Her back went stiff at the thought. She refused to believe he would. And she couldn’t believe Greg would think that, either.

“Why’d you leave him there?” Greg asked.

Forcing a put-upon sigh, she put her hands on her hips and gave him her patented exasperated glare. “He’s a grown man. He seemed fine when I left. And he’s been clean for almost a year.”

And you were the one having trouble breathing.

And there was her sister’s voice again.

Greg’s gaze narrowed even more. Damn, the man was way too perceptive. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Time to get back to work. “Nothing. I need to get moving. I have too much to do today. And so do you. You have that meeting with Val on set this afternoon, and you’ve got phone calls with John Davidson and Peter MacDonald this morning. How’s the new treatment coming?”

He didn’t answer right away, just stared at her like he could read her mind. Sometimes, she actually thought he could. Pretty damn freaky, but then it worked both ways. It’s why they worked so well together.

Greg sighed. “And what’s on your busy agenda for the day?”

She stifled a sigh of relief. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but he’d let her off the hook for right now. “I’m interviewing receptionists.”

His lips curved. “Well, damn, finally easing up on the reins a little. Good to know.”

She wanted to stick her tongue out at him but settled for rolling her eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think I can do everything. I just know I can do it better than most people.”

Greg was still laughing when she turned to head back to her office.

But she stopped short when she saw Sebastian standing at the end of the hall.

“Uh, we got any bandages around here?”

Then he held up this fingers. His bloody fingers.

And everything went wavy for a few seconds.

“Oh my god.”

She caught a glimpse of the shock on Sebastian’s face as she swayed, her eyes closing for several seconds.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Sebastian running toward her but felt Greg’s hands catch her arms from behind and hold her upright.

“You’ve managed to find Tru’s one weakness,” she heard Greg say. “A little blood and she ends up on the floor.”

“I do not.” She sucked in a few deep breaths, fighting against the dizziness. “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

“Not really, babe.”

Greg’s wry tone had the desired effect and her backbone straightened as she blinked away her weakness. And stiffened her muscles to stand on her own.

“Well, I am now.”

She forced herself to meet Sebastian’s gaze and found herself grinning at his stunned expression.

“Well, damn. Look at that. He’s speechless.”

Sebastian shook his head, sighing as he took a step back. “Nah, I’m just amazed that Miss Truly Perfect has any weaknesses.”

His statement held so little of his usual prickly teasing that her back didn’t immediately go up.

And she had the distinct feeling he was becoming a very huge weakness.

With a shake of her head, she decided to let that one slide because he really was bleeding. And it was dripping on the floor.

Without looking at his hands again, she took another step away from Greg, satisfied her rebellious knees would hold her now, and waved Sebastian toward the office next to hers where they kept a fully stocked first-aid kit.

Yes, yes. She was that prepared. Sue her.

“So, what happened?” She opened the large white box on the wall and removed disinfectant, gauze pads, bandages, and tape.

“Not really sure. I guess . . . I haven’t played like that for a while and I split the skin.”

As she turned, she caught sight of Greg in the doorway, but he didn’t stay. Just nodded once, then disappeared.

And shit, they were alone again.

“Here, give me the stuff.” He held out his left hand, the one that wasn’t actively bleeding. “I can do it myself. I don’t wanna get blood on your clothes if you keel over again.”

“I’ll be fine. Give me your hand.”

He huffed but held out his hand. “Just put on the bandages. No need to get all fancy.”

“Let me clean them first, you big baby. Don’t want them to get infected, do you? Here, sit down. I can’t do this while you hover over me.”

But when he sat, she realized he was now looking straight into her eyes. Before she could avoid his gaze by staring at his chest.

Those eyes were more blue than green today, a stormy blue that made her want to cup his jaw in her hands and kiss him.

Shit.

Still standing, she quickly looked down at his hands and had to suck in a deep breath.

“Damn, Tru. Are you really okay?”

She nodded, not looking at him. “I’m fine. Let me clean you up and you can get back to work.”

Neither of them said anything while she used hydrogen peroxide and gauze to clean and bandage the two fingers he’d split open. She noticed then how scarred his fingers were, almost as if he’d taken a knife at some point and slashed them.

Still holding on to his hands, she rubbed her thumbs over his fingertips, barely realizing what she was doing.

“You play as long and as much as we do and you end up with a few scars.” His voice was a low rumble that hit a place deep inside her. “I haven’t been playing enough lately to rebuild the calluses. Until then, I’ll bleed a little. No biggie.”

“Do they hurt?”

He shrugged. “You get used to it.”

She heard something in his voice that made her look into his eyes again, trying to get a read on him.

He watched her just as intently, then he sighed and glanced back down at his fingers.

“Look, about last night . . .” he said but didn’t continue.

Yes, they really did need to have this talk so they could put what happened behind them. Forget it happened. Hopefully.

Yeah, right.

She nodded. “I think we can both agree that last night was an anomaly brought on by stress.”

His head shot up, his gaze locked back on hers, the intensity she’d seen there last night flaring again.

Her heart began to race and her lungs were suddenly fighting for air.

“No.” He said the word deliberately, as if he thought she wouldn’t understand him. “I don’t think we can.”

She blinked. “And why would you think that?”

He’d thrown her for a loop. She would’ve bet good money that he’d be just as anxious as she was to forget the whole incident had ever happened.

Twenty-four hours before, she’d been so angry with him she was ready to tear off his head.

Then last night . . . She wanted to write that off as heat-of-the-moment insanity.

But the look in his eyes was telling her something completely different. Something she didn’t think she wanted to know.

She had to suck in another breath before she could answer. “Because I think we both know it was a mistake.”

He went silent, and she chanced a quick look at his face. And got caught in his now warm-sea-blue eyes. The emotion she saw there was stunning. And confusing as all hell.

He looked like he wanted to kiss her again.

She found herself taking a step away before she realized she was moving.

“You don’t have one damn clue what I think.” He stood, and her eyes followed him all the way up. “So I’m going to give you a hint.”

Once again, she saw him coming and did nothing to stop him. And this time, since she knew what to expect, she also knew how much she wanted it.

His lips sealed over hers with a singular purpose. To show her exactly why she was so totally full of shit. Why last night hadn’t been a mistake and why doing it again, this time naked, would be a very, very good idea.

His hands came to frame her face and hold her steady for his devastatingly thorough kiss. His tongue parted her lips and slid against hers with the express purpose of making her wet.

Her body responded immediately, as if she’d been waiting for him to kiss her again, to touch her and make it hard for her to breathe. For her nipples to peak and her breasts to ache for him to touch them, mold them with his palms.