Merry and Bright Read Online Free PDF Page A

jammed his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to deal with it, letting out a slow, long breath, practicing some multiplication problems in his head . . . anything to make sure his brain didn’t focus in on those sexy as hell thigh-highs. But she slowly rolled the stocking down, past the scraped knee, and—
    “Don’t look!”
    “I’m not.”
    “You are so.”
    Yeah, he was.
    “What, you’ve never seen a clumsy woman tear her stockings before?”
    “I’ve never seen a beautiful woman so unaware of herself before.”
    Her gaze snapped up to his, and he let her look her fill, which she did with a wary hunger that quite frankly turned him on more than the stockings, more than any woman had in a long time.
    “So I have a little thing for lingerie,” she said defensively, and sprayed her knees again. “And dammit, ouch. ”
    He put a hand on her thigh, bent, and blew on the scrapes.
    She gasped.
    Nope, he wasn’t alone in this odd and inexplicable attraction. “Maggie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You’re crazy if you think I have a problem with your lingerie.”
    “It’s not that I’m crazy. Although in general, women are thirty-seven percent more likely to need a psychiatrist.”
    That made him smile. “You know some interesting things.”
    “I know, it’s odd. I’m . . . odd. I dress in lab coats every day and I wear glasses, and my hair—Well, just never mind about my hair. I know what I look like. Wearing sexy underwear gives me the illusion of being sexy, at least in my own mind.”
    He took in her slightly disheveled, sexy-as-hell appearance and shook his head. “Hate to argue with someone thirty-seven percent more likely to need professional help, but there’s no illusion here. You are sexy as hell.”
    She blushed beet red. “And not that it’s any of your business, but the thigh-highs are far better for the female body anyway, and—” She broke off when he slipped his hand around the back of one calf and lifted her leg enough to get a good look at her trashed knees.
    “And . . . ?” he prompted, when she didn’t finish.
    “And . . .” She slid her eyes to his hand on her. “I lost my train of thought.”
    “You were talking about your lingerie fetish.”
    She pushed him back a step. “It’s not a fetish!”
    “Okay.”
    “It’s not!” She shook her head and let out a breath. “Oh, forget it.” She thrust the antiseptic spray at him and got up. As she straightened her legs, she sucked in another breath.
    “Still hurt?”
    “It’s just scraped knees.” She shoved her nose up into nose-bleed heights. “I’ll be fine.” She put a hand to his chest to push him out of her way, then frowned down at her hand.
    “Yeah,” he said, feeling the pull at the touch. “Quite a punch, huh?”
    “What’s quite a punch?”
    “The chemistry. Our chemistry. Fitting, I think, since chemistry is where we first met.”
    She paused. “You think we have chemistry?”
    “I guess it could be static electricity.”
    She choked out a laugh, looking down at her fingers, still spread over his chest. “Do you remember me catching you in that empty classroom with that girl?”
    He went blank a moment, then grimaced. “Oh, shit. Yeah. Look, in my defense, I was an idiot back then.”
    She limped to the window, which looked over the courtyard, and farther, back to her own lab. “Hey, my light’s on,” she said with surprise. “I didn’t leave my light on.”
    “Maybe you forgot.”
    “No. I shut down my laptop, locked my files, filled my briefcase with everything I need to work at home tonight, and then shut off my light. Like I do every single night.”
    “It happens.”
    “Not to me.” She took a hobbling step toward the door, and he sighed. “Give me your keys. I’ll run back and flip it off for you.”
    She hugged her keys to her chest. “That would be against the rules.”
    “And you always follow the rules. Even if your gut tells you otherwise.”
    “Well, yes.”
    “Doing my