They came into town. Holly knew Santa Barbara was sometimes called the American Riviera, but it never failed to surprise her how beautiful it was with its intriguing and charming mix of colorful Old West and Spanish cultures. Pace pulled off the highway and drove down a few tourist-filled streets before pulling into a parking lot behind a three-story glass and steel building that overlooked the ocean. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. “Let’s go, Nosey Nose,” he said as he opened her door.

“Where to?”

“Just come on.”

“How very passive-aggressive of you.”

He just reached for her hand and pulled her toward the building. “It’s called pleading the fifth. And it’s a constitutional right.”

“A kidnapper and a scholar.”

He slid her a long look behind his shades. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying that you get more flies with honey than vinegar?”

She might have answered, but then she read the sign on the door he held open for her: Santa Barbara Medical Group.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, dragging her feet. “I don’t need to go in there. I’m good.”

He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were calm, and very amused. “Don’t be scared. I’ll hold your hand.”

For some reason, that sounded incredibly intimate, and her brain went to a naughty place.

Clueless, he tried to nudge her none too gently inside, his hand at the small of her back, but she stood on the threshold, a little overtaken by the odd and yet secretly thrilling beat that seemed to pass between them every time they touched.

What was going on? She’d given up penises! “This is a waste of your apparently in-demand time, Pace. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Let’s just prove it.” But in opposition to the amusement in his voice, he lightly squeezed her waist.

Reassurance.

He cared. Good to know. Because she cared back. And that . . . well, that wasn’t nearly as good to know. “I don’t want to waste your money.”

“I’ll take it out of the grand I owe ya.”

“Two. You owe me two grand.”

They were still standing close, very close, and he was taking up a whole hell of a lot of space. Her space. He had one hand on her, the other above her head, holding the door open, and that felt intimate, too.

And suggestive.

His shirt was stretched taut across his shoulders, and with his arm raised she could see the delineation of the muscles along his forearm, which should have been no big deal, so why she looked, then kept looking, she had no clue.