Hot Sheets. Jeanie London
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or old a woman might be. I don’t think you’ll deny that.”
His frown morphed into a scowl. But on the up side, his heated gaze kept dipping from her face, and she thought he might have noticed that she didn’t wear panties under her panty hose.
“Flirting doesn’t make me a degenerate.”
“I never said degenerate. I said bad boy. There’s nothing wrong with bad boys but they don’t stay forever. They like skirting the edges and pushing the limits. They like being challenged.”
“This is bad?”
“Not at all. It can be perfectly exciting in a lover. But the man of my dreams won’t work a job where he travels all over the world for extended periods of time—”
“Sounds like you have a problem with my job, not me.”
“I don’t have a problem with either,” she clarified patiently. “I just didn’t want to complicate our working relationship when you weren’t what I was looking for in a man. It’s not that I’m opposed to a fling per se, but a fling is meant to be short. We’ve been working on this project for two years and much of that time we were on this property together.”
She wouldn’t mention her own concerns about mixing sex and romance. They would undoubtedly send this man running.
“I find it interesting that the woman who single-handedly masterminded the Wedding Wing and the Naughty Nuptials, a woman who is the biggest romantic idealist I’ve ever met, and I’ve met my share of women, believe me—”
She certainly did!
“—can be so cold-bloodedly pragmatic about her own love life.”
“What’s cold-blooded? I know what I want and don’t want to waste my time heading down roads that’ll take me where I don’t want to go.”
“How do you know where a road will take you unless you go for a spin on it?”
He visibly struggled to keep his gaze on her face, so she propped a shoulder against the wall, folded her arms across her chest and hooking her ankles in a would-be casual pose that let him view her in all her full frontal glory.
His gaze dropped again.
“I’ve looked at the map, Dale. I know exactly where you’d take me—straight into bed. Then after the ride, you’d beep your horn, wave good-bye and not look in the rearview mirror. You would have shown up for work the next day as if nothing had happened between us. I just wasn’t comfortable with that.”
“You’ve looked at the map? What the hell does that mean?”
He didn’t refute her charges, and that only reinforced what Laura already knew—Dale Emerson might be a dyed-in-the-wool bad boy, but there was honor beneath his fast grins and charming words. He wouldn’t lie. Not even he could deny he was trouble on two very nice legs.
“It means I’ve looked at some of your past rides and they’ve confirmed my opinion.” She hadn’t meant to reveal that little tidbit but if he needed proof… “I did some homework before I wrote my invitation.”
“You checked out the women I dated while I was in town?”
“Yes.”
He tossed the invitation onto an end table as if it suddenly burned his fingers. “Enlighten me.”
“My pleasure.” But first…a distraction. Dragging the hem of her silk shell upward, Laura stretched, another provocative move that was rewarded by a quick intake of breath. She schooled her smile before the blouse cleared her face.
“I heard that you had such a hot love life you could only date women who didn’t live in Niagara Falls proper so you wouldn’t damage your reputation.”
“My former dates are talking about me?”
“No, Dale. They’re bragging.”
That stopped him. His expression went blank, and his mouth popped open enough to show a glint of teeth before he rallied, “Bragging? About what?”
“About what a studmuffin you are in bed,” she informed him pleasantly. “From what I hear you can come four times a night and bring a woman to pleasure twice that number.”
His scowl reappeared in force now, but he didn’t dispute the claims, or agree, for that matter. Laura got the distinct impression he didn’t know what to say, which came as another surprise. She’d meant to stroke his ego, had thought he’d be pleased to know his past lovers regarded him so highly.
Obviously not.
“How do you even know who I dated, Laura? I never visited the same town twice.”
“You’re in western New York, my friend. Mountains and valleys and miles do not equal anonymity.”
“Apparently not.”
He sounded so annoyed that she couldn’t help but take pity on him. “I’m serious about wanting a fling, Dale. If it didn’t work out during the grand opening, then I considered taking a much-deserved vacation to California to look you up. You sounded worth the trip.”
He gave a grunt of disgust.
She smiled. “According to my research, you dated six women during the time you worked on the Wedding Wing. All six had rave reviews. That’s something to be proud of.”
“Except that I thought I was on good behavior because I was the senior project architect on this job.”
“Oh.” Pushing away from the wall, Laura headed toward the bedroom to retrieve her dinner dress and give him a performance along the way. “Case closed, Dale. You’re a bad boy.”
3
LAURA CONTINUED TO the bedroom closet, attempting to calm her pulse and reevaluate her strategy. She’d guessed that Dale would want an explanation about her change of heart, but she hadn’t expected quite so much wariness about her offer. To be fair, she supposed that being a five-star Mr. Charming didn’t necessarily mean he was careless about who he jumped into bed with.
She’d honestly never meant to imply that his actions were degenerate. She’d intended to compliment his prowess, reinforce her reasons for wanting a fling. But he’d seemed so surprised by her revelations about his past dates that she wondered if he’d expected her to crawl into bed with him without at least peeking at his history. That sort of negligence would have been reckless. Laura might be a lot of things—a romantic idealist among them—but she wasn’t reckless.
She’d decided to switch gears and veer off the respectable relationship track, and while she knew Dale from work, she didn’t know much about his personal life. She’d looked into it. Plain and simple.
Her choice of dates for the Naughty Nuptials would reflect on Falling Inn Bed during what was intended to be a media circus. Her choice in attire would reflect on the inn, too, so she selected a blue crochet dress and a pair of kid-skin slingbacks. Simple, tasteful and elegant. Heading back into the living room, she avoided Dale’s gaze and hung the dress in the hall closet.
She’d answered his questions and given him a sneak preview of what she had to offer with the removal of her suit. He would make the next move. He’d either accept her offer or turn her down. If he turned her down, she’d simply dress for dinner as if changing in front of him had been nothing more than a necessity of time constraints. She’d pretend to have some dignity left.
Dale still hadn’t said a word. Maybe he needed more time to decide. Maybe she’d just surprised him. Maybe he still didn’t trust her. But whatever his reasoning, she began to feel naked and didn’t like the feeling at all.
Just as she reached for her dress, she heard him get up. Glancing over her shoulder, she found him heading toward her, his expression nothing short of purposeful.
Now here was a look she’d never seen before. Gone