Jamison asked, a note of curiosity in his voice, "Ms. Lester, are you traveling for work next week?"

"Yeah," Katrina replied with a sly smile, "My advisor landed a major out-of-town case and roped a few of us in to help with the grunt work." She made a point to say this in front of Jamison, then added, "Dr. Ludwig, I'll have to trouble you to look after Ivy while I'm gone."

"I don't need him to look after me! I'm not a toddler!" Ivy shot back quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She turned to Jamison, her patience thinning. "Are you coming or not? If not, then please, just leave."

Jamison couldn't help but smile at the sight of her puffed-up, indignant face. He remembered the soft warmth of her cheek from earlier, and his heart softened. "Come on, let's go. We shouldn't keep Ms. Lester from her work."

With a frosty expression, Ivy grabbed her bag and headed out the door. Inside the elevator, she pressed the button for the underground garage, intent on driving herself. But Jamison reached over and canceled the selection.

She glared at him. He met her gaze calmly. "Just ride with me."

"I don't need a ride. I'll drive myself," Ivy insisted, jabbing the button again.

Jamison just smiled, saying nothing more. When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, he wordlessly took her by the arm and steered her out.

"Jamison, what are you doing? Are you some kind of kidnapper?" Ivy protested, but when someone walked by, she forced herself to stop struggling and allowed him to lead her outside and into his car.

"Jamison, you're unbelievable!" she snapped, glaring at him.

He grinned, unbothered. "Yeah, maybe a little." He leaned in.

Ivy stiffened, pressing herself against the seat, heart racing. But all Jamison did was reach for the seatbelt, pulling it across her and clicking it into place.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and tense, looking for all the world like a startled kitten. Jamison chuckled, unable to resist pinching her cheek again.

"What're you so scared of? You think I'm going to eat you or something?"

This time, Ivy really lost her temper. She slapped his arm with a sharp "smack." She'd meant for it to hurt him, but all she managed was to leave her own hand tingling and numb. The man looked lean, but his muscles were firm as stone.

Jamison caught the look on her face and couldn't help but laugh. "What, did you forget your high school science? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Does your hand hurt?"

"Not at all," Ivy lied, her tone defiant.

His smile grew broader. With no rush to leave, he leaned casually against the passenger door, one arm propped on top, the other hand reaching out toward her.

"Look at that–red as a cherry, and you're still insisting it doesn't hurt? You've got the most stubborn mouth I've ever seen."

Ivy felt completely out of her element. She hadn't agreed to date him, and they hadn't defined anything between them, but Jamison's gentle teasing and blatant affection left no doubt how he saw her. Especially now, with him standing so close, shielding her with his presence–it felt intimate, almost suffocating.

She wanted to resist, to push back, but she couldn't keep the blush from creeping across her cheeks. "Well, are we going or not?" Unable to answer his teasing, she tried to change the subject. But Jamison saw her blush, and his heart stirred with longing.

He'd known, even when Ivy was chatting with "Dr. Handsome," that she had some feelings for him–she just kept them buried under layers of restraint. Now, seeing that enchanting blush and her sweetly flustered expression, he was more certain than ever.

"Ivy, you're blushing," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You can't pretend you don't feel anything for me…"