TEMPTED BY HER BOSS by Scarlet Wilson

him with that deep colour.
    Grace Barclay had attracted his attention before. But the Grace Barclay standing in front of him now was stunning.
    Her case trundled to a stop and her face fell as she glanced at her companions. ‘Are you ready to go?’
    Donovan could sense her discomfort. It was just after eleven at night and she was dressed as if she were going to a power meeting in the office. He and the rest of the guys were dressed in jeans and baseball hats. He could curse. He should have given her a heads up about what dress code was expected on field assignments. He only hoped her heavy-duty case—that looked as if it held three weeks’ worth of clothes—wasn’t filled with suits and stiletto heels. They wouldn’t be any use where they were going.
    He was normally so good at this sort of thing. When he’d recruited anyone to his team in the past he’d always had a meeting with them, giving them a printed list of essential equipment for field assignments and some basic instructions about wherever they were travelling.
    What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he done the same for Grace?
    The little voice in his head wasted no time in telling him. None of the other recruits were naked in the shower with you .
    He took a deep breath and swung his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘We like to travel light, Grace, so there’s no waiting around at the other side.’ He gestured towards her case. ‘Sorry, I should have given you a heads up. We’ll spend most of our time in scrubs and they’ve been sent on with the rest of the equipment.’
    She looked down at the huge case. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise.’ She glanced at the rest of team’s rucksacks. ‘It’s okay, guys. When we land you go on ahead. I’ll wait for my case and meet you there.’
    Dave shook his head. ‘Oh, no, we don’t mind waiting for you, Grace.’ His voice was almost a drawl. Donovan shot him a look as the check-in girl gave him a nod.
    ‘Hand over your passports. We’ll get our seats allocated and head to the departure gate.’ He signed a few forms about their other equipment, as Grace rustled through her leather bag for her passport.
    Her scent was drifting up around his nostrils. Something new. Not like the perfume she’d been wearing as they’d hit the shower. This smelt like vanilla. The kind of cupcakes his mother had baked when he was a boy. She smelt good enough to eat.
    She finally found her passport and pulled it from her bag. ‘Sorry, Donovan.’ She looked down at her clothes. ‘I just assumed that because we were on business for the DPA it would still be office wear.’ She tilted her head to the side, giving him a view of her smooth skin and a rueful smile. ‘No matter what time of the day or night. But, hey, I guess we learn something new every day.’
    She heaved her case up onto the check-in conveyer belt. There was no way this could be mistaken for carryon luggage.
    He handed over the passports to the beautiful blonde desk clerk, who didn’t look too impressed that she was being ignored. ‘I guess we do,’ he replied.
    She had no idea how true those words were. He was trying to work out why he hadn’t got a handle on Grace Barclay seven months ago. He’d noticed her, and had meant to find out more. But Donovan was a work first kind of guy. He didn’t like things to interfere.
    Still, seeing the reactions of Dave and John had sent the hackles up at the back of his neck. He’d wanted to rip their eyes from their sockets—not exactly rational behaviour, particularly around a woman he barely knew.
    Grace Barclay was an adult and a professional. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself. She didn’t need him to protect her, so why was that the way he felt around her?
    He was trying not to stare at her curves. He’d already seen her naked—what more was there? But Grace wasn’t just wearing this red dress, she va-va-voomed it. It covered every inch that it should. But its coverage was just great. It clung to