She could feel his gaze on her as she worked in the office. When he came into the office, she escaped to the convenience store. If she worked in the garage, she worked far enough away from him that she could almost ignore the rough rasp of his voice. Something had happened to his voice. It grated too deep, it was too rough, too gravelly. The scars on his face, the fine web of them beneath the hairs on his muscular arms, made her wonder at the hint of them that she had seen peeking beneath the collar on his shirt. What had happened to him? It would take a lot to scar a man that powerful, in such a horrible way. No matter where she moved, she could feel his gaze on her though, and she could feel that kiss that had burned through her and left her shaking and weak for hours. She could feel the tension ratcheting up the next evening in the garage. Each time he tried to speak to her, each move he made in her direction, she went the other way. She didn't want to deal with this. Her life was fine without him in it.
