Good To Be Bad. Debbi Rawlins
for her and waited until she got in. He climbed in behind the wheel and immediately started the engine.
Disappointment gripped her when he backed out of the space without saying a word, and then turned on the radio. The chicken. She thought about resuming their conversation, forcing the issue, but then decided silence wasn’t so bad. Maybe they could start fresh tomorrow. Pretend the kiss never happened. Keep their relationship professional. No real damage had been done. Thank goodness.
After they left Mandalay Bay they stayed on the strip, and Rob focused his attention on the considerable amount of traffic for a weeknight. He took Flamingo to Paradise and she could see the Hilton.
It wasn’t too late to invite him into the bar. She hated ending the night like this. She’d never get any sleep. At least she could take comfort in knowing the attraction wasn’t one-sided. He had responded. In a big way.
Nope. She wasn’t going to say another word. She’d said enough. Let him make the next move.
He pulled the SUV up to the curb in front of the Hilton, far enough from the valet sign to indicate they weren’t parking.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said breezily, and put her hand on the door handle. “I’ll be at our branch office and at the county clerk’s tomorrow. I expect to have an agreement drawn by the end of the day.”
He frowned. “What kind of agreement?”
“Relax. The usual stuff. The property belongs to Sanax, so anything you find does, too.”
“Right. Look, Karrie…”
Her door opened, startling them both. A uniformed doorman held his hand out. “Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to the Hilton.”
“Uh, hi.” She glanced helplessly at Rob and then started to get out. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
A moment before the bellman closed her door, Rob leaned across the seat and smiled. “By the way, I had a thing for you, too.”
YEAH, AS IF SHE WAS SUPPOSED to be able to sleep now. She pulled on her Donald Duck nightshirt, and then tied her hair back so she could scrub her face and brush her teeth. Taking out some of her frustration on her face wouldn’t be a bad thing.
The dry desert air did not treat her aging skin kindly.
She peered more closely at herself in the mirror. Only twenty-six. Looking like sixty, and acting like sixteen. She groaned aloud and then furiously soaped her loofah. How could Madison be out of the country at a time like this. She was going to absolutely die when she found out how close the psychic’s predictions had come so far.
Karrie still hadn’t gotten over Rob’s confession. She would’ve bet her chance at the apartment on Sixth that he hadn’t even noticed her six years ago. Even when she’d forced herself to sit in the first row of his lecture those two times.
Maybe he’d just said that to make her feel better about what she’d admitted? God, she would not do this. Replaying and analyzing conversations always made her crazy.
Too late. Her brain was definitely fried. She kept expecting to find a hidden camera and find out she was the unwitting star of a new reality show. This was all just too bizarre. And she couldn’t even call Nancy or Kyra or anyone. Everyone she knew lived on the East Coast and would have been asleep for a couple of hours.
She finished her cleansing ritual by patting extra cream under her eyes and then went to the window and parted the drapes. The strip was visible, bright with hundreds of thousands of lights in every size, shape and color, stretching for over four miles.
What an odd place. All this hustle and bustle in the middle of nowhere. Of course she remembered when the city was a lot more isolated without the sprawl of suburbs so far to the east and west. People asked her all the time if she missed it. She honestly didn’t. Not for a second.
She wondered what kept Rob here. Besides his job. He could, after all, teach anywhere. A thought struck her. She didn’t even know where he was from. It was funny how much detail she’d made up about him while she used to sit in class fantasizing.
One day she’d convince herself that he was from California, an ex-surfer with his sandy, blond-streaked hair and broad shoulders. On a particularly creative day she’d imagined he was from Australia but had lived in the States long enough to lose his accent.
Chuckling at herself, she grabbed her laptop, sank into a blue upholstered chair and swung her feet up onto the bed. If she couldn’t sleep she might as well get some work done.
“Damn.”
The gang at Eve’s Apple. How could she have forgotten?
She fumbled with her modem cable, got connected and immediately went to e-mail. Heart pounding, she started typing.
To: The gang at Eve’s Apple
From: [email protected] Subject: Yowzah!
Okay, I know you guys haven’t heard from me in a while… I won’t make excuses. Last time I wrote I think I told you about seeing a psychic and how she predicted that I’d meet a man from my past. Well, guess what? Stuff is happening just like she said it would. No lie!
The guy is an old professor—he’s not really old, only five years older than me—but he was a prof of mine during my junior year. I had the most major crush on him. Really major. But so did all the other girls in the class. He’s that much of a hottie.
Anyway, I’ve just seen him again. Tonight. We had dinner. He remembered me. I’m totally blown away. Not only that, but he admitted that he had the hots for me, too.
We talked, kissed, he asked me to go to his place. I didn’t. Bad timing. But if I have the chance again, I’m going for it.
Did I tell you he has the best smile? Kind of shy and boyish. Very disarming. Because the boy can kiss!! Damn, I’m having trouble typing just remembering. Oh, and great abs!
I’ll write again tomorrow after I see him. Send positive thoughts. I’m a nervous wreck.
Love,
Karrie
She signed off and didn’t even consider switching to work as she had planned. The furious and cathartic typing had done its job. All she could think about suddenly was crawling into bed.
Tonight she’d get all the rest she could. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Tomorrow night even bigger. Because she had no intention of sleeping alone.
4
KARRIE HOPED this was a good idea. If not, it was too late. Rob turned and saw her as she hesitated at the classroom door. He looked awesome in snug worn jeans that molded his thighs, his shirt open at the throat, his sun-streaked hair slightly messy and touching his collar.
He also looked surprised. Definitely not pleased.
Oops.
Only five kids were in the classroom, all sitting in the front row. He said something to them and then slid off the edge of his desk and met her at the door.
He made no secret of not wanting her in the classroom by forcing her to back up into the hall. He closed the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry. I didn’t know you were teaching.” In fact, she thought the semester was finished. “The department secretary told me where I could find you.”
“No problem. It’s not really a class.” He glanced over his shoulder as if there was anything but the closed door to see, and then stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “What’s up?”
She’d wanted to come and deliver the good news in person. Obviously that was a mistake. “Look, I’ll catch you later.”
“Wait.” He caught her wrist when she turned to go.