Page 2 of Body Shot

I smile despite the feeling that I’m being pulled away from what’s really important. “Great.”

After lunch, we part on the sidewalk, heading to our respective cars. I parked farther down the street and I set out at a quick pace, nearly late for my one-thirty meeting with the program director of Bioengineering Research Institute to discuss our research and application plans prior to making our submission. This makes sure our interests are aligned and we’re on the right track before I spend weeks preparing the proposal. After that I have a meeting with Richard, the treasurer of Vanguard Corp and Kim, my secretary, another meeting with one of my research teams about a project, and then I need to get some work done on the presentation I’ll be giving at an upcoming health-care conference. Checking emails on my phone, I stride along the sidewalk. I frown, reading about a problem with the . . .wham!

I bounce off a signpost, drop my phone and, reeling, lose my balance. Pain shoots through my shoulder and I fall backwards, anticipating the smack of concrete on my butt, when strong arms catch me.

“Whoa there.” A low, smoky voice grazes my ear. I sag against a big, hard body momentarily, my wits scattered. Then he carefully balances me and holds my upper arms to steady me. “You okay?”

I blink, dazed. “Um. I think so.”

Another passerby hands me my phone. I curl my fingers around it and shake my head.

“You hit that post going at a good clip.”

I suck in a breath, heat washing over me, scorching my cheeks. “Oh my God. How embarrassing.”

A low chuckle makes my toes curl. I lift my gaze to the man’s face. My insides heat, too, as I stare into the eyes of a stranger . . . deep, molasses brown eyes. A short, dark beard and mustache cover his square jaw, revealing perfectly carved lips now quirked in a sexy smile. His brown hair is pulled back off his face, emphasizing high cheekbones.

“I’m more worried that you’re hurt.” Concern etches a line between dark eyebrows.

I try to swallow and can’t, now aware of wide shoulders, a snug T-shirt that reveals rounded biceps with tattoos curving around one of them, lean forearms, and big hands holding me.

Good Lord, he’s gorgeous. My tongue swells up and goes dry, and my heart accelerates into warp speed. My eyes widen and I stare at him like a speechless cliché.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

I nod, blinking rapidly, afraid I might literally swoon at his feet. “Fine.”

“You seem dazed. Did you hit your head?”

“I have no idea.”Oh my God, I’m an idiot.

His forehead creases more. “That’s not good. Maybe you have a concussion. We should get you to a doctor.”

“No! No, I’m fine. I didn’t hit my head.” I lift a shaky hand to touch my forehead, then lower it to rub my shoulder. “I think I hit the post with my shoulder. It just . . . startled me.”

His gaze drops to my shoulder, skimming over my breasts. He quickly averts his eyes from my chest, but I know he looked. And my nipples tingle in response.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Can you move it?”

“Move what?” I stare up at him. Way up, since he’s way tall.

“Your shoulder.”

I close my eyes briefly. He must think I’m the biggest idiot ever.

I carefully circle my shoulder. “Yes. I can move it. I’m sure it’s just bruised.”

Tingles slide over my skin as I become aware he’s still holding my arms.

“Okay.” He takes a step back, releasing me.

I’m still staring at him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” One corner of his mouth lifts in an attractive half-smile, and his eyes warm.

I blink rapidly and look down at the phone in my hand. “My phone is cracked!” Dismay fills me. “Oh my God, my phone!” It’s my lifeblood. I can’t live without my phone! “What time is it?”

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