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I like dogs.”
    “ Mittens is scared of dogs; she must have been attacked by one. I found her abandoned by the side of the road just a few blocks from here. She was in terrible shape; I never thought she would make it.” Maggie turned away, ashamed of the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. What was wrong with her?
    As he stared at Maggie’s bent head and shaking shoulders, Marcus felt an unfamiliar sensation sweep over him. Before he could talk himself out of such an uncharacteristically rash move, he was beside her, his hands gently turning her around and drawing her into his arms.
    Rather stiffly, she accepted the proffered shoulder, more ashamed of herself than she could ever remember. She felt Marcus’ hands move lightly down her back and settle at her waist in a way that was oddly comforting. Maggie was in some sense surprised by this. She hadn’t thought of him as possessing great amounts of either sensitivity or understanding.
    For his part, Marcus was no less surprised and even more confounded by what was happening. He stared down at the golden head nestled against his shoulder. One small hand was on his arm, the other pressed against his heart. He felt a stirring deep inside, an inexplicable desire for something that was beyond his reach. Not entirely liking these new feelings, he moved slightly and Maggie drew back immediately. Her eyes never made it further than the top button of his shirt.
    “I ’m sorry – I can’t think what came over me. I hope I haven’t made us late.”
    Marcus could have told her that being late was the last thing on his mind at that moment. He was trying to rationalize something he hardly understood. At his continued silence, she raised her eyes, still glistening with tears, to his face. He was unable to drag his own from the soft lips just inches away. There seemed to be only one thing to do.
    T his time there was nothing brief or hurried about the kiss. When he finally released her lips, Maggie opened her eyes and awareness set in. What was she doing? She drew away from Marcus with a speed that brought a wry look to his face, uncomfortably aware that her actions were in direct contrast to her feelings.
    “I suppose we should get going,” he stated with a calmness that belied his true feelings. Walking to the door, he pointedly waited while she made a belated grab for her purse.
    Furious with herself and with Marcus, Maggie preceded him to the car. There seemed to be no words that would make things normal again.
    M arcus would have agreed with her. He was just as upset and with what he felt was far more reason. While appearing to be engrossed in maneuvering through the early evening traffic, he was more disagreeably engaged in trying to figure out what madness had seized him. Maggie wasn’t the type of female he admired (hadn’t she said so herself), and yet he found himself once again in a situation where not only had he kissed her, which was bad enough, but he’d enjoyed doing it.
    To make matters worse, he was breaking his own unwritten rule. Messing around with one’s employees wasn’t good business. Neither was allowing a fleeting pull of attraction toward any one woman worth so much scrutiny. In his experience, those same charms that initially made such an impression usually faded given enough time.
    W ith both of them determined to ignore what had happened, it wasn’t surprising that conversation languished. But such couldn’t be the case for the entire evening. The atmosphere of the restaurant, with its soothing music and aura of normalcy, began to have its affect. By the time the food arrived, the beginnings of a sustainable dialogue had been achieved.
    To her surprise, Maggie was able to shed the reserve that had been her cloak of protection since leaving the apartment. This was aided in large part by the more-than-sufficient charm possessed by her companion. The vivid eyes, their emerald depths all the more fascinating in the dimness of the restaurant,