Beguiling the Boss. Joan HohlЧитать онлайн книгу.
used at her previous job. She told him the machine was new to her, so he began with the basics. He had drawn another chair up to the desk next to him. They were so close that whenever he turned to explain something to her, or she leaned in to get a closer look at the data on the screen, their thighs briefly brushed against each other.
It was purely accidental and yet Jen felt a quiver of awareness when his hard thigh touched her soft one.
He smelled good, and not of the cologne she’d seen in his bedroom. Jen wished she had noticed the smell of his woodsy soap and his natural musky male scent earlier while they’d cleared away the breakfast things, so she could have been prepared. Now, here, sitting so close to him, his scent enveloped her. And it wasn’t a bad thing—not at all.
Yanking her mind away from Marsh and back to the business at hand, she reached across him with her right arm to point at data on the screen she didn’t understand. At the same time, he lifted his hand, his forearm brushing over her breast.
For an instant they both froze. She pulled her arm back, he dropped his hand. Jen tingled all the way down to her toenails.
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