Free His Captive Lover (The Thorpe Brothers Series) by Elizabeth Lennox Page A

given her while she asked him questions about how he’d renovated this building on his own.  She loved listening to him talk with his deep voice sending shivers along her skin with awareness.  He seemed so competent in the legal areas, and yet he had this whole other side of him.  She discovered that he liked cooking and working with his hands, explaining that it was the complete opposite of what he did all day long. 
    “It helps me work through the legal issues.”
    She thought about that for a moment, thinking that it made sense.  “Sort of like occupying one side of your mind with the mundane while the other side is occupied with working through a problem,” she suggested.
    “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he agreed.
    She smiled.  “I do that with my kids.  After recess, I give them a craft project to work on. While their little hands are busy cutting and gluing pieces of a puzzle or a craft, I give them facts about history or science.  I’m always amazed at how much they actually absorb during these periods.  One would think that they were distracted with the craft materials and, to a point, they are.  But our minds can process more than one thing if the distractions work together with the facts.”
    He was impressed.  But then his eyes looked down at her lips one more time and he was once again lost in the idea of tasting those lips.  Of feeling them tremble underneath his.  He knew she would tremble too.  He had no idea how he knew that.  It was just a sense or maybe a vibe. 
    He was just about to lean forward and test his theory.  But he stopped himself, suddenly realizing that she was his client.  And she was terrified of what she was facing.  He couldn’t take advantage of her fragility right now.  No matter how soft and sexy she looked, Mia Paulson was off limits.
    “You must be tired,” he said and stood up abruptly.  He picked up both of their plates, noting absently that she’d eaten barely any of the pasta and only drank half a glass of wine.  “Can I make you anything else?” he asked as he put the plates in the sink. 
    “Goodness, no!” Mia said, feeling awkward now.  She’d been hoping that he would bend over and kiss her.  But why on earth would she want that?  This man didn’t respect her at all!  He thought she was a murderer. 
    He must have remembered that little issue and pulled back, repulsed by the idea of even touching her.  “I will do the dishes,” she offered, needing to pay him back in some small way for his hospitality. 
    “I have a housekeeper who comes in each morning and cleans up.  She’ll do the dishes,” he countered.  “Why don’t you head to bed?  I’ll lock up.”  He was wiping his hands on a dishtowel, using it to keep his hands from reaching out and grabbing her, pulling her against him and kissing her until she was gasping for breath.  He only stopped himself because he could see the dark circles under her eyes and her smile wasn’t quite as bright as it had been this morning. 
    Then there was also that irritating little issue: he had to remind himself over and over how unethical it would be to kiss her!
    Mia watched him for a long, painful moment, wishing he would wrap those big, strong arms around her and kiss her, make her forget all of the mess her life had become over the last eighteen hours.  She shouldn’t want him, and this crazy fluttering she kept experiencing was probably just because he looked so strong and capable.  And she needed someone to reassure her today.  No, it was probably nothing, but her emotions were teetering on the brink and she should just leave right now before she did something crazy.  Like throw herself into his arms. 
    When she saw the distance in his eyes, she knew she should be relieved.  She didn’t like him.  And he didn’t like her.  So why did she feel like crying simply because the man wouldn’t kiss her? 
    She turned around and headed towards the bedroom he was