Excerpt from Between The Sheets
Shoving back her chair so fast it nearly overturned, Claire jumped up and Graham grabbed hold of her arms. Szzz. Was that a branding iron or his palms on her skin? Desperately trying to break the hold he had on her senses, not to mention the thrill transmitted to her arms, Claire exclaimed, "Mr. LeFarge!"
"Graham," he smoothly corrected.
"All right, Graham. Why did you do that?"
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Try to kiss me, that's what."
"I didn't try to kiss you. Believe me, you'd know it if I did," he said with a confidence that assured her any attempted kiss from Graham LeFarge would be too good to resist.
Claire made fast tracks toward her desk. "Perhaps you don't understand my position. I am here to listen, advise, and raise questions you need to answer yourself. As a therapist, my personal life has no place in this room. Which—which brings me to the point that you're privy to personal aspects of my life, and that conflicts with—" She took a deep breath. "Given the situation, I'm going to refer you to a colleague and end the session here."
While she waited for the expected agreement, Graham swiftly debated his options.
He couldn't agree to her suggestion any more than he could reveal his secret identity after this gut-yanking session. Deciding to educate Claire about what made him tick, he firmly stated, "I don't want one of your colleagues. I want you."
"That's not a good idea. I've explained why."
"Then let me explain something, Dr. O'Hara," he said, advancing with a slow, measured pace that had Claire looking as skittish as a rabbit dodging a hoe. "You are the best and if you refuse to see me, it's only because your social life is more important to you than my mental health."
"In that case...if it has to be one or the other, do I take that to mean you'll withdraw as my client so I can subscribe to your services?"
"You're a very smart man, aren't you?"
He shrugged as if to say, "Maybe," but his victor's smile gave him away.
"All right," she said tightly, ungraciously giving in. "I'll see what I can work out and have my secretary contact you."
"Thank you," he said with absolute sincerity. "Tell you what, why don't we pick this up over dinner?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't," she told him, looking secretly pleased at his thwarted expression.
"But you just said you were free tonight."
"I am. However, it's professionally prohibited to mix pleasure with therapy sessions." Edging past him, Claire went for the escape. He noticed the knob slide in her grip before she thrust the door open. "And as we both know, Graham, your mental health is far more important than my social life."