Susanne handed her the pen she had just photographed.

“That one is not a piston filler. Let’s try it with this one.” Anja reached for another pen.

Susanne directed an expectant gaze at Anja’s hands, watching every motion.

A tingle went through Anja at having Susanne’s intense focus on her. Somehow it felt incredibly intimate to have her look at her hands. She cleared her throat. “Here.” She gave Susanne the pen. “You try it. I’ll talk you through it.”

Susanne grinned. “Want to see how well I take instructions when it comes to…manual tasks?”

Anja nudged her with her elbow. “Focus.” When Susanne opened her mouth, she added, “On the pen.”

Smiling, Susanne closed her mouth and unscrewed the bottle of ink. “So what do I do?”

“First…” Anja reached out and slid the long sleeves of Susanne’s shirt up over her elbows to avoid getting ink on it. Her hand slid over Susanne’s bare skin in the process, giving her a glimpse of what it might feel like to undress her.

Now it was Susanne’s turn to nudge her. “Focus—on the pen.”

Heat rose up Anja’s neck at being caught daydreaming. God, she hadn’t blushed this much in years. “First, you turn the piston knob at the end of the barrel counterclockwise. That extends the piston inside of the pen toward the nib.”

Susanne did it.

“Mmm, you follow instructions well,” Anja murmured.

Susanne looked up, and their gazes met.

Was it just her, or was it getting really warm inside the store?

Anja had to clear her throat before she could continue. “Then you dip the nib into the ink.”

Susanne carefully slid the nib into the ink bottle.

“Deeper.” Anja gently guided her hand.

“Jesus,” Susanne breathed. “You can’t say things like that to me. Not in that sexy voice of yours.”

“What…oh! I…I didn’t…” Anja yanked her hand away from Susanne’s fingers. “All I meant was that the entire nib needs to be submerged, or it won’t work.”

Susanne fanned herself with one hand while guiding the nib more deeply into the ink with the other.

“Just like that.” Anja bit her lip. Why did everything coming from her mouth suddenly sound like something she might say during sex?

Susanne groaned. “Are we filling up a fountain pen or engaging in verbal foreplay?”

“The latter. Uh, the former! I meant the former!” God, this entire conversation while sitting so close to Susanne made Anja’s head spin. She hid her face behind her hands. Her cheeks probably looked like a ripe tomato.

Laughing, Susanne pulled her hands away from her face, leaned over, and kissed one of her overheated cheeks. “You know,” she said, her voice hoarse, “I’m starting to see why you love fountain pens so much.”