"Did you get the agreement notarized?"


    A tangled knot of emotions tightened in Timothy''s chest.


    So that was why she''de to collect the notarization receipt?


    "You seem awfully eager about this," he said.


    Jessica nodded.


    "You really don''t trust me, do you?" His voice was cool, almost detached.


    She didn''t deny it. She couldn''t. Time was a luxury he had a lifetime, perhaps. She only had six months left. She couldn''t afford to waste even a day.


    Jessica stayed silent.


    Timothy''s handsome face was unreadable, his eyes clouded with something distant.


    Her silence said it all.


    He pulled back thepel of his suit and took his phone from the inside pocket, dialing thewyer.


    "Is the agreement notarized?"


    "It''s done."


    "Send the receipt to my office."


    Timothy put his phone away, turning to meet Jessica''s icy, imprable stare. Lips pressed in a thin line, he crossed to the desk and picked up the phone, dialing his secretary.


    "Bring in a ss of fresh orange juice."


    Jessica''s eyshes fluttered.


    Timothy set the receiver down and leaned against the desk, quietly studying her.


    It was just past ten in the morning. Sunlight spilled golden across the office, but even that couldn''t chase away the coldness hanging in the air.


    Click-


    The faint sound made Jessica look up.


    Timothy had flicked his lighter, and the tip of his cigarette glowed as smoke driftedzily from his lips. The subtle, woodsy scent curled through the room, deepening the air of mystery that seemed to surround him these days, making him only more dangerously attractive.


    But she still couldn''t read him.


    A knock at the door broke the tense silence.


    "Come in," Timothy called.


    Secretary Allen entered, carrying a ss of orange juice, and set it down beside Jessica, politely saying, "Here you go, ma''am."


    At that moment, thewyer arrived, handing over a notarization receipt.


    "All set, Mr. Lawson."


    "Give it to her."


    Jessica took the slip, nced at it, and, once they''d both left, slipped it into her bag and stood to go.


    "Your lips are chapped. Drink the juice before you leave," Timothy''s deep voice called from behind her.


    She didn''t want to make a scene, so she picked up the ss.


    "Are you nning to disappear tonight? nning not toe home?"


    The ss slipped from Jessica''s hand, crashing to the floor. Orange juice and shards of ss sttered across the carpet.


    He knew.


    Timothy stepped toward her, tilting her chin up with a long finger. His refined features were so close, just a breath away. "Did I hit a nerve? Is that why you''re so jumpy?"


    His breath washed over her, warm andced with that distinctive smoky scent. Jessica was always a little on edge around him, afraid that if she didn''t escape now, Timothy would find some way to drag her back home.


    Suddenly, he let her go, taking a drag of his cigarette. Smoke curled around her face.


    He stubbed out the cigarette, then caught her by the waist and pressed her down onto the sofa.


    His eyes were cold, sharp as a knife''s gleam.


    "Answer me. Are you?"


    His grip pinned her, leaving her unable to sign or gesture.


    She pressed her lips together, trying to push him away. He bent down and kissed her-hard.


    She shoved at his chest, fists pounding in panic.


    A sharp hiss escaped Timothy as he released her.


    Jessica''s gaze darted to the bandage at his neck, now stained red.


    She''d struck his wound by ident.


    Timothy''s brows drew tight with pain, jaw clenched, his hand hovering near his neck before falling to his side.