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where her fantasies lived, she described his hair in romance-novel terms—as glossy as a raven’s wing. And his eyes—burnt umber, even if she didn’t really know what burnt umber looked like. It sounded sexy and that term definitely fit Clay. Or cognac. Yes, that was the color. She knew what cognac looked like in a leaded glass tumbler and his eyes looked like that—smoky, swirling brown with glinting lights. Lost in his gaze, she simply took him in, letting him fill her up. The force of him edged into the empty places she’d ignored her whole life, the places where her hopes and dreams lived.
    I’m in so much trouble now. Having a crush on the man was one thing, but she feared that after this trip, she’d fallen way over her head in love with her boss. She cleared her throat, dragging her gaze from his to break their connection. She managed to say one word.
    â€œOkay.”
    Another emotion flickered across his expression, lightening his mood. “Okay. Good. Then we’re all settled. How about some breakfast?”
    Breakfast. Yes, breakfast would work to put some distance between them and let her get her fantasies back under control. “Okay.”
    He patted her arm. “For a woman whose job is words, you seem to have very few of them at the moment.”
    * * *
    They were somewhere over Tennessee when Georgie fell asleep. She dreamed of Clay, of him slipping his arm over her shoulders to pull her against his side.
    â€œGeorgie?” He whispered her name.
    â€œWhat?” She whispered back.
    â€œI think I’m going to kiss you now.”
    She sighed, wanting to feel his lips on hers. “You think?”
    â€œI know I want to.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œOkay?”
    â€œUm...yeah. Okay.” Inside the dream she wanted to bang her head on the table. What was up with her managing to only say okay ?
    She focused on his mouth. Full lips. Firm. Hints of smile lines at the corners.
    He plucked her glasses from the end of her nose and set them aside on the table. The corner of his mouth quirked as he looked at her.
    â€œWhat will you taste like?” dream Clay asked. “Dessert sweet and rich? Or twenty-year-old scotch, a smoky burn in my mouth? I can’t wait to find out.”
    He lowered his head and his lips brushed across hers. She licked her bottom lip, her tongue darting out to sample the taste of him. He moved in again, no hesitation this time. His lips fastened onto hers, sucking in her bottom lip as his teeth nipped. One hand secured the back of her head, angling it to the perfect position for his tender attack.
    Normally bold in her fantasies about Clay, she now felt shy and her actions mirrored her emotions. Her hands, hesitant and timid, latched onto his leather jacket—he always wore leather in her dreams—and clung there as though her life depended on it. Emotions rushed through her and a little voice said she should run. Ignoring it, Georgie pressed into their kiss, her tongue now bold enough to dance with his—until he pulled away.
    â€œGeorgie, wake up. We’re getting ready to land.” Breathing hard, she opened her eyes to discover that Clay was watching her, amusement twitching his lips into a sexy grin.
    â€œOh, pistachios on pita. Please tell me I wasn’t talking in my sleep.”

Four
    C lay smoothed his features into a neutral expression. He had heard his name on her lips several times, and the little smooching noises and puckering of her lips was both cute and...arousing. While he’d surely like to know the details, there would be a time and place to discover what Georgie dreamed about—and specifically his role in those dreams—but this wasn’t it.
    â€œDo you make a habit of talking in your sleep?” He snapped his mouth shut, shocked he’d pursued the subject.
    Georgie pushed her glasses up her nose and stared at him. Her forehead crinkled and her lips pursed as she