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one of the downtown fountains, eating a sandwich and taking in the pigeons play, engaging in idle people
watching. Or, even more shocking, out with a girlfriend, laughing, having some female conversation.
Doing some playful male-bashing.
 She s not a woman, she s a fucking robot, he d heard one competitor say.  Geoffrey Tennyson didn t
spawn her, he had her built in one of his plants.
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It had made Matt angry, and he d made sure to scuttle the man s plans for overseas expansion with him.
Lucas had pointed out it was an emotional, rather than a fiscally intelligent act, and he had not disagreed
with that assessment. Nor had it erased his satisfaction in doing it. He wondered often if Savannah
realized she had a circle of devoted knights trying to protect her from harm when she wouldn t even let
them into the inner circle of her life. Geoffrey was gone, and what protection the man had provided, as
well as the damage he had done, was gone. She was as alone in the world as a person could get. He
wanted her in his world, and she wouldn t even give him an opening to make a move in that direction.
He rounded the corner, his peripheral vision sharpened so he could see if she was in her office. The door
was open, her desk light on. And she was standing on top of her desk.
She hadn t taken off her shoes, and he assumed it was to give her extra height to reach her objective,
though he shuddered to think about her stepping on her unstable wheeled office chair in those skinny
heels.
He detoured. Determining in a few strides what she was doing, he quickened his pace.
Apparently a bulb had burned out in the incandescent ceiling lighting she preferred to fluorescent.
Anal-retentive plague that she was, she was changing it herself, rather than waiting to have a maintenance
person with solid shoes and a ladder do it tomorrow. She was on the ball of one foot, the other off the
ground, straining, her right breast clearly outlined against the fabric of her turquoise turtleneck. The ceiling
was too high for her to use one hand to steady her upper body, and as she worked to free the panel over
the light fixture, she was precariously balanced. When it came free with a jerk, she overbalanced.
Matt got there in time to clamp his hands on her hips, his palms curled over the hipbones, his fingers on
the soft curves.
 What are you doing? Get down from there.
She was flustered, and he didn t often get to see that. She backed out of his hold, and he nipped the
panel from her fingers, taking it to the floor.
 I m trying to change a light bulb.
 I can see that. Get down.
 I just need to 
 Get. Down. Now.
Instead of coming back with another sharp retort, he saw something incredible happen. A moment of
confusion. Nervous tension. Something came over him, too, an instinct, and the remarkable feeling that a
door had just swung wide open. And he wanted to test it.
 You heard me, Savannah, Matt said softly.  Come here. Now.
It was a long moment. Then she shifted her gaze away from his,down , and moved toward his reaching
hands, her neck and cheeks flushed.
Still reeling from the revelation, he almost missed his cue, but he recovered in time to take her elbow as
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she reached down for him. He gripped her waist and she put her hands after a brief hesitation on his
shoulders, curiously docile as he lifted her clear of the chair, pushing it out of his way, and lowered her to
the floor.
It was a moment before he found his voice, and he managed to make it gentle, since she was blinking at
him with the startled look of a deer, not anything like the Savannah he knew.
 Don t you attend the corporate safety seminars you torture your employees with?
He saw the snap as the spell was broken. She even took a defensive step back, looked around herself,
and that familiar disdain and faint irritation took over her features.
 We fulfill all OSHA requirements, Kensington.
 Oh, yeah. That was definitely an OSHA-approved maneuver. He flicked a hand out, caught a loose
lock of her hair, enjoyed her look of shocked anger at the casual familiarity.
 I know you think you have to live up to your Savannah Cyborg image, but you don t have to be and do
everything yourself, you know.
He actually saw a split second of hurt at the nickname that was used too often for her not to have
overheard it countless times before. It made him angry with his clumsiness. And with her, for being so
worthy of the name, but only in how she closed herself off to any advances of affection or friendship.
 You delegate administrative tasks to your assistants. Why can t you let other people help you with
things? He let his concern for her show, hoping to amend that inadvertent barb.  Damn it, if you d fallen,
there d have been no one to see you fall.
 That s the plan, she said dryly.  Better to bust your backside when no one s looking. Some of the
spunk was returning, but in the shift of her eyes, he saw she knew something significant had happened.
He wondered if she understood what she had revealed, if she even knew it about herself.
The thought brought out a fierce possessiveness in him, a desire to crush anyone who d taken advantage
of such a sweet gift. He enjoyed the many faces and forms of sex, and having an excess of alpha in his
personality, he d often let the natural Dominant in him take over with his casual lovers who liked BDSM.
The idea of exercising it in a less casual mode with the woman who d become his obsession was so
intoxicating he had a hard time keeping his cock settled in his trousers. Fortunately, she chose that
moment to distract him.
 Fine. She tossed her head, presented him with a bulb from her desktop.  You want to do
maintenance, here s your chance. And don t worry. I ll stand right here and catch you if you fall.
Typical Savannah. In the time he d had two thoughts, she d marshaled her defenses and reorganized her
strategy. He thought if Napoleon had had her, the world would have undone the Tower of Babel and
everyone would speak French now. The Russian winter couldn t have defeated nerve that cool. But he d
seen the heat just for a moment in her eyes, in that soft expulsion of breath as he set her down. He d also
felt the warmth of her skin beneath her clothes. Maybe she would have melted the ice in Russia, if she
couldn t match it.
He grinned at her, fast and reckless, enjoying her, and her look of startled surprise at his reaction. He
became less amused and more absorbed as her gaze lingered on his mouth, changing the look in her
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eyes. Testing, he took the bulb from her fingers and had to grasp it quickly to keep from losing it as she
did her best to let go before he touched her fingers.
 Careful, don t drop it, she admonished, a snap to her voice.
He gave her an even look, toed off his shoes and slid onto the desk. His height helped him reach the
bulb with a few inches to spare, and he unscrewed it and put in the new one, blinking as it came to life in
his eyes.
 Jesus, Savannah, you could have turned off the light first. He took the panel from her and replaced it.
 Then how would I know the bulb worked while I was up there?
He looked down and found her staring at his feet.
 What?
 You&  Her lips pressed together, and then he saw a corner curl up in a tiny, shy, totally
out-of-character smile.  You have a hole in your sock.
He sat back down on the desk, brought one leg to the floor and put his ankle on his knee, blinking [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]