Page 17 of Salvage Him

I sat next to him with my back against the wall. My legs clothed in black leggings crossed at the ankles. I opened my vision book for the studio/office on my lap. I flipped to the furniture section, still not saying a word. I ran my hand down it and looked overathim.

Hewatchedme.

When I settled, he reached over and slid his hand underneath the book. The back of his hand to graze mythigh.

I stifledamoan.

Why is my body reacting to thisstranger?

He pulled the book ontohislap.

"Your sketches are impressive." He adjusted his legs and continued to flip throughthebook.

Keep your mind on the job,Brooklyn.

"I want simple furniture with clean lines. Desk, two chairs, drafting table with book stands on either side like this." I reached over, and my arm brushed up against his. This time, I wasn't surprised by my reaction. It was altogether inappropriate but not asurprise.

I slid the book off his lap and stood up. I rubbed the dust off my ass and stepped back afewfeet.

"Um, so that should get you started," I said, my eyes dartedaround.

"Well, maybe you could come by my studio, and I can show you some ideas," Harrison said in a tone way tooseductive.

I opened my mouth. My body screamed,when, where, and what should I wear, Sir,but my mind, my right mind, took anotherapproach.

"Or you know, you can email them to me." I let out an audible side ofrelief.

Harrisonlaughed.

"Harrison." My tone sharp andclipped.

"Brooklyn." He mimickedmytone.

I tried to slam the book closed, but it flipped out of my hand and dropped to thefloor.

"Shit." I squatted to retrieve the scatteredpages.

Harrison appeared at my side. I stopped in mid-grab when his scenthitme.

"Here, let mehelpyou."

I stood up fast and took two steps away from him. Myheadswam.

He retrieved my papers, organized them back in the book, and handed them backtome.

I could watch him moveallday.

A grin spread acrosshisface.

He knew what was going on inmyhead.

I was attracted to this man. No, beyond attracted. I was ready to forget my vows forthisman.

"Brooke, baby doll. Where are you?" A squeaky voice I recognized came up through the stairwell and doused the heat inmybody.

As if my declaration didn't make me feel guilty enough; apparently, it had the power to conjure my husband intoexistence.

Harrison's smoothness disappeared. He scrambled to stand as Paul skipped up thestairs.