Back inside the house, however, her luck ran out the minute she turned to go up the stairs and bumped into Daniels.
“Good morning, beautiful.” A huge smile graced his face. It made him look even more handsome than he usually did, and he knew it.
“Good morning, Mr. Daniels. My apologies. I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.”
“Oh, I don’t mind one bit. A lovely lady like yourself crashing into me first thing in the morning isn’t something that needs an apology.” As he spoke, he leaned his body closer to her. She stepped back, trying to maintain an appropriate distance between them, but it didn’t work. Every inch she moved, he countered by the same inch, sometimes more.
“Gage,” he insisted, nearly pinning her against the wall with his body. He was too close. The scent of the soap he’d used wafted up to her nose. It smelled good. He smelled good.
She needed to get away from him. “Mr. Daniels, if you do not step back and let me pass this instant, I will physically move you.” This only caused him to smile wider, if that were possible, and there was a gleam in his eye she didn’t like.
Instead of stepping back, he leaned in, holding his upper body so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. His breath caused tiny goose bumps to cover the left side of her face and neck. She closed her eyes, bracing herself.
Then . . . it was gone . . . his breath, the heat, everything.