29

“ANGEL? WHERE ARE YOU?”

Logan. Angel’s chuckle was half-groan. Talk about karma, the universe, whatever.

She swung her legs off the edge of the lounge and toed around for her shoes. “Right here, Logan.”

He rounded the corner before she could get her sec-ond shoe on and stand, which left her gaze at thigh level. His thigh.

So not where she needed it to be.

She sprang to her feet—and teetered on the new ap-pendages that were now at uneven heights, thanks to the one-shoe thing. Gods, when would she learn?

Then Logan reached out to steady her and didn’t let go, and she figured she’d learned fairly well.

No no no. The job. She had to remember the job. “Are you okay?”

If she could find her voice, she’d answer him. As it was, she could only nod.

“Oh. Good.” He let go of her arms.

Thank the gods she managed to stay upright. Some learned scientist she was—cool, professional, able to maintain distance when dealing with her subjects—

Yeah, she was fooling no one. Least of all her-self