Since she couldn’t be expected to control physical reactions, she didn’t bother looking at him. “You’re late.” “It’s three minutes to noon,” he said. She lifted her chin to eye him. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or not.” He dropped his keys on the table. At least he wasn’t wearing another skin-tight T-shirt, but one of those boring, tailored, million-dollar button downs. Thank goodness. There was no time for distractions today. If he’d only put his lab coat on faster, she wouldn’t have to notice how that very boring shirt was tucked into his black pants, showing off his trim waist and lovely flat abs. “Nat? You ready?” Ivy stood before her with the clicker for her laptop. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all here”—she couldn’t help shooting a glance at Luke—“we’ll get started.”