New York, Actually. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
He laughed. “I should take you along. You could read their minds and send me clues.”
“I’m a psychologist, not a clairvoyant.”
“So with this packed schedule of yours, when do you date?”
“I don’t.” Damn, she shouldn’t have said that. Not only did she sound like a loser, but a man like him would take it as a challenge. “I mean right now, I don’t date. I’m focusing on my work. I love my life exactly the way it is.”
“Now I understand why you do so much exercise.”
“Because I like keeping fit.”
“No, it’s because you’re not getting hot sex. So you have to find another way of relieving pent-up frustration and releasing endorphins.”
Molly gasped. “I am not frustrated! We don’t all walk around thinking about sex the whole time.” Until she’d met him. Since meeting him that was pretty much what she did.
“Not the whole time, but a lot of the time. And you must know that. You’re a psychologist. We cloak ourselves in the trappings of civility because that’s what society expects, but underneath we’re all driven by the same primal urges. Want to know what those are?” He leaned closer and she saw the devil gleam in his eyes. “To procreate and win bigger than the other guy.”
“This is why we are never having dinner.”
“We’re not having dinner because you’re too busy. And you’re too busy because you’ve substituted spin class and salsa for sex.”
“I would rather take a spin class than have sex with you.”
“Shouldn’t you have sex with me before you make that decision?” His smile widened and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Maybe you’re turning down the night of your life, Molly-with-no-second-name.”
“I have a last name. I just don’t choose to share it with you.”
“One meal.” His voice was wicked temptation. “And if you’re bored, I’ll never bother you again.”
Bored? No woman would ever be bored with him. But they’d be a lot of other things. Most of all they’d be vulnerable. There was no male weapon more lethal than dangerous charm. And this guy had it in spades. “No thanks.”
He gave her a long, searching look. “So who made you scared, Molly? Who made you choose spin class and salsa over sex?”
She was so used to hiding herself, it shook her that he’d seen through her veneer.
“I need to go. Thanks for the tea.” She tossed the cup in the waste bin, grabbed Valentine and ran back through the park, taking a shortcut that led to her apartment.
He was right of course.
She was scared.
If you fell, next time you were more careful where you stepped. And she’d fallen hard.
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