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was a larger significance to what he’d just admitted.  But she couldn’t put her finger on it.  Looking at the pergola, she was impressed all over again with the structure, with the details he’d added.  There was even a support beam for an overhead fan, so they could use the space in the summer.  And was that an electrical outlet?  The wires were squiggled out, as if he hadn’t quite had time to finish the wiring.  Was he going to add lights?

Goodness, this was going to be lovely!  Surrounded by grass and with a stunning view of the mountain off in the distance, she couldn’t think of a better place to sit and talk.

Why had he done this? How could he have designed and built this pergola in just a weekend?

Smiling, she turned and followed him into the building.  As she walked through his work area towards her own office, she noticed him flexing his hand again.  He didn’t glance up as she walked past, but there was nothing unusual about that.  Lincoln focused intensely when he was working.

Still, she could tell his hand was bothering him.  So, she put the leftover food away in the fridge, then pulled the first aid kit out of one of the kitchen cabinets that she’d found last week.  Walking back into the work area, she paused by his table.

He’d already gone back to soldering his thingamajig.  But when she stepped up to the worktable, he stopped, blinking owlishly up at her.  “Is something wrong?” he asked, taking his glasses off and rubbing his temples.

“Yes,” she replied, nodding at his hands.  “You hurt yourself over the weekend building that beautiful space for our lunches.”

He glanced down at his hands, which were scraped raw in a few places, and shrugged.  “I’m fine,” he replied.

“You’re not fine,” she argued, placing the first aid kit on the table.  “Let me put some ointment on some of the wounds.  Otherwise, they could become infected.  You work with solder and other chemicals during the day and I rarely see you in gloves.”

His eyes dropped to the kit, then lifted to look at her.  “You want to…what?”

She sighed and opened the kit, finding what she needed.  “Just let me see your hands.”

He extended both of his hands, palms up. She examined them carefully, turning his hands over and finding additional scrapes on the underside of his arms.  “Lincoln, some of these look really bad.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated stubbornly.

“So you’ve said.”  She ignored his protestations and unscrewed the cap of the antibiotic ointment.  With gentle fingers, she dabbed a bit on the areas that looked the most painful, carefully applying it to the wound.  “Am I hurting you?”

Lincoln looked down at her dark hair, then at her delicate, pink-tipped fingers.  Was she hurting him?  Yes.  But the pain wasn’t in his hands.  It was lower.  In his groin.  Feeling her soft fingers on his skin sent a bolt of lust through his body.  Damn, he liked having her touch him!  If he’d known that she’d do this, he would probably have built the damn pergola a while ago.

She turned his hands over and applied the ointment to some of the scrapes on his palms and arms, being extremely gentle.  And it turned him on even more.  It took all of his concentration to keep himself from pulling her into his arms and making love to her right here amid the parts scattered around them.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, when he jerked his hand away at one point.  “Did that hurt?”

Hell yes!  But it wasn’t his hands that hurt!

Something flashed through her eyes.  He could see the spark glowing there.  Her lips softened, her mouth opening ever so slightly.  It was almost as if there was a physical connection between them, something pulling them closer.  Something mysterious and intensely powerful.

Their breaths paused.  Pulses beating as one.  The air seemed to shimmer around them and Kinsley barely moved as they stared into each other’s eyes.

And then the moment vanished.

Kinsley pulled back, flustered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.  She fumbled with the cap, trying to put it back onto the tube of ointment.  But when the cap fell out of her trembling fingers a third time, Lincoln took the tube away and did it himself.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice deeper as the lust continued to flame his senses.  “My hands feel better already.”

She stepped back, her hands fluttering pointlessly in the air.  “Yes.  Um…well, the ointment has a bit of…” she struggled to find the word, her mind more focused on his lips than on the tube in her hands.  “Um…that stuff that numbs the pain.”

Lincoln nodded as if she’d said something profound.  “Right.  Well, it’s working.”

“Good.”  She nodded her head at that point.  Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips.  “Right.  Okay.  Then I guess I’ll get back to work.”

And with that, she turned and rushed out of his work area.

For a long time, Lincoln stared at the door that separated them.  Normally, he preferred privacy while working on his projects.  But at this particular moment, he wanted to tear down the wall between his work area and her office.  He wanted to watch her, to know what she was doing, how she was reacting.

And damn it, he wanted to make love to her.

“Engaged,” he grumbled to himself with a sigh of resignation.  “Well, almost engaged,” he corrected.

And with that, he picked up his glasses and moved back to his project.  But for the first time, he couldn’t focus on what he was doing.  His thoughts were centered on Kinsley, wondering if her reaction to that moment had been as intense as his.

Chapter 8

Kinsley smiled as she accepted the cup of coffee from the barista.  “Thank you so much.”

“Kinsley McCabe?” a female voice asked behind her.

Kinsley

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