… … …
"In your dreams," she tells him, smiling flirtatiously, enjoying the playful banter they've shared since their undercover kiss.
And before she knows it, she's been nudged sideways and he's pinned her between his strong, hard body and the glass wall of the waiting area.
"Oh we do a lot more than kiss in my dreams, love," he tells her, his voice low and rough - and dangerous given that they're in the corridor and there are people around.
She quirks an eyebrow at him, pretending she's not as aroused by this situation as she is - although she suspects her face is giving away the truth. "Is that so?"
She's vaguely aware that she should push him away; that this would look incredibly inappropriate - not to mention gossip-worthy - to anyone who saw them. But it's a very vague awareness, and she's much more aware of his scent invading her senses; of his hands on her hips; of his fingers toying with the fabric of her shirt. And of the fact that somehow they've gone from his dreams to hers.
He moves his lips to her ear and utters, "If we were alone right now, I'd elaborate."
She suppresses a shiver at the thoughts that that statement provokes and swallows hard before responding, "A pity we employ so many people then." She doesn't know where this is coming from; why she's suddenly brave enough to flirt to this degree… Actually, she does know. She's kissed him. He's kissed her. And, undercover or not, it was hot. And she wants to do it again.
He draws back and fixes his eyes on hers. There's a slight crease to his brow, and he's studying her; he's deciding if she means that; if they're really having this conversation or if he's slipped into some sort of daydream. She stands her ground; she holds his gaze and she lets him see exactly what she wants.
She watches his lips twitch into a smile that he quickly hides. "When this case is over, they'll all most likely have gone home," he tells her.
Her heart skips, her stomach flips and her voice trembles as she replies, "That's true."
He steps away from her but doesn't break their eye contact. "We'll pick this up later."
She nods, and places her hands on the side of her thighs to stop them shaking.
"Now, where were we going?" he asks, ostensibly back to normal, but she can see the slight flush to his cheeks and darkness in his eyes.
"The lab," she tells him, equalling his pretence that everything is normal.
"Right. Let's go then."
She falls into step beside him and they discuss the case as they walk to the lab. She does quite well at focusing on work and not allowing her mind to wander back to the kiss, to the corridor, or to what they have agreed will happen later.
Quite well. Occasionally it wanders. And when it does, and she inevitably glances in his direction, she finds him watching her. And they share a secret smile.
… … …