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into a tight turn, this sends a message to the engine to transfer the power from one wheel to another, based off the angle of the turn.  So the greater the turn, the more power goes to the wheel that needs to speed up to control the turn.”  He stood up with the mechanism in his hand.  “I’ve been working on this for months.  I think I’ve finally gotten it to work properly.  It felt right this time around.”

Kinsley sniffed and he looked at her, thinking that she looked adorable with her red nose and the mascara smudged around her eyes.

She poked at it with her finger, but it was made of steel and wires.  Not very pokable.  “So…this is supposed to keep bike riders safe?”

“Well,” he laughed slightly.  “It won’t keep them safe from other drivers.  I can’t think of any way to keep them safe from someone who doesn’t see them.”  He tossed the small, globe-like device in his hand.  “But this can help with a driver’s stupidity.  It can sense the angle of the bike, the feel of the road, and adjust the power.  It will save lives, Kinsley.”

She bowed her head.  “I don’t think I did a very good job of timing the laps, Linc.  I’m so sorry!”

He laughed and pulled her back into his arms.  This time, it wasn’t because she needed his support.  It was because he needed hers.

“That’s okay.  Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.” He heard her squeak at that point and laughed, hugging her more tightly.

Chapter 9

“Be nice!” Kinsley warned as she got out of Carl’s car.

“I’m always nice, Kin,” Carl rolled his eyes and started up the elaborate pathway towards the beautiful house.

Kinsley had seen the house from the racetrack one day.  Of course she had!  It was too big and too beautiful for her not to have noticed it.  But walking up to it now seemed much more significant than anything else she’d done for Lincoln during her employment.

She felt nervous, jumpy, and…oddly excited.  This wasn’t like walking into work in the morning.  Kinsley was entering Lincoln’s private domain.  His lair, so to speak.

When they were halfway up the pathway, Kinsley turned and stepped in front of Carl, stopping their forward momentum.  “This is a really important night for me, Carl.”

He stopped to look down at her.  “Why are you so nervous, Kin?” he demanded sharply.  “It’s just dinner.”

“This is my boss, Carl!  I’m nervous because…!” Why was she nervous?  She ate lunch with Lincoln every day.  This should be just another meal. But for some reason, Kinsley knew that it wasn’t “just another meal”.  Tonight was different.  It was more important because…?

Because his bedroom was close by!

Whoa!  Kinsley’s mouth fell open when the thought popped into her head.  Where in the world had that brainwave come from?  Granted, she’d had some shockingly erotic dreams starring her boss over the past few weeks.  But she hadn’t ever thought to follow through on those dreams!  No way!

Not that she was a prude!  She’d had sex before.  Not with Carl because…she looked at him as he continued walking up the path towards Lincoln’s house.  They were saving sex until after they were married, she reminded herself.  Yep, that’s why they hadn’t had sex.

Or was there a different reason?

Kinsley didn’t want to think about that.  Not now.  Not when she was going to be so close to Lincoln in a different setting.

And so close to his bedroom!

Stop it!  She admonished herself for even thinking such ridiculous thoughts.  Taking a deep breath, she moved up to stand next to Carl, not even sure why she’d been behind him.

Lincoln always walked beside her.

Another stupid thought.  Why would it matter if Carl walked in front of her?

Because Kinsley admitted she really liked the way Lincoln walked beside her, like he was shielding her from the world.  As if he truly cared if she were safe and protected.

Oh good grief!  Smoothing a hand down her black sheath dress, Kinsley admonished herself for thinking negative thoughts about Carl.  So what if he preferred to walk in front of her, as if he needed to prove something…and there she went again!  Glancing at him, she wondered why she was doing these mental comparisons.  Before she’d met Lincoln, Kinsley respected Carl and had felt a deep kinship with him.

Did that mean that she didn’t respect him now that she’d met Lincoln?  And was that kinship with Carl diminished somehow by her fascination with her boss?

Kinsley didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from, but she took a deep breath and reached out to ring the doorbell.  And yes, she ignored the giddy excitement bubbling inside of her.  She was just thrilled to see inside this beautiful house, she thought.  It was massive, built up on a bluff and surrounded by verdant landscaping.  There were stone pathways that meandered through the landscaping, providing several places to sit and contemplate the stunning views of the mountains and the city far off in the distance.

But the house itself was stunning as well.  It was sort of a mix of mid-century lines but with a modern, almost craftsman style to it.  Kinsley suspected that there was an architectural name for the style of his house.  She just didn’t know enough about design to have that name on the tip of her tongue.  It would be a good conversational topic for when the discussion grew quiet and awkward.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Kinsley jerked around, looking at Carl, unaware of her mouth falling open.  “Me?  What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “You’re acting weird, Kin.  We’ve had dinners with your bosses before and you’ve never been this jumpy.”  He frowned at her for a moment before turning back to face the front door.

Carl was right, she thought.  They’d

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