Irresistible Fortune. Wendy Etherington
so I—” He stopped, then sipped his wine as if giving himself time to gather his thoughts. “Though I’m only by myself when I’m not hooking up with a babe from the beach.”
Brenna carefully set her wineglass on the table. “Naturally.”
Still, there was something odd about his abrupt bragging. Was it true or just talk? He was gorgeous and successful enough to have anybody he wanted, but was a cute girl in a bikini his only requirement?
He’d sworn he wasn’t interested in the waitress the other night. And, come to think of it, why wasn’t he?
The flirty woman should have been a fantasy incarnate for Dr. Lothario—obvious, easy and temporary.
What was his deal?
“Today, however,” he began, his tone quiet, “I’ve thought a lot about you.”
“So you were ticked off all day?”
He smiled—not the debauched one, but the one that made her breath catch. The one she wished was genuine. “At times.” His gaze moved to hers. “We’re really very … different. And yet I like debating with you. I like your strength and determination. I especially liked kissing you.”
Her lips tingled as if he’d touched them. “Didn’t we agree last night was an impulsive mistake?”
“We did. I didn’t say it was smart to like kissing you.”
“I know why I don’t like having the hots for you. Why don’t you like—”
“Last night you said I was delusional for thinking you had the hots for me.”
The man never let anything go. “I think after the impulsive and unwise make-out session last night, we can stipulate we have the hots for each other.”
He forked up another bite of fish. “Agreed.”
“So why aren’t you happy about our attraction? Given your reputation, you don’t seem overly picky about your romantic liaisons.”
“Romantic liaisons,” he repeated, shaking his head. “That description is exactly why our chemistry is inconvenient. I’ll be here a few weeks, a month at the most. My distractions from work are short-lived, and I never get involved with anyone exclusively. You seem like the long-term, exclusive type.”
“I am.” And the fact that he recognized those qualities about her, and was trying to avoid her as a result, was practically chivalrous. So all the more confusing. “However, my body and my brain seem to be disconnected right now.”
“I know the feeling.”
Certain the frustrated heat in his eyes was reflected in her own, she scooted to the end of the booth. “I should go.”
He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t.”
Her pulse pounded at the point of contact. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. The desire, unfortunately, didn’t vanish.
She wanted him beyond reason or practicality. And she sure as hell didn’t care about fleeting—in fact, temporary was best.
As long as he could temporarily satisfy the needy ache that had settled deep inside her, ruling over every thought and action, he could then leave the island and take all temptation with him.
“At least finish your dinner,” he said, releasing her. “You were kind to bring it.”
She moved back in front of her plate and took a gulp of wine. Her heart was pounding irrationally hard. “It was meant to help us get along as professionals.”
“But we probably shouldn’t get along.”
“Good point.” Again, she sipped from her glass. “Why don’t we talk about something we don’t agree on?”
“That’s pretty much everything.”
“Great. Keep your mouth moving.”
His pupils dilated.
“Talking,” she clarified, feeling a rush of panic. He was so close. Too close. “Keep talking.”
“Fine. When we dove today, I found some—”
“Have I ever told you about my grandmother?” She broke in, realizing this was a topic that was sure to divide them.
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