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very … warm. I’m not a warm person.”

      “You’re right,” he agreed, garnering a flash of surprised hurt from her before adding, “You’re not warm—you’re hot. Everything about you is hot, and you’ve got me hot, as well. I hear you at night, and—”

      “Those are dreams, Rafe—they’re not me.”

      “It is you. Maybe it’s the real you trying to get out. Have you ever considered that?”

      She looked absolutely miserable at the possibility, and he took a chance, moving closer to her again.

      “Listen, Joy, I don’t know why you have the picture of yourself that you do, and I agree, you’ve closed yourself off from some things in life—no, let me finish—I’m not criticizing, and I don’t want to be your shrink. You have reasons for what you do and how you do it, and I’m not really about changing that. You’re losing sleep, so am I. I’m here for a few weeks, and I like you. I think you might like me. Maybe we can have a little fun together.”

      “You mean sex.”

      “I mean fun. If that includes sex, great. I’d love the chance to show you how hot you are. How you affect me,” he said honestly. That she could even believe she was a cold fish was beyond him.

      “Thanks, but I don’t need you to save me,” she said stubbornly. He could have been offended, but instead he looked straight back at her, and while he didn’t know where the words came from, he knew they were true.

      “Who knows? Maybe I need you to save me.”

       6

      “HEY—GOOD WORK TODAY,” Ken said, popping his head in the office door and grinning. Joy had been up to her ears regarding the last-minute release of a new and improved Toddler Tank, which was being shipped out to families with recall certificates that very day, a full seven days before Christmas. Manufacturing had done triple-time fixing the problem, and the tide of negative feedback was starting to turn. It was costing the company a fortune, but it would pay off in the long run. Joy had been all over the media all day, making sure everyone knew what a good job her company had done.

      “Thanks.” She took the time to look up and smile back at Ken.

      “Um, how’s that other thing going—you know, with the problem you were having, whoever’s leaving you those, uh, materials?”

      She blushed, his comment taking a little of the shine off the moment. “It’s fine—I made sure it was addressed last night,” she said.

      The relief on Ken’s face was palpable. No doubt he was glad he didn’t have to deal with it internally. “That’s good. Well, you really stayed on top of things today. I was impressed.”

      All was forgiven, and everyone was in a great mood with the great save they’d managed to make. This aspect of the job was much more gratifying than all the negativity she’d been wading through before.

      “You’ve been at it all day—it’s six—you heading out soon? I thought I could buy you a congratulations drink,” Ken proposed.

      “Six? Oh, crap—sorry, I mean, thanks for the offer on the drink, but can I take a rain check? I have somewhere to be, and I lost track of time.”

      “Hot date?”

      Ken was happily married, so she knew he wasn’t coming on to her. “No, volunteer work I do in the evenings.”

      “You’re a wonder, Joy. Not everyone would work all day and then volunteer at night. Make sure that’s noted on your employee profile.”

      “That’s not necessary. It’s something I do because I enjoy it.”

      “Still, can’t hurt to keep building that résumé. Joy?”

      “Yes?”

      “You really did a great job on this recall—I’ll be sure to make that known to the board when we’re making the promotion decisions.”

      She smiled, nodding. “Thanks, Ken, I appreciate that.”

      She practically danced to the parking lot—she was back on track, and in line for the promotion. At the moment, she had to grab some dinner and get to Second Chance. She’d offered to do the night shift there and had her change of clothes in the backseat, ready to go.

      When Pam had called that morning asking her to cover at the last minute because Rashid couldn’t make it, she’d jumped at the chance, maybe a little too eagerly. There was the small—teensy, really—chance that she was avoiding going home since Rafe might be tempted to come over and see her. The events of the previous evening had been thrumming through her brain and her body all day long, and she didn’t know what to think about it, except that she didn’t want to think about it.

      However, Rafe had been wrong about one thing: she hadn’t gone to sleep and dreamed about him because she’d been up, tossing and turning and trying not to think about how he’d tenderly touched her face, the heat in his gaze, or the gentle kiss he’d offered—with the promise of so much more.

      If she’d dared let herself fall asleep she would have spontaneously combusted, having been so close to him, his presence following her into sleep. So she’d stayed awake, his words echoing in her mind as she realized she didn’t need to go to sleep to have Rafe Moore—he was offering himself to her on a silver platter. Maybe she was crazy, but it scared her to death.

      In her dreams she was a different woman, uninhibited, sensual—not her ordinary, uptight self. She meant what she’d told him—she dated, sure, and she’d liked a few of the guys she’d seen over the years well enough to take things to their inevitable conclusion in the bedroom. She’d dealt with the sting of more than one breakup, as well. None of the men had said she was awful in bed or anything, but what else was a girl to think? She obviously didn’t have the sex appeal she did in her dreams. Dream sex was usually more satisfying for her, too, sadly. Even so, she hoped it would cease soon—her sleep deprivation was wearing her out.

      Rafe was interested in her because he’d heard that sexy version of herself, not the real Joy. Joy was willing but awkward, generally not knowing exactly how to respond to a man’s touch. She didn’t want to be like that, but even when she wanted to participate, she never felt natural or carried away by passion. It was a self-perpetuating problem that had converted a rather boring sex life into a bona fide dry spell. Rafe was offering to help her end it, but his interest was based on false information.

      That was why she’d pushed him away—he had a fantasy of her and it was so far from reality that it could only lead to disappointment for both of them. Rafe might like her hair down, but it would take a lot more than freeing her hair to thaw out whatever made her so boring in bed. The one thing she was sure of was that she couldn’t face seeing disappointment in her performance mirrored in yet another man’s eyes.

      Especially not in Rafe’s hot-chocolate eyes.

      She hoped he’d take the hint and back off. Better to nip this in the bud, she thought as she drove into the Second Chance parking lot.

      Cheery multicultural holiday decorations were on display in the windows and on the lawn. People who stayed at the shelter came from varied backgrounds. There was a menorah in the window circled by Christmas lights. A Santa stood on the small scruffy patch of front lawn beside a makeshift manger. Joy smiled, realizing this was the only time looking at all the Christmas decorations hadn’t made her wrinkle her nose.

      Maybe it was because here the decorations meant something more than the suburban competition to outdo one’s neighbors. Here, this little pastiche of holiday cheer represented hope … and home, if only for the moment. For people who lived here and were working so hard to improve their lives, this was a sign of their belief in something good. Bolstered, she got out of the car. She was avoiding Rafe, but even that couldn’t dim her optimism as she walked through the doorway, looking forward to her evening.

      “WOW—LOOK

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