Free Twisted Arrangement 2 by Mora Early Page A

weak. She was struggling with the seatbelt, which had become trapped beneath the seat’s headrest.  “Here, let me.”
     
    Josh reached across her just as she twisted in his direction to attempt to untangle the belt with her left hand. They both froze as their equally sudden movements brought them face-to-face. He could feel the hard points of her nipples brushing against his chest with each of her shallow inhalations. Their eyes locked. Josh saw heat in her green gaze, and surprise, perhaps a little fear.
     
    His hand, which had remained suspended near her ear when he’d stilled, moved to cup her cheek. She’d been cautious and quiet from the moment he’d met her, bar those momentary glimpses of levity and sass, but she’d never been scared of him before. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. Not ever. He stroked along her cheekbone with his thumb, amazed at the velvet smoothness of her skin. He could smell her. Beneath the scent of fresh rain was the light fragrance of lavender and chamomile.
     
    Emma’s lashes fluttered. Her warm, sweet breath puffed out, brushing over his lips. His gaze fell to her mouth as her tongue darted out to wet her plump lower lip. Desire slammed into his chest like a fist. Josh groaned, dipping his head, intent on her mouth. Just a millimeter more and he’d be tasting that pillowy curve.
     
    She jerked back before his mouth touched hers, eyes going impossibly wide. “Josh.” Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or arousal. That made him draw back. Emma’s damp pink lips trembled. “I can’t.”
     
    There was such anguish in those two words that Josh immediately straightened in his seat, his hand dropping to his side. God, he was such an idiot! He’d fallen victim to his own hype. Just because Emma found him attractive didn’t mean she’d welcome his attention. Contrary to what all the tabloids said, he normally didn’t think of himself as God’s gift to women. But he’d just assumed Emma was as interested in him as he was in her. How could she not be? He was Joshua Owens, handsome big-shot Hollywood producer. His mouth twisted.
     
    Geez, maybe Ransler was right about him. Josh blew out a long breath and shoved a hand through his wet hair. “I’m sorry, Emma. Really. That was... inappropriate of me, and I apologize. I value our professional relationship and I respect you. I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”
     
    “It’s...” She swallowed audibly. “It’s fine. Really.” She’d turned her face toward the rain speckled passenger window. In the vague reflection there, Josh could see that her eyes were closed.
     
    His shoulders tensed. “I’ll take you back to work.” The deluge had tapered off to a light misting rain as they’d sat in the parking lot, but Josh kept his eyes trained on the road as if his life depended on it. The silence grew heavy between them as he drove.
     
    When he pulled to a stop in front of Picture Perfect, he flicked only the briefest glance her way from the corner of his eye, afraid to make her even more uncomfortable. The heater had dried her blouse somewhat, though she still looked a bit waterlogged. Even with straggling hair and wan cheeks though, Emma was beautiful.
     
    She turned to look at him then and her eyes were huge and luminous in her pale face. “It really is okay, Josh. I know it was just a heat of the moment, proximity thing. Don’t worry about it.” She gave him a trembling smile. “You say it won’t happen again, and I believe you.”
     
    “It won’t,” he croaked. “I promise.”
     
    She unlocked her door and pushed it open, giving him a short nod. “Good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
     
    “Tomorrow.” He gave her a brief wave as she shut the car door. She stood for a minute on the sidewalk, rain misting in her dark brown hair. It looked almost black when it was wet, he realized. Her slender hand rose