Was it her hair or the scent of her skin that was slowly driving me mad? Or was it just the sheer torture of knowing what delectable curves were hidden under that department store knockoff of a dress?

Letting my feet fall to the floor, I stood abruptly and stretched my sore back. My body didn’t like a sedentary lifestyle, and my back had been protesting the overuse of my office chair.

“Are you okay?” a timid voice asked.

I looked to my right and saw Cara standing up as well with genuine concern in her eyes.

“Just a stiff back. This damn chair is killing me.”

She was so quiet that I barely heard the sound of her moving around the desk until the warmth of her body was within reach.

“May I?” she asked, holding out her hands toward the spot I’d just been rubbing.

With a suspicious gaze, I nodded, wondering just what my naive little assistant was up to.

“I used to play softball in high school and college—just intramural in college though. Mom and Dad didn’t believe that mixing a college-level sport and a major was a great idea, so I managed to get my excess energy out with the intramural team instead,” she explained as her hands reached out toward my lower back.

I nearly groaned when the heat of her fingers radiated through the thin fabric of my shirt.

Nearly.

I managed to keep some decency, and instead, I focused on her words even if I found the rambling a bit ridiculous.

“Anyway,” she continued as she dug deep into the knot that had formed in my back, “my roommate was the opposite—or at least she had wanted to be. She’d planned on going to state on a full ride for volleyball, but she’d busted her knee in her last season in high school.”

“Bummer,” I grunted.

“Yep, that’s what I said. But it all worked out because she ended up majoring in sports medicine, and she fell in love with it. She’s in her first year of medical school now, and she wants to be an orthopedic surgeon. Even though she can’t play anymore, she’ll be able to help those who do. So, long story short,” she said, making me wonder just what she considered a long story to be in her mind, but I let it go, “when I’d come home from intramural, all banged up and bruised, she’d work out all my kinks, and after four years, I managed to learn a few things.”

“Brilliant,” I replied stoically.

“You should really look into getting a new chair, something with—”

“What the hell?”