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“I don't need the aggravation of my staff members avoiding each other when the sex goes stale. And believe me, it will." I want to laugh. I want to slap his face. As it is, my breathing comes on quick and fast. "Which means North is really only off limits while I work for you. Good to know." A streak of red spears across the tops of Macon's cheeks, and I swear the man growls. It rumbles in that wide chest of his as his moth tightens. "He's not for you, Delilah. Unless, of course, you're into having Sam's leftovers." As if I've been slapped, my breath hitches. Oh, that was low. Not only to me but to North as well. My face feels tight and hot. And for an instant, something that looks like guilt flickers in Macon's brown eyes, but it's quickly smothered by stubborn self-righteousness and a pugnacious lift of his chin. "Well then," I manage, "I guess that leaves you out of the running too.” — Kristen Callihan