Excerpt from In the Dark       Two steps across the threshold, she halted. There, leaning casually against the file cabinet nearest the hall door, stood Mac, his hands in his pockets and his head slightly cocked, as if nothing could be more natural than for him to be in her office, waiting for her.      She tried not to notice his lopsided smile, which produced a dimple in one corner of his mouth. She tried not to notice the smooth drape of his shirt across his chest, or the length of his legs, or his thick, dark hair. She couldn’t help but notice his scent, though. It stirred something deep inside her, making her feel vulnerable.      She crossed the room to him so she could speak softly. If she closed the door between her office and Charlotte’s, Charlotte would become suspicious, so she left it open. But she’d rather Charlotte didn’t overhear anything Julie and Mac might say to each other.      “What are you doing here?” she asked.      “Did you get any more bad-ass emails?”      She hoped he didn’t detect her slight hesitation before she answered. “No. And what were you doing in my office last night?”      “I wasn’t in your office,” he drawled.      “You’re a liar.”      His smile grew. “Takes one to know one, chère.”      Was that his way of admitting he had been in her office? Or his way of demanding she tell him about the second email? Or both?      “If there’s something you want from me, Mac,” she said, “ask me. Don’t go sneaking around in my office behind my back.”      He surprised her by sliding his index finger under her chin and tipping her face up until their gazes locked. He used his thumb to trace the edge of her chin. “If there’s something I want from you, Julie, I will surely ask,” he murmured, his voice so thick with meaning she didn’t dare try to make sense of it. She was relieved when he let his hand drop, pushed away from the file cabinet and glided out the door.      Relieved and also inexplicably disappointed. #      He’d crossed a line.      He knew it the moment he’d touched her, the moment he’d felt her cool, smooth skin, as silky as he’d imagined it, as tantalizingly soft. It had taken all his willpower not to slide his hand down to her throat, around to the nape of her neck, and pull her to him for a kiss.      Sure, he could justify getting close to her. He could tell himself he was just doing his job: watching out for her, serving as her secret bodyguard. He couldn’t very well protect her long-distance, could he?      Still…touching her that way, even if only for a few seconds, made him far too aware of her. To do his job properly, he had to remain detached and objective. One look into Julie Sullivan’s shimmering eyes and his objectivity jumped into the river and swam away.      Meanwhile… She’d lied to him. She’d gotten another bad email. Her no was irrelevant. He’d seen the truth flash across her face, as bright as lightning.      He’d lied to her, too, of course—but he’d had a good reason for sneaking into her office last night. He wondered how she’d guessed that he’d been in there. Short of dusting her keyboard for fingerprints, how could she tell? He hadn’t touched anything besides her computer. He hadn’t even turned on the light. His hair wasn’t falling out, so she couldn’t have detected short, dark strands on her desk, and her carpet had a shallow nap, so his shoes left no obvious imprints in it.      Maybe, like him, she had instincts. Maybe sensing a man’s former presence in a room was one of those women’s intuition things. Or maybe she’d just tossed out the question to see how he would react.      Hell. He’d reacted by touching her. Not good.

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