No Regrets. Cindi Myers
two work spaces.
He shook his head and pushed aside the report he’d been writing for a skip-trace firm that had subcontracted some work to him. Locating people who’d skipped out on bills and other obligations was tedious, but fairly lucrative. “I figured you’d be out of here by now. Off to class or something. Or maybe a date.” He couldn’t imagine a woman like Lexie spending many Friday nights alone.
She shook her head and moved into the room. “No class tonight. No date, either.” She glanced at him, seeming almost shy. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.” He ignored the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach that rose at her words. This was it. She was leaving him already. He couldn’t blame her. The job had been anything but exciting so far, and her paycheck was a third less than what she’d brought home from her previous employment. Still, he was going to miss her.
She sat in his client’s chair, crossed her legs and smoothed the skirt of her tropical print dress over her knees. She wore a red scarf today, the ends tied in a small bow on the left side of her neck.
“What did you want to talk about?” he prompted.
“I have a proposition for you.”
A proposition. The word set him on alert. Most of the propositions he’d encountered had been shady deals. “What is it?”
“Well…you and I seem to get along great.”
“Yes.” She wasn’t a hard woman to like.
“And I find you very attractive.”
“You do?” He’d thought he was past the point where such praise flattered him, but obviously he was wrong.
She smiled, the warmth in the look stoking a fire inside him. “Of course. And I believe you’re somewhat attracted to me as well.”
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t deny it but he wasn’t ready to reveal too much, either.
She shifted in the chair and smoothed her skirt again. He fought back a smile. It was different seeing her so…unsettled. She generally had more self-confidence than most women he’d met. “Do you remember I told you about the list I’d made? The list of one hundred things I intend to do?”
He nodded. He’d glimpsed the little red notebook poking out of the top of her purse a time or two and had wondered what was in it. “How many things have you done so far?”
“Only about five, but I’m working on the others.” She gave him a coy look. “I thought maybe you could help me with one of the items on my list.”
Oh yeah? “What’s that?”
“I think you and I would do well together as lovers.”
He blinked. Was his horny imagination getting the better of him? “Did you say what I think you said?”
“Yes. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “No. Not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He cringed at the hurt in her eyes, and tried to soften the rejection. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive. I do. But we have to work together every day. Adding sex to the equation isn’t a good idea.”
She lifted her chin, defiant. “I think you’re wrong. I can be a professional and do my job during the day and sleep with you at night. People do it all the time.”
Really? Was she that experienced with situations like this? “I don’t. Besides, I’m not exactly in the market for a relationship right now.”
“I’m not talking about anything serious. Just fun and sex.” She smiled. “I’m not ready to get serious about anyone, either, which is the reason I picked you. And it would only be for a few months—no more than six.”
He should have ended the discussion already, but her determination intrigued him. And what man wouldn’t be turned on by the idea that a woman wanted him that much? “Why is that?”
“In six months I plan to take an extended trip to Spain.”
“Another item on your list?”
“Yes. But I promise to find someone to take over my job here before I go, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
A relationship with a built-in expiration date. The idea was absurd, yet at the same time, held a certain appeal. He studied her a long moment, as if by staring at her enough, he’d figure out what was really going on inside that gorgeous head. “I didn’t think women thought that way,” he said.
“Thought what way?”
“About casual sex and temporary relationships. I thought those were male fantasies, while women were all about hearts and flowers and settling down.”
“Some women, maybe. Even me at some point in my life.”
“But not now?”
She shook her head. “I have too many things I want to do, things to learn and accomplish, places to see, people to meet. I can’t do all that if I’m tied to a relationship.”
Right. She made it sound so simple, but he couldn’t believe intimacy between two people was ever that simple. “I’m flattered,” he said. “But I still say no.”
Her expression clouded. “You’re not attracted to me?”
“I told you I am. Very.” He leaned toward her, eyes locked to hers, telegraphing just how strong the attraction was, how much he wanted her. Her pupils were dilated, her lips slightly parted like a woman overtaken by passion. At that moment it was all he could do not to clear his desk and start removing all their clothes. “A man would have to be dead not to be attracted to you,” he said, his voice low. “Last time I checked I still had a pulse.”
“Th-then what’s wrong?” she stammered.
What was wrong? He blinked, trying to remember his objection to her absurd proposition. He took a deep breath, but all that did was fill his head with the scent of her, flowery and feminine and setting off sparks along every primitive pathway between his brain and his sex organs. His body, at least, had already made up his mind about Lexie.
He tore his gaze away from hers and summoned his old willpower. Reasoning returned as his head cleared. “I’ve always had a policy of not mixing business with pleasure,” he said. “I don’t see any reason to back off from that now.” He almost winced. He sounded like some old coot with a steel rod for a backbone.
Instead of being angry, she looked amused. Superior. As if she knew how much he was bluffing. “Didn’t you ever hear ‘rules are made to be broken’?”
“Not by me. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.” Now he was channeling his father. He gripped the armrests of his desk chair and tried again. “Look. One of the things this job and my years as a cop have shown me is how screwed up life gets when people take too many chances and risk too many complications. They start out thinking they can handle it—one more hot check will take care of everything. One more time fudging on the books and they’ll be out of it. One more drink and they’ll stop. The next thing they know, they’re in too deep.”
Her expression told him she wasn’t buying it. “We’re not talking embezzlement or bank robbery here. We’re talking about two intelligent, healthy, single adults who are attracted to one another getting together to have a good time.” She leaned toward him, her voice low and breathy. “When was the last time you had a really good time?”
Words stuck in his throat. His pulse pounded at his temples and in his groin. He was close to giving in. Too close.
He pulled himself away from the edge, shoving his chair back and standing, putting some distance between them. “It doesn’t matter. I have a business