When He Was Bad.... Jane Sullivan
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about men here. Men who have no intention of ever committing, yet women chase them, anyway.”
“Because they like the challenge?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“But you don’t?”
“What?”
“Like a man who’s a challenge.”
Sara’s nervousness escalated. “This isn’t about me.”
“Of course it is. You’re a woman, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Are you telling me you’ve never fallen for one of those bad boys?”
“Of course not.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Maybe you’ve just never had the opportunity.”
The words fell from his lips like warm honey in a slow drip. In spite of the fact that Sara knew exactly what kind of man he was, still her heart beat with a primal kind of attraction she just couldn’t quell.
Get it together, or he’s going to tear you apart.
“The basis of the problem lies in women’s physiological reactions,” she explained. “Some women feel a heightened sense of excitement when they’re with a man who they know is bad for them. It’s a kind of thrill-seeking behavior, and they’re physically drawn to it.”
“Physically?” Nick said, as his gaze took a slow trip down Sara’s body and back up again. “Hmm. I’m not quite sure I’m following you.”
That was a lie. He was following every word she spoke, every breath she took, every blink of an eyelash, and she knew why. He was the charming kind of bad boy who seemed innocuous on the surface, even as he used that charm to disarm his victims so he could control every situation. Intellectually, she knew what he was up to. So why was he making her so nervous?
“It’s a physical reaction,” she said. “They feel a heightened awareness, and there’s an increase in heart rate.”
Nick nodded, but he looked a little puzzled.
“And an accelerated neurotransmitter response.”
His brows pulled together with confusion.
“And a dilation of blood vessels. That causes the skin to flush. Then the perspiration glands become overstimulated—”
Nick held up his palm. “Hold on there, Sara. I’m afraid you’re losing me with all that physiological whatever.”
Geek speak. Hadn’t Karen warned her about that? “All I’m trying to say is—”
“What you’re trying to say,” Nick said, leaning toward her and pulling his microphone along with him, “is that bad boys make women hot. Is that right?”
He focused those gorgeous eyes on hers with the intensity of a laser beam, and all at once Sara felt her heart race, her face flush, her skin prickle and her palms sweat.
She cleared her throat. “I’m merely saying they have a physical reaction when they’re with such men. One that’s…uh…hard to ignore.”
He gave her a sinful smile that said, Yes, it is, isn’t it?
“The truth is that good boys will date bad girls,” Sara said, “but they know who they can take home to Mom. Some women, though, will go to extremes trying to change a man who’s never going to change. For men, bad girls are flings. For women, bad boys are projects.”
“But like it or not,” Nick said, “women want those bad boys you’re talking about. Oh, they say they don’t. They say they want men who will mind their manners and take out the trash without being told and be kind to their mothers.”
“All very wonderful qualities.”
“But that’s not all they want.” He gave her a tempting smile. “They want a man who’s exciting. Intriguing. Who keeps them guessing. Who changes from one day to the next and leaves them breathless in an attempt to keep up. A man with an erotic edge who makes them feel alive in a way they never have before. What they want,” he said in a voice as smooth as glass, “is a man who’s just a little…bit…dangerous.”
Sara opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All she could do was stare at him. It was as if the verbal part of her brain had shut down completely.
Nick glanced at the console. “Wow. Look at that. All the lines are lit up. Better see what the folks have to say.” He punched a button. “This is Andy in Alto Linda. Hey, Andy. What’s up, man?”
“You haven’t done the rundown yet,” Andy said. “I’m dying to hear this one.”
Sara’s nerves tightened. The rundown? What was that?
“Yep. You’re right, Andy. Thanks for keeping me on track. I’ll do that right away.”
Sara looked at him questioningly.
“My listeners want to know what you look like,” Nick said.
Sara felt a shot of apprehension. “I don’t see the relevancy—”
“Oh, it’s relevant to them. Believe me.”
He kicked back in his chair, put his foot on the desk and dragged the microphone up to his mouth.
“Okay, guys, let me tell you what I’m looking at here. “Sara Davenport is about five-six, one twenty-five. Long, silky brown hair. Gorgeous green eyes. I think they’re green, anyway. They’re hard to make out with the reflection off her glasses.”
She pursed her lips, trying hard not to react.
“Now, don’t worry, Sara,” Nick went on. “I’m not knocking off any points for those. Contrary to common belief…” He dropped his voice to a sexy drawl. “Men do make passes at girls who wear glasses.”
Sara just sat there, astonished that he was saying these things in front of…good God. Ahundred thousand people?
“And I’m thinking she’s probably…” Nick paused. “Let’s see. Thirty-two years old?”
She couldn’t stop her eyes from narrowing.
“Oops,” Nick said. “Got the evil eye on that. With all those letters after her name, I assumed she had to be older. Turns out she’s not old, just smart. Let’s try twenty-eight.”
Actually, he was off by two years, but that was absolutely none of his business, and she willed herself again not to react. She didn’t want to telegraph to the women in the audience that she cared whether this man found her attractive or not.
“Okay,” Nick said. “Twenty-eight it is.” His gaze slid down her body, lingering on her legs. “I’m guessing she’s got some really nice legs, but underneath the wool pants she’s wearing, it’s hard to tell. Now, up on top…” He eyed her breasts with such intensity that she had to resist the urge to fold her arms over her chest. “Unfortunately, she left the spandex at home today, and her buttoned-up cotton shirt kinda hinders the view.”
“So what score do you give her?” Andy asked.
Nick sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t go any higher than a six.”
Sara’s eyes flew open wide. “A six?”
She instantly clamped her mouth shut. Damn it. He’d dangled the bait and she’d snapped at it. She’d known exactly what he was up to, and still—
“Wait a minute, Sara,” Nick said. “Let me clarify. I’m pretty darned sure there’s a ten under there somewhere, but I can’t go jumping to conclusions with the obstructed view and all. Now, if you could see your way clear to get rid of some of that cotton and wool, I might be persuaded to reevaluate.”
For several seconds,