked me to the penthouse for lunch.”
She arched her eyebrows and gave him a cautious glance. She knew he might quickly feel claustrophobic if family members pushed themselves on him too greatly. It wasn’t that Kam didn’t like his new family—Lin thought he had in fact grown very fond of them. He just wasn’t a fan of frequent attention and chitchat.
“And did you go?” she asked.
He shrugged as if the answer would be obvious. “Have you ever tasted Mrs. Hanson’s cooking?” he asked, referring to Ian’s longtime housekeeper.
“Yes, it’s fabulous. I never turn down an offer for Mrs. Hanson’s meals, either. Did you get all your things transferred over from the hotel all right?” she asked, her manner perfectly friendly. Lin was an expert at unruffled amiability.
He nodded, his gaze narrowing on her. He followed her into the living room. From her peripheral vision, she’d noticed that he looked rugged and extremely appealing wearing a pair of faded jeans and a steel-blue button-down shirt that made his gray eyes look especially light in comparison. If only she’d known, she would have bought him uglier clothing, she thought, disguising her spike of irritation at his potent good looks.
“Yeah, and I have all my equipment set up,” he said, pointing at small mechanical device with various wires and electrodes set up on the coffee table. As she watched, Kam extricated the sensor he’d given her and plugged it into the device. One of the wires connected to a laptop computer sitting on the couch. Another computer was turned on, but wasn’t attached to the compact machine.
“Great. We should probably get started,” she said. She removed her coat and draped it on a chair. “I have a few things I need to get done before I go home and dress for our meeting tonight.”
She noticed his expression stiffen. “We have to get all dressed up again?”
“Yes. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I was able to get tickets for opening night at the opera. Jason is so excited. The opening night festivities begin at six, but we aren’t due to meet Jason until six thirty.
Otello
will follow. We’ll have a late dinner afterward to discuss business. You’ll have to wear the tux we got you.”
His expression flattened. Unwanted guilt swooped through her. God, she was a bitch. She’d made the change of plans just an hour ago, knowing perfectly well Kam would be uncomfortable with the alteration. And why had she done it? Because she’d experienced some petty jealousy over the discovery of his French lover? Or was it because she’d come to understand that casual affairs were commonplace to him?
You need him off balance,
she told herself fairly. He was getting to her more than she liked. Look at what she’d let him do to her in that restaurant last night. If she needed no other proof of her vulnerability when it came to him, it was that. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t explained to Kam that they’d be engaging in some activities that he’d find vaguely uncomfortable. That’s why she was there, after all, to alleviate his disquietude.
“Right. Tux. Opening night. Your old boyfriend. Sounds like a load of laughs,” he mumbled, flipping a couple of switches on the sleek little mechanism on the table.
“Jason isn’t my old boyfriend,” she said. “It was a very casual affair. You know the type.”
He glanced over at her, his dark brows scrunched together, a puzzled scowl on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded abruptly.
“Nothing,” she said, returning his puzzlement with a warm smile. “Are you ready to get started?”
He opened his mouth to respond and seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. He pushed one more button and straightened. “Yeah. If you are. You’ll just have to take off your clothes.”
She laughed. He quirked his eyebrows in a wry expression.
“You’re not serious. Are you?” she asked, her voice ringing with shock when he just waited expectantly.
“Of course I am. I need to attach the electrodes at all your pulse points to gather baseline data.”
For a few pregnant seconds she just stood there, her mouth hanging open, all of her easy indifference evaporated. Dread crept into her awareness. She had a vivid memory of him grasping her wrist at Savaur that first night and her subsequent fear that he’d been aware of her anxiety. Her excitement.
He would read her like an open book with his machine.
She was out of her mind for having agreed to this. Nothing could have been more anxiety provoking to her in that moment than the idea of Kam Reardon getting inside and rifling through her interior world. Her secrets.
“Why can’t I apply the electrodes myself? Isn’t that what you plan for owners’ of the watches?”
“Yes, but we don’t have a test protocol yet for teaching the customer how to gather the data. Either myself or a trained medical professional should do it in the meantime in order to get accurate information.”
“Surely you can just do it with my clothes on,” she protested weakly.
He gave her a dry glance and picked up on of the nodes from the table. “I held you for most of the night while we were both naked. We had sex—a lot of it—just hours ago. I can’t believe you’re shy about taking off your clothes in front of me.”
“Well I am,” she said defensively before she could stop herself. “Did all your other test subjects have to be in front of you naked?”
“No,” he stated bluntly. “My human subjects wore a medical gown. But I don’t have one here.” He exhaled, frowning when he noticed her defensive stance. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or not?” he repeated.
“Nothing is bothering me,” she lied. She cast about for an out for this impossible scenario, but came up with nothing. She was supposed to be assisting him in this project that Ian had arranged for him, and gathering data for a product demonstration was a major part of that. What’s more, she’d agreed to it yesterday. If she backed out now, it’d highlight her vulnerability all the more.
“Fine. But I’m leaving on my bra and underwear.”
“I can work around the bra, but you’ll have to take off your underwear.”
She gasped in disbelief at his matter-of-fact reply. His expression went hard as he studied her. Too late, she realized she was tipping her hand.
“Wrap a towel around yourself if you want,” he said, his mouth hard. She understood his annoyance. Where was her modesty, after all, when she’d been shaking in orgasm in a public place beneath the forbidden magic of his stroking hands? “Guest bath, first door to the left,” he said pointing the hallway. “Towels are under the sink.”
She strode down the hallway, her backbone erect. She tried to hold her head up just as high when she returned to the living room a moment later, but it was hard to be regal and aloof while clutching a towel around her naked body.
“Come over here,” Kam requested distractedly when she stood awkwardly in the center of the room. As she approached him, something Kam had said to her in the past sprung into her mind against her will.
What lengths would you go to in the name of service to Ian?
Apparently, monumental ones, she thought bitterly as she allowed Kam to seat her on the couch next to the computer. Except she wasn’t doing this for Ian. She was doing it for herself; proving to herself that she could handle Kam without turning and running like a scared fool.
Her hair was down today. She started when he dragged his long fingers through it, drawing it away from her face. Shivers made a web work of sensation just beneath her skin. She backed away an inch or two.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He looked down at her from his standing position, his hands still in her hair. In her sitting position before him, her face was less than a foot from the zipper of his jeans.
“I have to apply electrodes to your temporal and facial arteries. I’m just brushing your hair away from your face. Is that okay?” he asked, looking fierce.
“Of course,” she said, feeling flustered and hating it. “Is this going to hurt?” she asked anxiously when he picked up a small electrode with a wire attached to it.
“Not at all,” he said. “I’m just reading your body, not doing anything intrusive. Just try to relax.”
Lin swallowed thickly as he ran two calloused fingertips over her right temple, finding her pulse. He peeled the paper off the back of the electrode and pressed it to her skin, his actions rapid and knowing.
Just reading your body. Not doing anything intrusive.
Funny, it felt very intrusive to her. Well, not intrusive, exactly, but alarmingly . . .
. . . personal. Intimate.
“I didn’t realize I had a pulse there,” she mumbled, worried she’d disrupt the electrode he’d just placed on the right side of her chin just a fraction of an inch above her jaw.
“You have them all over your body,” Kam said, his manner distracted as he picked up another electrode. His finger slid against her neck, and she repressed a shiver. He gently pressed an electrode to the pulse he easily found there. “You have especially defined ones. That’s why I thought you’d be a good test subject.”
“I do?” she asked, her amazement temporarily dulling her anxiety. “You noticed that when we were . . . together?”
“Yeah. You show your emotions extremely well. Put out your arm like this,” he instructed, extending his arm so that his palm was faced upward.
“I disagree,” she said a little cantankerously, following his instructions. “I’m always told by business associates that I’ve got a great poker face. Ian values the fact that I always appear calm, no matter what happens.”
In control,
she added in her head, mostly because she felt the opposite of in control at the moment. “It helps in stressful business interactions.”
“I’m not talking about your facial expressions,” he said, his first two fingers running over her upper arm. The skin on the underside of her arms felt very tender and sensitive. Kam found what he wanted and attached an electrode. He repeated the process on the inner side of her forearm, his long fingers trailing something that she realized was a vein before he found what he wanted. “I’m talking about your physiological responses,” he continued. “The signs are there . . . if a person knows how to read them, that is.”
He
knew how to read them. No one better.
Her heart fluttered when he took her palm in both of his hands, gently probing her wrist. It felt good. Her sex responded to his touch, heat rushing through her. The realization that her body could betray her so easily—so wholeheartedly—left her mute. She watched him in silent anxiety as he attached the electrode to her inner wrist. He glanced up with quicksilver eyes and caught her staring.
“Can you stand?” he requested.
She stood, her legs feeling like rubber. Maybe he’d known they would feel that way, and so had asked if something so simple was a major maneuver. He knelt before her, and her alarm increased. The sure knowledge that he would be able to read her anxiety—her arousal?—like he would a document on a computer left her panicked.
But Lin wasn’t in the habit of running away. She was trapped by her stubbornness.
She stifled a gasp when he opened his hand at the back of her knee, again gently probing with knowing fingertips. He must feel the bumps that rose on her skin caused by his touch. It was strange, experiencing his expertise, his easy knowledge of the human body. Most people would never think to describe Kam Reardon as subtle; his manner and sexuality were so primal. Observing this deft, complex side of his personality left her feeling even more vulnerable.
But Kam had graduated from medical school, hadn’t he? Even though his mother’s illness and death prevented him from finishing his cardiology residency, he would have gone through countless clinical rotations at hospitals, not to mention the fact that he’d recently managed a large-scale trial of his biofeedback mechanism at a college in France. He probably thought nothing of a subject getting some involuntary goose bumps on their skin while he applied equipment, right?
Did those subjects and patients get as damp between their thighs as Lin was right now, though? Extremely doubtful. Surely they didn’t become bizarrely
both
aroused and panicked at the idea of being trapped and exposed to Kam’s knowing eyes . . . of being unwillingly excited by his touch.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, recalling in detail a complicated dance movement that required exquisite control and attention to detail. By the time Kam had finished attaching an electrode to her calf and then her foot, she had calmed a little.
“The watch with the mechanism in it will only be able to gather data at the wrist pulse,” Lin said as he stood. “Why are you bothering to take information from all these pulse sites?”
“If I gather baseline data for your entire body, in addition to the other information you provided from the sensor and from the questionnaire, I’ll be able to use a logarithm I created that will make an automatic correction for the data at the wrist. A huge amount of data is collapsed into one measuring device that can accurately predict what’s going on in the body from basic readings of temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, galvanic skin response, and a whole lot of other things. In many ways, that mathematical formula is the true key to the entire device,” he said distractedly. She just stared, a little stunned by his casual brilliance. She blinked when she realized he was studying a lot of squiggly lines on his computer screen intently. “You just did something. What did you do?”