Good To Be Bad. Debbi Rawlins
guess that means no wife and kids at home.” She moistened her lips, the action threatening his resolve to stay on the business track.
“Nope. What about you?”
She gave a startled laugh. “I’m too young to be tied down.”
“I hear you.”
She frowned. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Go ahead.” He didn’t promise to answer, although he had a feeling he knew what the question was.
“How old are you?”
He smiled. “Too young to have been a professor when I had you as a student.”
“Seriously, you didn’t look much older than we did.”
“I’m thirty-one. You were in my class—when? five years ago?”
“Six.”
“Ah. You were the first class I taught after getting my Ph.D. I’d just turned twenty-five that spring.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You had to have entered college at a really young age.”
“Sixteen.”
“That must have been tough.”
He shrugged. “Not academically, but I definitely was socially challenged.”
She wrinkled her nose, and damn if even that didn’t make her look sexy. “I have another question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Did you know that the entire female portion of your class had the hots for you?”
Embarrassed, taken by surprise, Rob half grunted, half laughed. “Students were and still are off limits.”
“Which doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, I knew.”
“I see.”
He tilted his head slightly to the right, looking at her with teasing eyes. “You were one of those females.”
Color climbed her cheeks, and she picked up her iced tea. “I was only twenty,” she murmured.
“Now it’s my turn to be flattered.”
She started laughing midsip and quickly lowered the glass and licked the splattered moisture from her lips. “I deserved that.”
“No comment.”
“Good move.”
He smiled. Neither diplomacy nor chivalry had shut him up. He was too busy watching her tongue sweep her lower lip to think of anything clever to say. And how that tiny dimple flashed at the corner of her mouth, calling further attention to that wide sexy mouth of hers.
Their eyes met. Neither of them spoke.
For an instant he recalled the first time he’d seen her in one of his lectures, sitting midway up the stadium-style seating. There had to have been at least a hundred students, but the light shining on her wild auburn hair had caught his eye. She’d given him a shy smile that forced his gaze down to his notes for the next forty minutes.
“You folks ready to order?”
Karrie blinked at the waitress as if she had no idea what the woman was talking about.
Before Rob could rebound and respond, the waitress said, “Maybe I should give you a few more minutes.”
“Great,” Karrie said at the same time Rob said, “We’re ready.”
The waitress smiled. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“I’ll just order a salad,” Karrie murmured and closed her menu. “I know you’re anxious to get this meeting over with.”
“No, please, take your time.”
She set the menu aside, braced her arms on the table and leaned forward. “You’re right. We don’t object to your dig, and it’s entirely reasonable to assume that by tomorrow afternoon I’ll be getting back to you with written consent. Tomorrow morning I have to check with county records. My plane was delayed or I would have already done that.”
“What are you looking for at county records?” He didn’t like the way she was all business suddenly.
Her gaze narrowed slightly. “Do you expect to find anything?”
“No.” He shrugged. “I mean I hope the kids find a few arrowheads and maybe some broken pottery. Just to keep the dig interesting. But generally I just want them to go through the paces.”
She nodded. “So we should have no problem.”
“None.” Shit, he hoped not. As far as he knew, his friend Joe Tonopah was the only one who believed there might be a Paiute burial ground in the area. “What’s Sanax planning on doing with the land?”
“Nothing, so far. It was bought on speculation a long time ago. Personally, I think it’ll end up being a zero for us.”
Good. He didn’t have to feel too bad about not being totally honest with her. His friend Joe was eighty-eight and the diabetes had taken its toll. Rob had made him a promise he intended to keep. Even if it meant deceiving Karrie.
THE WAITRESS RETURNED, and after they’d ordered and she left, an awkward silence stretched. Damn, Karrie wished she’d never met Madam Zora. Bad enough her nerves were shot to hell just sitting across from him, but every time her mind wandered back to what the psychic had predicted two months ago, she’d get all jittery inside.
Hard to come across mature and sophisticated when her palms were so clammy that she avoided picking up her glass. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t his student anymore, and he wasn’t married. If he was attached, he’d have to speak up. Because as soon as business was out of the way, she was going for it.
Talk about the perfect Man To Do. He fit the bill in every way. She’d had such an incredible crush on him all those years ago. In fact, that crush had actually hampered her social life. None of the boys at school could compete with the handsome professor. He’d been such a fascinating bundle of contradictions. He knew his material extraordinarily well, and taught with a passion that had fascinated her with a subject that had never made her pause. And yet there was a shy quality that showed up the second he wasn’t talking about the land, or the artifacts. He’d blushed back then, and every time he did, half the women in the class swooned. It was just so charming.
Everything had gotten worse when she’d gone on her first dig with him. Because that’s when she’d seen him without his shirt. Oh, mama, that wasn’t something she’d ever forget. Sculpted like a masterwork, tan, muscled so perfectly it was more than human, it was art.
If she’d dreamed about him once, she’d dreamed about him a hundred times. Every one of those dreams had ended with them making love. Of course, he’d made it perfectly clear that she was a student and only that back then. But now?
She could see he was interested. She wasn’t leaving until tomorrow night. Which left a tantalizing window of opportunity, and what was the Man To Do about if not seizing the day?
She’d been in the e-mail group for a little over a year, enjoying the frank discussions with incredibly bright and witty women from all walks of life. Their most daring project was the Man To Do. The whole concept was wild and wicked. Find a guy who didn’t fit into the lifetime plan, who wasn’t someone to take home to Mom. Have a night, a weekend, whatever, that was purely for pleasure. For getting one’s ya-yas out. Only, there hadn’t been one man in New York who’d piqued her interest. Not enough to actually do the deed.
Despite the image of the Sex and the City and all that, she wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of gal. She’d always had to have some kind of emotion attached to sex, or she wasn’t interested. Not necessarily love, but something more than lust.
Rob Philips fit