of going where anyone can see me is unimaginable, so I’m determined to hold it until I have some privacy.
I lower myself gingerly to the narrow bunk. What if no one comes for me? What if Northrup reports the car stolen? What if I have no choice but to call my parents to bail me out? The thought of them coming to get me here has my stomach surging with nausea.
I have no idea how long I’m there. Judging by the discomfort coming from my overtaxed bladder, it has to be more than an hour.
The tingling sensation that dances over my skin is the first indication that Jason Northrup has materialized outside my cell. I have my own cell. Awesome.
“Fancy meeting you here.” He flashes the sexy grin that made my heart race and my panties go damp earlier.
I’m in the biggest fight with my heart and my panties.
I jump to my feet, which I immediately regret thanks to the aforementioned bladder situation. “I didn’t steal your car.”
“Then how’d it end up getting impounded on I-95?”
“I gave Betty a ride to the airport. You told me to take care of her. She said her flight was at ten thirty. If I’d called a cab or Uber, she would’ve missed the flight.”
His eyes drop to my chest, and just like that my nipples react.
Now I’m in a fight with them, too.
He returns his golden-eyed gaze to my face. “What happened to your jacket?”
Okay, so he was looking at the stain the portfolio left and not at my breasts. Try telling my breasts that. “Industrial accident.”
His eyebrows come together in a stern expression that’s just as sexy as all his other expressions. “And why are you dancing around like you’ve got ants in your pants?”
“Because.” I can’t believe I’m going to have to say these words to him, of all people. “I have to pee, if you must know.”
He glances at the toilet in the cell and then at me.
“Not happening. Tell me you brought my purse so I can get out of here.”
He points to the purse tucked under his arm, which I hadn’t noticed.
A guard materializes and unlocks the cell door.
I’m so anxious to get out of there that I bolt forward and tilt awkwardly on my heel.
Northrup reaches out to stop me from falling, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I nearly lose control of my bladder.
“Please find me a bathroom with a door.”
He takes me by the elbow and steers me through the corridors to a restroom in the lobby.
I have to go so badly I don’t take the time to contemplate the wisdom of allowing him to touch me, but my body has plenty to say about it. Tingling, goose bumps, pebbling, moistening. And all he did was place his hand on my elbow. This is not good—and it’s so, so bizarre. I’ve never in my life reacted to anyone the way I do to him, and that makes me doubly mad. My late, beloved husband deserves far more respect than what he’s been getting from me since Jason Northrup showed up.
In the restroom, I manage to tear my hose in the urgent quest for relief. Afterward, at the sink, I catch only a brief glance of myself in the mirror, but it’s enough to see wild, frizzy dark hair thanks to a convertible and the South Florida humidity.
Resting my hands on the sink, I take a moment to gather myself, to summon the fortitude to resist the ridiculous attraction to Dr. Jason Northrup, who is so not my type it’s not even funny, and prepare to face my new coworkers after a brief stint in jail. Hell of a way to start a new job.
My reaction to him has me rattled. It’s been years since I’ve experienced anything resembling desire. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.
Tony has been gone so long sometimes it feels like we happened in a dream. The memories of him and the time we had together are fading with the passage of time, as much as I wish that wasn’t the case. I’m terrified of forgetting him, and my reaction to Dr. Northrup makes me feel disloyal to the man who loved me with his whole heart.
I can’t be attracted to Jason Northrup. Not like that. He’s a professional colleague, and thus off-limits.
Besides, any guy who looks like him, drives a car like his and carries the title of “brain surgeon” has to be the romance equivalent of poison ivy. It