| A chill ran up her spine. The touch of eyes caressing the small of her back made her shiver. She quickly turned and there he sat, in his cubicle, engrossed in blue-penciling. Then, just as she had known they would, his icy-blue eyes rose and bored into hers. He raised his dark eyebrows a fraction, inquiring. She turned and hurried on - blushing. The man always had that affect on her. Something about him disconcerted her. He always seemed to focus on her, to pay attention, when he was near her. None of the other men in the firm did that. Oh, men flirted with her sometimes, none of the others seemed to see beneath her surface, to be reading her secret thoughts. She always felt as though he could see the shameful secrets of her past. (But of course, there were no shameful secrets in her past.) "Miss White?" His saxophone voice seized the back of the neck. She froze. Then his hand touched her arm. The hair on her arms rose and her scalped crawled. "You d...
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