Page 22 of Unhinged

This time, her head jerked up, her moist eyes filled with fire as she glared at him. “We both know you’re full of crap. You don’t even like me. What do you want?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.”

She studied him, her expression unreadable. “Why?”

He raised his eyebrows at the ridiculous question. “You’re the doctor, you tell me.”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

Her voice was clipped, and it set his teeth on edge. He was half a second from wishing her luck when he forced himself to bite his tongue. He knew he was going to regret this, but… “I’m actually not a bad listener,” he said. “You know, if you want to talk about it.”

Her icy eyes stared into his, and for a second, he forgot to breathe. A million emotions lurked in the granite depths, tugging at his soul. He could practically see the chasm widen as her fiery façade cracked, her anger at him forgotten. Fresh tears filled her eyes and her head drooped, her words broken as she spoke. “She’s… gone.”

Her face automatically burrowed into the crook of his neck as he scooped her into his arms and sank into the corner of the couch. He had no idea what had happened to cause this kind of reaction, but she was obviously hurting. He couldn’t leave her alone.

Threading one hand into her hair, he wrapped the other around her waist and pulled her close. It was impossible not to notice the way her body curled into his where she was settled in his lap.

Hannah’s hourglass figure was infinitely more appealing than the stick-thin women who’d routinely hung out in the bars off base in hopes of catching a Marine for the night. Her soft curves were a perfect contrast to his much harder, more muscular body.

She felt delectable, and he wanted to run his hands over her, explore the sinful body she kept hidden under those shapeless suits. But that wasn’t what she needed right now. Instead, he curled his arms protectively around her and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her temple. A soft, heady fragrance wafted up to his nostrils, reminding him of vanilla frosting. Unable to resist, he brushed his nose over her hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent.

They remained that way for several minutes until her tears slowed. He coasted one hand down her spine. “You okay, Doc?”

Her head bobbed against his throat, and a small hand extricated itself from where she’d tucked it between them, palm up. “Tissue?”

He glanced toward the small box on the corner of her desk. “Too far away. I can’t reach them without getting up.”

She leaned away from him slightly and nodded, using the pads of her fingers to dab away the stray tears clinging to her cheeks.

He lifted his shirt away from his chest. “Use my shirt, I don’t mind.”

Hannah huffed a soft laugh. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Really,” he said dryly, “I insist. Get mascara all over it. I won’t complain if it’s ruined.”

Confusion lit her face for a moment as her gaze met his, then dropped to his shirt. Her brows furrowed and she blinked several times. “Is that… purple?”

He snorted. “Company called it Royal Blue. Heinous, is what it is.”

“It’s just… so… ugly.” A strangled sound escaped her throat, and Hannah covered her mouth with her hands, eyes dancing with mirth.

He’d never heard her laugh before, and the sweet, breathy sound sent a strange sensation swirling through his chest. Her laughter was infectious, and he couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, sweetheart.”

Giggles finally under control, she pressed one hand to his chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you, but… purple is just so not your color. You’re too…” Her eyes flicked to his, then dropped again as her voice trailed off.

“I’m too… what?” How did she see him?

Her fingers played with a button at the top of his shirt, and she bit her lip before speaking. “Masculine.”

He lifted a brow. “Better than the alternative, I suppose.”

She cracked a tiny smile at his joke, but it slid from her face a second later, replaced with unease once more. He hated that look. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—then snapped it shut again. She didn’t like him. And he didn’t like her. But she was beautiful.

Several long, dark tresses had come loose from her typically severe chignon, softening her features. One tendril curled down around her shoulder, dangling temptingly in front of him like forbidden fruit. Almost before he could stop himself, he reached out and fingered the silky strands. Hannah sucked in a sharp breath, and he froze. What was he doing? Tucking the lock of hair behind her ear, he dropped his hand and clenched it into a tight fist.

He couldn’t believe he was getting so turned on by a woman who, just a few days ago, had ripped him a new one with her Ice Queen act. Not only that, he couldn’t afford to muddy the waters. This first new contract was a huge deal to Vantage, and Knox would murder him if he made a mess of things before they even got off the ground. He needed to get himself together, get his mind off the woman in his lap.

Still, he couldn’t leave her all alone. She was obviously broken up over something, someone, but she seemed the type to keep her emotions well-hidden. Otherwise, why would she be crying all alone on the floor of her office at nine o’clock at night?