He’d said he needed to talk, and Anna had figured she had enough good sense to keep her emotions in check around him. But when she’d arrived at Charlie’s apartment, he’d put his hand on the small of her back to guide her way, and his touch had triggered a dangerous yearning that started low in her belly and spread all the way up through her aching chest. Clearly, she’d overestimated her good sense. Coming here had been a mistake—a big one.She started to remove her purse from her shoulder, and then thought better of it. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something.”He plopped down in the dead-middle of a small leather couch. His long legs opened wide, and then he patted a spot near his thigh. “Sit with me.”Her gaze darted about the living room, taking in the unadorned white walls and a clean but worn brown carpet. The laminated coffee table looked like the type you’d get at Rent-A-Center. There were no chairs in the room, nor was there a loveseat to augment the couch.
