Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set(77)

The type of judgment she’d expect from her father, not from herself.

“Last time I checked,” Mike said.

His strong hand grasped hers and she lost any sense of equilibrium she might have felt. His calloused fingers wrapped around her skin, enclosing her hand in warmth.

Heat traveled from her fingers, up her arm and into her breasts before settling in the pit of her stomach. Through sheer force of will, she tried to ignore the new and unnerving sensations.

She wrenched her hand free from Mike’s grasp and focused all her attention on the plate-glass window. Without the sun’s rays, the rings had lost much of their sparkle and allure. She wrapped her arms across her chest in a futile attempt to warm herself inside and out.

“Carly?”

She grit her teeth against the sound of concern in his deep voice. “Obviously you’ve seen my picture.”

Mike smiled. “The one on Peter’s desk.”

“I wish I could say the same of you.”

“I’m the photographer in the family, not Pete.”

“So I’ve heard. Are you also the family flirt?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I know I’ve been out of the country for a while, but when did casual conversation become slang for come-on?”

She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a hard puff of air. “Okay, I overreacted.” To a man who made her heart race and her palms sweat. As far as she was concerned, she’d definitely underreacted.

She really wanted to run and hide from Mike and from herself. “Truce?” she asked, holding out her hand. To prove she could handle physical contact, not because she craved the sensations his warm touch aroused.

“Truce.” Mike grasped and released her hand in a quick movement. Not because he couldn’t handle touching her soft skin, but because his mere presence had obviously left her shaken. He had no idea why.

“Where is Peter?” Carly asked.

“Work. He was on his way out the door when a last minute crisis hit. He sent me along with his apologies.”

“Lawyers.” The nonchalant shrug of her shoulders was at distinct odds with the disappointed look in her eyes. “At least this time he remembered to send someone to tell me.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. The woman standing before him was a definite surprise.

When Mike had asked about Carly, Peter had answered with a distracted, “We’re two of a kind, a match made in professional heaven.” To Mike the answer had been the equivalent of “She’s got a good personality.” Never a rave review for a woman. Mike had then sought answers in the framed picture on Peter’s desk. The black-and-white photo hadn’t done justice to this woman.

Perhaps she wasn’t a knockout, but she definitely possessed a certain something that made a man look twice. An elusive quality he’d like to capture on film. Light brown hair with golden highlights framed her face and caressed her shoulders in soft waves. Wispy bangs fell just below her eyebrows—when she wasn’t swiping at them with one hand. Mike suppressed the urge to brush them aside, just to see if her hair felt as soft as it looked. Her lips were a bit too full but glistened enticingly beneath a sheen of pink gloss.

His brother was one lucky SOB. Not that Mike would ever trade his freedom for the confines of marriage, but he intended to make sure Peter appreciated his good fortune.

“Mike?”

A tap on his shoulder took him by surprise and he flinched.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” He rolled his shoulder in a circle, stretching the tight muscles. He wondered if the recent injury would ever heal, or if the ache along with the scars were meant as a permanent reminder of what he’d left behind and all he still had to go back to.

“I asked how much time we’ve got” She lifted one eyebrow in question.

“About...” He glanced at his watch. “Another five, ten minutes, depending on whether or not Pete gets sidetracked. If he’s not here by a quarter after, he said to consider him a no-show and he’ll call to reschedule.” He grinned. “His words, not mine.”

“Not a problem. It’s nothing unusual anyway.”

Awfully accepting for a woman waiting to pick wedding bands with her beloved fiancé, Mike thought. “I see Pete still treats his personal life like a business meeting.”

“Don’t judge him.” Her eyes narrowed, flashing angry sparks.

Her defense of her fiancé was admirable if undeserved, Mike thought.

“Lawyers’ hours are unpredictable. I understand.”

“So do I.” But if his driven, workaholic brother often ignored Carly in favor of legal briefs and pestering clients, he needed a libido transplant.