The beautiful woman frowned at Ean. She even had an enticing frown: the curve of her lips begged to be reversed; the fact of her lips hinted all unintending at barely decent ways that could be done. You’re babbling, she stated matter-of-factly, and then she put her hand on his chest when he tried to rise. No, don’t try to get up. I think you hit your head.
Her fingers were long and slender, like an artist’s or a violinist’s. Ean was uncomfortably aware of the warmth of her palm through his shirt.
Ean grimaced, still a little dazed and ornery. It’s only uncomfortable because you’re insisting on pointing it out, he insisted himself.
What? asked the woman, reminding him that only my half of our conversation was private.
I’m, uh, babbling, Ean said hastily. To myself. I mean, uh…soooo, this is awkward, what with me having no idea who you are or what you’re doing in my private sanctuary…er, office.
Oh! said the woman. She pulled her hand away and blushed furiously. I’m sorry: I was so worried you were hurt I wasn’t thinking about introductions at all. I’m Rachel. I’m new. I mean, they hired me months ago but then I had a family emergency, and it took forever to get moved. But they held the job for me, so…. She blushed a little harder. I’m babbling, she said with a small laugh and a sudden smile. Let’s try that again. My name is Rachel. I’m new here: I just started as a junior programming associate today.