Free Grave Intentions by Lori Sjoberg Page B

She spun around to find Angelo towering over her. Even in a lab coat and scrubs, he somehow managed to look debonair. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” she snapped, unable to control the sudden flash of temper. “I almost ruined an hour’s worth of work.”
    “My apologies.” His smooth voice held a cool edge, hinting at an underlying agitation. Not too surprising, since Angelo wasn’t accustomed to being denied. “Why didn’t you return my call last night?”
    “Oh. Sorry about that.” Sarah set the tray back on the table, all the while trying to think up a reason for not calling. She needed something creative, since she’d used all the regular excuses at least twice already. In the end, she settled for the truth. “I had to help a neighbor.”
    Angelo arched a brow, his expression doubtful. “What kind of help?”
    “Does it matter?” Boss or not, she was tired of his relentless encroachment on her personal life. She squared her shoulders and folded her arms across her chest. “I was otherwise occupied. By the time I was available, it was too late to call you back.”
    “Oh. I see.” He stared at her for a few moments before making a dismissive wave of his hand. “Very well, I suppose it is an acceptable excuse.”
    Like she needed one. She took a step to the side, putting some distance between them. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Angelo?”
    His dark gaze sharpened as his mouth curved into something too primal to count as a smile. “Of course. I wanted to measure your progress on the re-trial. After the unfortunate problems we encountered during the last runs, I wanted to ensure nothing was left to chance.” He surveyed the prep table with a critical eye. “How disappointing. I assumed you would have finished the first round by now.”
    Son of a bitch. Sarah’s jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder her molars didn’t crack. “The first three rounds are completed,” she said, her tone clipped. “This is the control group.”
    “My apologies. I meant no offense.” Angelo took a step closer, moving deep into her personal space. “Please, allow me make it up to you. How about tonight, over dinner?”
    She had to give him points for persistence. When it came to feminine conquests, the man was more tenacious than Pepe Le Pew. Still, she had no intention of becoming another notch on his bedpost. Even if she’d found him attractive—which she didn’t—she held the firm belief that sleeping with the boss was tantamount to career suicide. “I can’t,” Sarah said automatically. Her brain flipped into overdrive, trying to think of an ironclad excuse. “I uh . . .”
    “Hey Sarah,” Jackie called out from across the lab. “Phone call. It’s your grandmother. She says it’s important.”
    Never in her life had she been so thankful to get a call from Grandma Pearl. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this.” Sarah maneuvered around Angelo and crossed over to the main office. She set the clipboard on the counter and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
    “She’s dead,” Pearl said by way of greeting. Her reedy voice filled with the sound of vindication. “Just like I told you.”
     
    “What do you think they’re doing in there?” Adam asked.
    Through some minor traffic miracle, they’d arrived at their appointment fifteen minutes early, in time to see a beautiful forty-something brunette welcome a much younger Latino man into her home. The blinds were drawn and the music was loud enough to be heard from across the street.
    “Exactly what you think they’re doing,” David replied.
    “Lucky bastard.” Adam let out a wistful sigh. “God, I miss sex.”
    David shot an incredulous look in Adam’s direction. The kid stood on the razor’s edge between Heaven and Hell, and all he could do was think with his dick. “You’ve been dead for less than two weeks.”
    “That long?” Adam grinned. “Damn, I can’t remember the last time I went this long