His Final Seduction. Lori Wilde
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really happy.”
“Good for Keith.” A wistfulness swept over him. It seemed all his buddies were getting married, settling down. He didn’t get it. There was so much living to be done. You could get married and grow old anytime. But you were only young once.
“How’s your parents?”
“They decided to follow their bliss and moved to Santa Fe. Mom runs an art gallery. Dad takes tourists on guided deer hunts.”
“And your brother?”
“Gordy’s still in the air force. He’s gonna be just like Dad. Career military.”
“But not you?”
“Naw. I’ve never been much for having other people tell me what to do. The service wasn’t a natural fit. How about your parents?”
“They finally sold the house on Janie Lane, moved into a condo in downtown Fort Worth.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“After years of suburban living, they said they wanted to be where the action is.”
“I’m impressed. Paula and James living it up in Sundance Square.”
“Things change,” she said.
He raked his gaze over her, couldn’t stop himself from taking in the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse. “Yeah, they do. What are you up to these days? Keith told me you worked for a big accounting firm and that you’d gotten your CPA.”
“Still there.”
“Is it the only job you’ve ever had?”
“Other than working at Six Flags when I was sixteen.”
“Hey, Keith and I worked there one summer. At the ice cream emporium.”
“I remember. You got fired for giving free banana splits to pretty girls.”
“That memory of yours…” Quint shook his head, grinned. “It’s wicked dangerous.”
Their gazes locked and that same compelling zap that he’d felt when he bumped into her in the airport flashed through him again. What was this sudden, unexpected chemistry? She wasn’t the type he normally went for. He liked tall, supergorgeous, sleek blondes with legs to the ceiling and more boobs than brains. Jorgie was nothing like that.
“Tell me, what is it that you do?” she asked. “When you flattened me in the terminal you said you were late for work. I thought you must be a pilot or flight attendant or something.”
“I work for Eros,” he said.
She eyed him. “In what capacity?”
“I’m an instructor.”
An eyebrow rose on her forehead as if she didn’t believe him. “What kind of instructor? I never figure you for the professorial type.”
“I teach How To Make Love Like Casanova. The male counterpart to How To Make Love Like A Courtesan.”
Jorgie almost choked on her Bloody Mary. “You’re serious?”
“Yep.”
“What do you teach them?”
“The art of seduction.”
She giggled.
“Hey, it’s not that funny.” He pretended to look hurt. Hell, if a guy couldn’t laugh at himself, who could he laugh it? The Casanova thing was pretty goofy.
“Are you practicing your skills on me now?” she asked.
“On an old friend?” He made a “no way” face and shook his head.
“Really?”
“Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers of his left hand.
“Then how come you’ve got your elbow at the level of my breasts? You counting on an accidental boob graze?”
“What? You think I have no finesse?”
“You can stop trying to look affronted and move your elbow.”
“You weren’t this prickly when you were thirteen,” he said, shifting his arm away from her breasts. He hadn’t been angling for an accidental boob graze, but now that she’d brought it up, it was all he could think about. He was so aware of her. The air seemed to vibrate between them.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“What?”
“I see you staring at my breasts.”
“And may I say what nice breasts they are?”
“Go on.” She waved at him with both hands. “Shoo. Go back to your seat.”
“You’re kicking me out of your row?”
“I am.”
“Heartless.” He shook his head, gave her his best grin.
“Go.” She pointed like he was a bad dog.
What had he done wrong? Quint wasn’t accustomed to being shown the door. Women just naturally liked him and he liked them.
“You’re serious?”
“Why do I get the feeling women rarely say no to you?”
“’Cause I know how to make love like Casanova?” He canted his head, tried his best to look adorable.
She snorted, rolled her eyes. “I’ve learned that guys who talk a good game usually do so in order to compensate for something.” Then she very pointedly glanced at his crotch.
“Low blow. You really know how to hurt a guy, Jorgie.”
“I bet you drive a sports car.”
“I do.”
“Let me guess, a heartbreaker red Corvette.”
“How did you know?”
“Overcompensating.”
“Ouch, ouch, ouch.”
“Do you have gigantic speakers on your music system?”
“Huh?”
“The music system in your house. Do you have gigantic speakers?”
“I’m scared to answer that.”
“I’ll take it as a yes.”
“Now I’m beginning to get a clue as to why your boyfriend bailed. You have no idea how to have fun.” The minute he said it, Quint could have bitten off his tongue as the teasing light evaporated from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he amended. “That was out of line. I didn’t mean it. You just had me on the ropes with the overcompensating thing and I came up swinging.”
“It’s okay,” she said more cheerfully than he expected. “You’re right. Brian left me for that very reason, because I didn’t know how to relax and have fun. That’s why I’m here.”
A rush of sympathy passed through him. “You’re going to be okay, Jorgie,” he said. “Everyone gets their heart broken.”
“Even you?”
“Well.” He chuckled. “I’ve managed to escape that fate so far, but most everyone else goes through it.”
“So you’re absolutely no help at all as a shoulder to cry on.”
“Maybe not.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But I could provide the comic relief.”
“Maybe later,” she said, sliding closed the shade over the window portal. “Now if you’ll excuse you, I’m going to take a nap.”
All righty, then. Quint knew when he’d