Rock my world - By Cindi Myers Page 0,20

a station I was at before,” he said. “Big trouble. Carl was the only station manager who would even give me an interview when I came to Denver. I can’t risk blowing that. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I understand. But I think you’re worrying over nothing. We aren’t on air now. What we do here—as long as we stay off-camera—is our own business.”

He looked at her a long moment, his eyes burning into her, searching. What did he hope to find? “It’s not just about the FCC or the job,” he said. “It’s not a good idea for two people who work together—especially on air, in the public eye—to have any kind of relationship. There are too many complications. That’s why Carl made a rule against it.” He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, or even agree with me, but the last thing I want is more complications.”

She stared at him. The man was worried getting involved with her might be complicated? What a complete and total cop-out. Did he think she was too much for him? Was he worried that she was another ball-buster Bonnie? Please tell her he wasn’t that cliché of all clichés, a man burned by a woman and afraid to love again.

“So you don’t want to start anything with me because it might interfere with our jobs,” she said.

“That’s right.” He looked relieved. “I knew you’d understand.” He stood and unfastened the tie of his robe. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

He took off the robe and folded back the covers. The thinking man’s jock had obviously spent a lot of time pondering his feelings for her. Too much time.

She stood and walked around to her side of the bed. Alone under the covers, with the lights out, maybe she could find a way to turn off Adam’s brain, and force him to focus on his feelings. Feelings weren’t complicated at all. And she intended to do her best to see that neither of them had anything to regret come morning.

5

ERICA WAS AWARE of Adam lying still beside her. Too still. Was he holding his breath? Was he afraid he might accidentally brush against her? She turned on her side toward him. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she could make out his profile. “Do you think the security camera can really see anything in the dark?” she asked.

“They can see. They probably have infrared technology. You know, like nightscopes.”

“What about hearing? Do you think they can hear anything?”

He didn’t answer right away, as if debating his answer.

“They might.”

“I don’t think they do. The security guard in our building just has a bunch of television screens, showing different views. There aren’t any microphones. It’s probably even illegal to record customers’ and employees’ conversations like that.”

He shifted lower under the covers. “Maybe you’re right.”

She slid her hand over until it brushed his thigh. The muscles contracted at her touch.

“You’ve got to stop,” he said, his voice strained.

“Why?”

“I’m not made of stone.”

She squeezed his thigh. “Obviously not.” Though there was one part of him she hoped was rock-hard.

“I thought you understood why this wasn’t a good idea.”

“I understood why you thought so. I don’t happen to agree.” She scooted closer, her hand moving up his thigh, toward his crotch. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You said having an on-air relationship, in the public eye, was a bad idea. But you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?” He turned his head to look at her, his eyes dark shadows.

“We don’t work together on air. Not normally. This is a special case, and it’s only one more day. And two nights.” She brought her other hand up to rest on his chest. “You do want me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The final “S” was a hiss, like air escaping an overpressurized balloon.

“And I want you.” She bent and kissed his shoulder.

“The cameras.” The words came out in a croak.

She glared up at the smoked plastic bubble. “Whose idea was it to put that thing right over the bed?”

“No one asked my opinion.”

“We could go somewhere else. The rest room, maybe.”

“For all we know, there are cameras there, too. At least outside the stalls. Besides, what’s sexy about a public toilet?”

She tried to picture them going after it in the tiny washroom and made a face. Nothing like cold tile and porcelain and the smell of commercial pine cleanser to kill the mood. She lay back on the pillow and sighed. “I hate when logic gets in the way