her eyes. She had been poring over Lucas Donovan's manuscript for hours, her

matter how hard she tried, Amelia couldn't seem to get Lucas out of her mind. His warm

e muttered under her bre

ords in front of her. But as her eyes scanned the pages, she found hers

speaking voice? she wondered. Is his storytelling

was a professional, for god's sake. Mooning over an author's personal attributes w

that gave her pause. She reached for her pen, scrawling a question mark in the margin. The prose was undoubtedly captivating, but there w

heart skipped a beat as she scooped it up, her breath catching in

silently cursing the sl

e on the other end of the line. "I ho

to the scribbled notes scattered across he

e heard him chuckle softly. "Please, call me Lucas. All

f her mouth tugging upward into a smile. "

as began. "I know these things take time, but I have to

her desk. "Actually, your timing is impeccable. I did have a few q

"I'd be more than happy to provide any insight or clarificat

personal meeting with an author she was evaluating. But another voice, one she ha

," she began, immediately regretting her prim, dismissive to

ear the grin in his voice. "How about that little cafe on 9t

g. Stop it, she commanded herself. This is about the manuscript, nothing more. Still, she couldn

d, attempting to regain her professi

hint of mischief in his voice. "

r? Aribald voice in her mind wondered if he would try to hold her hand or make some other forward

crambled to recover. Finally, she manag

corrected. "I'll se

r as a curious fluttering sensation danced across her skin. She set down

d her? That pierced her carefully constructed walls and

ne of the most prestigious publishing houses in New York, she dealt with authors constantly - writers of every age, background and temperament. Maint

her shelves. Yes, that had to be it. His manuscripts contained multitudes - depth, spirit, poetry.

ing separate from the literary craft she so cherished. A kind of magnetic pull that kept drawing her mind back to the

recting around her heart, fortifying herself against the vulnerability of connection, of inti

hing about Lucas that threa

n twilight. This was her world - concrete and steel, ambition and accolades. A solitary existence by choice,

ndaries, brazenly and unwittingly awakening parts of her that had been tucked away for t

her mind's persistent chorus of questions: What did this mean for her, for the caref

nce again? Or was he simply a temporary blip on her radar - someone who would flirt with h

was to throw caution to the wind and surrender, at least for a