Sam’s gaze drifted past his shoulder to the screen he was staring so intently at. At the top was the name “Tommy Wilder” with a long series of links and descriptions that were too small for her to read. She’d never heard of Tommy Wilder. Then she spied the screen beside it, where her own name was shown just as prominently. Was he doing some kind of background check on her?
She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. She was close enough to Brody now that the small sound caused him to immediately spin in his chair to face her.
His initial look of surprise quickly morphed into anger as his jaw locked and his eyes narrowed at her. He stood up in one fluid movement and Sam took an instinctive step backward.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. “How did you get in here?”
Sam clutched the file to her chest and took another step back as he charged forward. “I brought the file you w-wanted. The door was open and I—”
“What? You thought I left it open for you?” he interrupted her shaky explanation.
Apparently her ideas about Brody subconsciously reaching out to her were woefully incorrect. “No, I…” She didn’t have a better explanation. She took another two steps back, pausing when she felt the press of cold metal on her back. A quick glance showed her she’d backed herself against the pinball machine. With Brody moving closer, she was pretty much trapped there to take her punishment.
“What did you see?” he asked, pointing to his computers. “Tell me,” Brody demanded, his booming voice amplified by the acoustics of the dark room.
Sam was wide-eyed with confusion. He was mad that she was in there, but somehow he seemed more concerned that she was spying on him. What did she see? Nothing important. What did it matter, anyway? She had a confidentiality agreement in place. She could’ve seen the truth about the Roswell crash site and the JFK assassination and she couldn’t tell anyone. “Just some names. My name. Nothing else.”
Brody crowded into her space, placing his hands on each side of the pinball machine as though he were playing to prevent her escape. His blue eyes were nearly black in the dim lighting as he leaned into her.
Even with the file between them, Sam could feel the heat of his body penetrating her clothes. The scent of his cologne crowded her, filling her lungs as she took a deep breath to calm herself.
Goodness, but he was tall. In her four-inch heels, she was almost looking him in the eye, their bodies aligning perfectly. Her heart started racing as she thought about reaching out and touching him. Her touch before had been fleeting, innocent, yet powerful. She craved that connection again. It was a ridiculously counterproductive thought, given the man was in a big enough rage to fire her, not kiss her.
Sam licked her lips, noting his gaze dropped down to watch, then came back up to look into her eyes. She had her share of experience with men, and she knew when a man wanted her. Sam was surprised, given all the barriers Brody had deliberately put between them, but it was clear. He wanted her. Yet he was holding back.
“What was the other name?” His voice was calmer now but still deadly cold.
Sam was so wrapped up in her thoughts about Brody that she could barely remember. “Timmy? Tommy? I don’t know. I only saw it for a moment.”
At that, Brody nodded and the muscles in his body seemed to uncoil from the pounce he’d been ready to make. But he didn’t pull away. He stayed put.
The blinking lights of the pinball machine behind her cast Brody’s face in dancing shadows. He was so beautiful, and yet, so damaged. She watched him, knowing she shouldn’t linger too long on his injuries, but wanting to understand what he’d been through.
Before she could stop herself, she reached her right hand up and placed it on his damaged cheek. Her palm barely made contact with the wavy surface of his skin before he jerked back. Sam didn’t want him to shy away. She wasn’t afraid of him or his injury.
Slipping her hand behind his neck instead, she pulled him forward, meeting his lips with her own. His mouth was stiff against hers at first, making her fear she’d made a gross miscalculation in kissing him, but then he relaxed and she felt one of his hands move to her waist.
His lips were soft and slightly sweet, as though he’d been eating some of those jelly beans she’d spied on his desk. Like his office, he seemed to be just as physically closed off. Sam had to coax his mouth open wider, running her tongue along his bottom lip to let her in.
Sam anxiously waited for Brody to take charge of their kiss. To press her back against the pinball machine and dig his fingertips hungrily into her flesh. But he didn’t. His every move was hesitant, as though he were thinking about it. You weren’t supposed to think about a kiss, you were supposed to feel and give in to it.