Good To Be Bad. Debbi Rawlins
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As they passed the Ice bar, she remembered that this was the last place they could stop before entering the elevators that would take them to the car. She slowed and touched his arm.
Before he even looked at her, she changed her mind. She was exhausted, fueled only by adrenaline and tantalizing memories. Oh, yeah, she still wanted him. But the idea of a Man To Do was more provocative than it was her style. Despite her past with Rob, she didn’t really know him. She’d been giddy from having him react to her in a way she’d dreamed about when she sat in his class, but was she really prepared to sleep with him on the cusp of this business deal?
It was a crying shame, but she’d better put the brakes on before things got completely out of hand. It was all too enticing, too easy, and that could only lead to trouble. Damn, but it would have been fine.
She smiled at him, reluctant to break the news. “To be honest, I was going to remind you about that drink I promised. But I think we should wait until tomorrow.”
“Sure.” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but his discomfort was clear. “No problem.”
“Yes, there is. You don’t understand. I know I’m just one of many students who passed through your classroom. But I had a real thing for you back then.” She hesitated when panic flickered in his eyes. Too much information, she decided. “I was young. Basically it was a stupid crush.” She sighed, shaking her head as she inched away. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Probably because I’m so tired I can’t think straight.”
“Hey, wait.” He touched her arm and then kept abreast of her when she didn’t stop. “My fault,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come on to you.”
“You were just reacting to what I put out there, and I’m sorry about that. We have work to get done, and I shouldn’t have…”
“No, that’s not what—” They got to the elevators along with another couple and Rob stayed quiet as they all got inside a waiting car.
The tense silent ride lasted to the third level where they got out. The other couple got out at the same time and followed close behind, finally stopping at a yellow convertible.
Rob’s silver Sequoia was parked only three cars away, and he opened the door 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.
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