Good To Be Bad. Debbi Rawlins
He still had the most amazing brown eyes she’d ever seen.
Surprisingly, he looked even better than she remembered. And she’d remembered the details for far too long. The boyish grin was the same, kind of reticent and shy, but his face was more weathered. Not just tanned but more chiseled. As if he’d cosmetically added the lines fanning out at the corners of his eyes, and the small scar at his jaw had been strategically placed just so.
Hell, he’d be a perfect candidate for one of Madison’s photo shoots. He had just the right look. Rugged, sexy, his intelligence shining in those remarkable eyes. Her gaze went back to that perfect little scar on his chin. Just the touch to make him seem mysterious and a wee bit dangerous. “What happened?” she asked, pointing to the mirrored spot on her own chin.
His fingers automatically went to the scarred skin. Even his hands were tan. “Rock climbing.”
Not the outdoor type, she mentally shuddered. “You’re lucky that’s the only memento.”
His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Not exactly.” He leaned back and briefly lifted his shirt to expose a nasty gash under his rib cage.
Karrie swallowed hard. Yeah, the scar was ugly and barely healed, but that wasn’t what had her trying to catch her breath. The chest of her dreams had become even more enticing. He had a set of abs on him that sent an arrow of heat straight to the juncture of her thighs. “Ouch,” she said finally. “When did that happen?”
“About two months ago.”
“Around here?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “Yeah.”
“Come on, there’s a story here.”
“I don’t want to ruin my macho image.”
She laughed. “You have to tell me now.”
“I should’ve ordered an appetizer.”
“You’d have to stop chewing eventually.”
His slow grin made her feel like a silly schoolgirl again, giddy and, astonishingly, a little light-headed. This whole thing was so unreal. He wasn’t just sexy but he actually had a personality. In class the only thing she’d known for sure was that he loved his career. Now she saw there was more to him than digging shards.
“You were climbing at Red Rock, right? What’s the name of that place where beginners go in the Calico Basin area? I think it’s called Caustic?”
He winced.
She grinned. “Am I right?”
“How do you know about Caustic? You’re gonna make me look like a real wimp and tell me you climb, right?”
“God, no. Stairs. That’s my limit. Quit changing the subject.”
“Seriously, how do you know about Caustic?”
“I lived here, remember?”
“How long did you stay after college?”
“About a minute.”
He chuckled. “You liked it here that much, eh?”
“I’m from Searchlight. Enough said.”
He reared his head back. The look on his face went beyond surprise. He seemed displeased, which didn’t make sense. “Searchlight?”
“I take it you’ve been there.”
“Sure. It’s small.”
She smiled. “That was very diplomatic. Now, get back to the rock-climbing incident.”
“You’re ruthless.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay…” He rubbed his jaw near the tiny scar, looking distracted suddenly. “There’s this place in Henderson where you learn to climb. Indoors, simulated. You getting the picture?”
Karrie tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself, which brought the smile back to his lips. “I’m impressed that you even made the attempt.”
“A group of fourteen-year-olds weren’t so impressed. They laughed their asses off because they had to help the old geezer down the last ten feet.”
“But you were really hurt.”
“They didn’t know that at the time.” He studied her for a moment, his eyebrows coming together in a slight frown. “You look different.”
Slowly shaking her head, she shrugged. “Probably pale. We had a bad winter. Not much sun.”
“It’s your hair.”
“Oh.” She smoothed back the unruly curls. She’d left New York with a French braid, but that had been hours and two time zones ago. The best she’d been able to do on the taxi ride over was to brush it out and tie it back. “Are you saying different bad, or different good?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Very good, indeed.”
She felt the compliment to the tips of her toes, and her water glass held sudden interest. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I like your hair, too. It’s longer.”
“Yeah.” He looked embarrassed at the return volley. “I’d like to say I abandoned the geek look, but I just keep forgetting to get it cut.”
“A geek? You?”
He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, but not before she saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She had the feeling that if there’d ever been anything geeky about him it was because that’s the way he wanted to appear.
They weren’t so different. He’d embarked on his career at a young age and probably created a facade to support his image. She’d done the same after arriving in Manhattan. Convinced that she’d been the biggest hick to set foot in the city, she quickly devoured fashion magazines and spent money she could ill afford on clothes and hair care. She’d even skipped meals so that she could eat skimpy, pricey appetizers and sip expensive wine in the In restaurants.
Foolish and shallow maybe, but she didn’t regret any of it. She had a great job, a terrific salary and unlimited potential if she continued to play the game. Which reminded her of the reason for being here.
“There’s something else I want to go over with you,” she said, at the same time she caught their waitress’s eye and motioned the woman over. “I’m working on a press release about the dig.”
“Pardon?”
The waitress showed up before Karrie could respond. She ordered a glass of wine for herself and another for him. He looked annoyed, but she couldn’t tell if it was over the press release or her assertiveness. Probably both.
The waitress had barely taken a step toward the bar when he asked, “What about this press release?”
“No big deal.” She hadn’t considered how honest to be with him. “Like any large corporation we’ve had a few go-rounds with the County and I’m looking to get some good press out of this.”
“This was your idea?”
She nodded. “I am in the PR department.”
“I don’t understand. Other than the press aspect, why are you involved?”
“The vice president in charge found out I knew the area and figured I might have some valuable insight. Which we both know means nothing. But I wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to strut my stuff.”
He sat back, his shoulders tensing, and showed excessive interest in the antics of two teenagers who had just joined their parents at a nearby table.
She waited for him to respond but he seemed willing to let the subject drop. “Do you have a problem dealing with me?”
He sent her a quick frown. “No. Why should