feet, and somehow, they’d been kissing.

Really kissing. Hotter than she’d ever kissed anyone before.

She’d analyzed that moment a thousand times in her head since then—she still wasn’t certain who had moved first. His arms had felt so strong around her. Perfect. Familiar yet exciting at the same time. Trustworthy. At the heart of everything, she had trusted Max to never hurt her.

She’d buried her fingers in his hair and kissed that man right back.

And then he’d practically dropped her. To compound the insult, he’d done a complete skitter to the hills, like his boxer shorts were on fire. Leaving her staring at the smoke he’d left in his wake.

Well, she’d corner him in his office now. He couldn’t get away from her there. Enough was enough.

What had happened had apparently given that man ideas—Max could be slow to act on something when he was unsure of the results. Or nervous. At least in his personal life. She’d seen it before.

But once he made up his mind, the man was like a hurricane.

It was time to deal with him so she’d stop feeling like the man’s prey.

At heart, Max was a hunter, after all.

Mostly, he hunted the bad guys. Now, she was afraid he was hunting her.

Miranda was irritatingly right most of the time. It drove Jac nuts nine times out of ten. But she wouldn’t have her friend any other way.

Jac knocked on the door to the office that now bore the name Dr. Maddox Jones, CCU2 on the doorplate. A rush of pride in what he’d accomplished hit her and had her smiling as she knocked on the window to the office next. The man had worked hard—he deserved every bit of recognition he got.

He’d seen her.

He wasn’t escaping her now.

19

Max looked up and waved her in before he stopped to think about what she could possibly want from him. “Hey.”

“Nice place you’ve got yourself here. Love how you’ve decorated.”

He snorted. He had a desk and a chair and a small loveseat crammed across from the desk, for the rare instances he’d have consults or interviews in his office. And a lamp. There was a lamp behind the desk. That was it. The walls were a utilitarian light gray. The window was eighteen inches in height and six feet long. That was it. Austere didn’t even begin to describe it.  “It’s the decorator’s year off.”

“And you’ve only been in here for what? Two days?”

“One. I took yesterday off to spend with Em. Let her know there may be a few changes over the next six months.”

“Why six?”

He hesitated. The director had made it clear he wasn’t to breathe a word about the temporary nature of his position. Even to those he trusted. To the people in Washington trying to yank Ed’s strings, Max had to appear fully entrenched and not going anywhere.

But he had never lied to Jac before. “That’s about how long I think it’ll take for the adjustment to happen. What can I do for you today?”

There was once a time when he wouldn’t have even asked. She would have come in and sunk to the sofa, and he would have immediately known what she wanted because they were that attuned to each other.

He missed that. Max was still trying to find a way to get that back.

As well as get her where he ultimately wanted her.

Strategy was half the battle, but as well as he knew this woman, Max had no clue what the best tactics would be to convince her to take that leap with him.

Not as hesitant as Jac was when it came to men.

But that was something for off the clock. Not when she was right there in his office, looking all prissy and buttoned up and proper.

He’d always loved it when she looked like that. He loved flustering her to put red in her cheeks, and get her eyes to snap green fire at him.

“Emery’s party.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a sure sign she was feeling nervous. Then her green eyes locked on his. “I’ve not missed one of Em’s birthday parties since we met. And I made her a promise I’d be there. I don’t want it to be awkward between us. So I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours. What are you planning?”

“What do you mean? It’s a kid’s party, with thirty other kids invited.” He tried to look as innocent as possible. But Jac always had seen through him.

Jac uncrossed her arms then hopped up to sit on his desk, as she pulled in a deep breath. She stared at him. “Shut the door.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He did what she instructed, mostly out of curiosity. Jac was in confrontation mode—something that was a rare occurrence. She was about to read him the riot act. He bit back a smile. He loved this woman, every bit of her. “So...talk.”

“Let me boil it down for you. We argued. We kissed. We took a big break from each other, one that got us noticed around here, by the way. Everyone’s speculating it’s a lovers’ spat. Which is embarrassing. Now, we have to fix all of that. Both for professional reasons and because…I miss your kid, Jones. She’s a big part of my life; we both know that. I demand visitation rights. I think you’ve avoided me long enough. We’ll just have to put that kiss behind us—and you can keep your man paws to yourself, if that’s what you’re plotting. So whatever you are planning—stop.”

“Man paws? That one of Miranda’s phrases?”

She looked so...feminine...sitting on his desk like that. If he stepped closer, he could wrap his hands around her knees and pull her closer. Lean her back on the desk and just kiss the hell out of that sweet mouth again. Maybe pop open a few buttons, see what kind of silk there was beneath.

He considered it; Max actually considered it.

There were blinds on the door.

If he was the kind of man to kiss a woman while on the

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