Mind Over Matter

Her voice was calmer now. Emotions clouded things. She’d spent years discovering that. “You don’t cause anything, I do, or if you like, circumstances do. David, I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve managed to survive this—something extra all my life.”
    “I understand that. You should understand that I’m thirty-six. I haven’t been personally exposed to any of this up until a few weeks ago.”
    “I do understand.” Her voice chilled, just a little. “And I understand the natural reaction is to be wary, curious or skeptical. The same way one looks at a sideshow in the circus.”
    “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His anger came as a surprise to both of them. So much of a surprise, that when he grabbed A.J. by the shoulders, she offered no protest at all. “Ican’t help what reaction other people have had to you. They weren’t me. Damn it, I’ve just spent the night making love to you and I don’t even know who you are. I’m afraid to touch you, thinking I might set something off. I can’t keep my hands off you. I came down here this morning because if I’d lain beside you another minute I’d have taken you again while you were half-asleep.”
    Before she’d had a chance to weigh her own reaction, she lifted her hands up to his. “I don’t know what you want.”
    “Neither do I.” He caught himself and relaxed his grip on her. “And that’s a first. Maybe I need some time to figure it out.”
    Time. Distance. She reminded herself that was for the best. With a nod, she dropped her hands again. “That’s reasonable.”
    “But what isn’t is that I don’t want to spend that time away from you.”
    Chills, anxiety or excitement, rushed up her spine. “David, I—”
    “I’ve never had a night like the one I had with you.”
    The weakness came quickly, to be just as quickly fought back. “You don’t have to say that.”
    “I know I don’t.” With a half laugh he rubbed his hands over the shoulders he’d just clenched. “In fact, it isn’t very easy to admit it. It just happens to be true, for me. Sit down a minute.” He drew her down to sit on the step beside him. “I didn’t have a lot of time to think last night because I was too busy being…stunned,” he decided. She didn’t relax when he put his arm around her, but she didn’t draw away. “I’ve packed a lot of thinking into the past hour. There’s more to you, A.J., than there is to a lot of other women. Even without the something extra. I think what I want is to have a chance to get to know the woman I intend to spend a lot of time making love with.”
    She turned to look at him. His face was close, his arm moregentle than she’d come to expect. He didn’t look like a man who had any gentleness in him, only power and confidence. “You’re taking a lot for granted.”
    “Yeah, I am.”
    “I don’t think you should.”
    “Maybe not. I want you—you want me. We can start with that.”
    That was simpler. “No promises.”
    The protest sprang to his mind so quickly it stunned him. “No promises,” he agreed, reminding himself that had always been rule number two.
    She knew she shouldn’t agree. The smart thing, the safe thing to do, was to cut things off now. One night, passion only. But she found herself relaxing against him. “Business and personal relationships completely separate.”
    “Absolutely.”
    “And when one of us becomes uncomfortable with the way things are going, we back off with no scenes or bad feelings.”
    “Agreed. Want it in writing?”
    Her lips curved slightly as she studied him. “I should. Producers are notoriously untrustworthy.”
    “Agents are notoriously cynical.”
    “Cautious,” she corrected, but lifted a hand to rub it along the stubble on his cheek. “We’re paid to be the bad guys, after all. And speaking of which, we never finished discussing Clarissa.”
    “It isn’t business hours,” he reminded her, then turned her hand palm up and pressed his lips to it.
    “Don’t try to change the subject. We need to iron this out. Today.”
    “Between nine and five,” he agreed.
    “Fine, call my office and… Oh, my God.”
    “What?”
    “My messages.” Dragging both hands through her hair, she sprang up. “I never called in for my messages.”
    “Sounds like a national emergency,” he murmured as he stood beside her.
    “I was barely in the office two hours. As it was I had to reschedule appointments. Where’s the phone?”
    “Make it worth my