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naturalness with technology that couldn’t be learned, as if it were a part of him. She slid into the chair adjacent to his.
    She probably wouldn’t have noticed him if she’d stopped in here for a coffee. Liam was almost the definition of nondescript. He had a round face, brown hair with lots of gold mixed in and gentle features. He looked soft and relaxed, as always. For whatever reason, he’d actually bothered to button his shirt all the way up for once, though it wasn’t ironed. No tie. She doubted he owned one.
    He was utterly absorbed in whatever he was doing, not the least bit aware of the noise and movement all around him. Of her sitting next to him. Of the shuffling, nervous energy burning out of his feet, the only anxious parts of him.
    She couldn’t have worked in a place like this. As it was, she liked the office best when no one was going to bother her. She would have been too self-conscious out in public to abandon herself to work with such commitment, not that she ever fell into the state Liam was in now.
    Whatever he was doing, it must have been pretty interesting. His eyes flicked back and forth and his fingers had hardly stopped typing since she’d arrived. He’d always seemed nice, but she’d never realized he could also be intense.
    She could take a break—evidently Geri didn’t think she did much anyway—but she didn’t have all day. She cleared her throat.
    Nope, nothing. She did it again, louder. Still no response.
    She leaned toward him to touch his arm when he looked up. At this admittedly intimate distance, his eyes were much more attractive than she’d noticed before. The chocolate brown was sprinkled with metallic facets and darker undertones. They were eyes you could fall into. His long lashes would have been better suited to a woman as they brushed his cheek when he blinked. Which he did, several times in rapid succession, because their noses were five inches apart and she was staring. Like an idiot.
    Each blink seemed to clear the thick haze of thoughts until he seemed to see her, really see her, sitting next to him.
    Startled, he managed a hesitant “Hi.” She didn’t know how he had meant to say it, but it came out husky, like he hadn’t used his voice in a while. Like he’d sound first thing in the morning.
    They both gave themselves a little shake, him to get out of work-mode and her to dispel the weird and discordant bedroom-related thought. To cover her embarrassment, she laughed and said, “I didn’t know you worked down here.”
    “I don’t usually. I was at a lunch seminar at Brookings.” He nodded toward Massachusetts Avenue a few blocks away. From their acquaintance, she knew he spent a lot of time at education events like those in addition to overseeing the staff of and writing for his political blog, Poindexter, which he’d started in college.
    “Playing catch-up?”
    “Yeah. News stops for no man. So what did you need to talk about?”
    “Well, I enacted The Plan.” She raised a brow for dramatic emphasis.
    Liam didn’t laugh as she’d expected him to; in fact, he seemed cold and distracted. Which he probably was, but still, he had offered to help her last night. Not five minutes ago he’d told her to come meet him. Why was he being a jerk?
    She matched his tone. “She seemed concerned when I told her about my suspicions. She downplayed them. She all but said, ‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.’”
    “You didn’t tell her the names of the corporations we’re looking into? You didn’t quote her a number about how many donations seemed suspicious?”
    She pulled herself up straight, aware for the first time that she’d been leaning against the arm of the chair nearest him. “No, because I’m not stupid.” At this, his expression softened, but she ignored it. It was too late for nice. They were playing this businesslike and she could do businesslike.
    She went on. “I know that it’s not hard evidence, but she seemed nervous