Only You by Bonnie Pega Page B

to carry the boxes up to the front, by the door, so they’ll be ready to be picked up first thing in the morning.”
    “Was that what those boxes up there were? I noticed them when I came in.”
    “That’s right. Customers send their trucks for them. I already have a box of Italian parsley, one of sage, one of thyme, one of lemon balm. And one of tarragon. They’re for The Green Unicorn. That’s a retail plant shop in Richmond.”
    “These are all for cooking, right?”
    Caitlin grinned. “No bubbling caldrons today. Sorry to disappoint you. Although parsley is a natural diuretic, and tea made from sage or thyme is supposed to help upset stomachs.”
    “It would give me one,” Max mumbled as he followed Caitlin to the office.
    When Max saw the bags of supplies on the desk, he gave a low whistle. “You actually got these.”
    “You said I needed them, didn’t you?”
    “Well, you seemed reluctant—”
    “Not about average, everyday office supplies. The only thing I objected to was the computer,” Caitlin reminded him.
    “And that’s the one thing that you could really put to good use. If you could only see what it—”
    “Here, kitty, kitty,” Caitlin interrupted him.
    “What are you doing?”
    “I’m calling Charlemagne. Now that I know he’s an attack cat, I’m going to train him to get you every time you mention computers in that besotted tone of voice.”
    “Besotted!” Max protested. “What do you mean, besotted?”
    “Just what I said. You start going on about computers in the same reverent voice that Jordan uses when he talks about his favorite baseball player.”
    “I do not!”
    Caitlin smiled. “Oh, yes, you dooooo,” she singsonged.
    “Oh, no, I dooon’t,” Max sang back, and took a step toward her.
    “Do too!” she teased.
    “Do not!” He took another step toward her.
    “Too!”
    “Not!” Max took one more step, then placed his hands on the desk, one on either side of her, effectively trapping her. His eyes greedily fastened on her mouth.
    “I am not besotted with computers,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “The only thing I seem to be besotted with these days is a pint-sized angel with golden curls and chocolate-brown eyes.” He lowered his head and feathered soft kisses across her cheek to her mouth.
    “No—” was all Caitlin got out before his lips moved over hers. As delicate as a baby’s touch, as warm as a summer day, his lips seduced until hers softened in surrender.
    Caitlin quivered at the hot, weak feeling that suffused her. Her hands fluttered up and lay, open-palmed, on his chest. Her mouth opened to the persistent urging of his tongue, and with a groan of triumph he moved in to explore this new territory as his arms tightened around her.
    One minute she was feeling the heat of his body,the beating of his heart. The next, her private demon infused her hands with the strength necessary to push him away.
    Max stared at her for a long moment before he realized that it was terror, not passion, that glazed her eyes. Her lips had tasted so sweet, so right, and only the blind panic that flared in her unseeing gaze kept Max from pulling her back. He took a deep breath, realizing that he’d crossed some invisible barrier.
    The fear on her face ate at him like acid, and he knew he had to do something to ease it. He tentatively reached out a hand and ran his fingers gently down her cheek, all the while murmuring reassurances. He wasn’t even sure what he said, but it didn’t seem to matter.
    After a minute or two Caitlin blinked and gave a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was a choked whisper, and a dull flush crept up her cheeks. “I’m all right.”
    “You want to talk about it, Cait?” Max’s voice was steady. Amazing, he thought, considering the confusion inside.
    Caitlin shook her head vigorously, refusing to meet his eyes. “No.”
    “For God’s sake! What happened to you? Who did this to you?” The words burst out