Old Enough To Know Better. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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Old Enough To Know Better - Vicki Lewis Thompson Mills & Boon Temptation

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How do you like your fantasies packaged?”

      I’m looking at it. “Oh, I’m probably like most women.”

      “I seriously doubt that. Play fair, now. I’ve pretty much admitted to buying something at Slightly Scandalous. The least you can do is confess that you’ve worn something from there.”

      As if. “Uh, well, I—”

      “Your pink cheeks are giving you away, Kasey.” He smiled. “I know a bad girl when I see one. But for the record, wearing an outfit from Slightly Scandalous is okay with me.”

      She knew she was in over her head. But the thing was, she’d nearly accomplished her mission. Sam looked like a man who could hardly wait to get her alone.

      Picking up her goblet, she borrowed his line. “I’ll have to take the Fifth on that.” Then she drained the glass before setting it back on the table.

      He let out a breath. “You know how to turn a man inside out, don’t you?” He picked up the wine bottle and refilled her glass.

      She made a command decision not to drink another drop. Finishing off her glass had seemed like a big-girl sort of gesture, but now she was feeling light-headed and giggly. Any more of that delicious red stuff and she was liable to tell Sam her entire life story. Nope, she’d stick with water from here on out.

      In fact, a drink of water might settle her jumpy nerves. The way Sam was looking at her, she had the feeling she’d started something she might not be ready to finish. She picked up her water glass and took a cooling swallow.

      “I’ve been dying to ask you—how did you get that little scar on your lip?”

      She choked on the water. As an unplanned distraction, it worked well. Sam was out of his seat in no time, patting her back and murmuring words of concern.

      Gradually she could breathe again, and she begged him to go back to his seat. Other diners had begun to stare and even the waiter had come by to make sure she was all right.

      Sam eased back into his chair. “Sure you’re okay?”

      “Fine. Just embarrassed. You’d think by now I’d have learned how to swallow water.”

      “I hope it wasn’t something I said.”

      “No, no, nothing like that.”

      “If mentioning that little scar upset you, I’m really sorry.”

      “Goodness, no. It’s an old childhood injury. Most of the time I forget it’s even there.” She’d always cherished that scar, though, because it reminded her of Sam. He really had been her fantasy guy for years. That was one negative thing about running into him again. Chances were he wouldn’t be able to live up to the image she’d created for him.

      “I’ll bet you were goofing around on the playground equipment,” he said.

      “Something like that.” And they needed to get off this subject before she let some detail slip.

      “I remember wrestling with my buddy’s kid sister years ago in their swimming pool. I got too rough and she ended up needing stitches. I felt like a jerk.”

      She had to work very hard not to react. “You shouldn’t have. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”

      “Yeah, but I should have been more careful. She was just a kid—only about seven or eight. I can’t even remember her name, but I can still see that little face, with an ice pack crammed against her mouth.”

      “I’m sure she recovered.” Although she missed you dreadfully and carried you in her heart for years.

      “Oh, I’m sure she did, too. I checked with my buddy after a couple of months, to make sure. But then he went into the service and we lost track of each other. I haven’t tried to find him since I got back. I should. Maybe that’s why we’re having this conversation, to remind me to look up my old buddy Jim and see if he’s back in town.”

      And Kasey couldn’t stop him from doing that, either. One evening with Jim could be enough to blow her cover. She might as well enjoy this date with Sam, because there was a good chance she’d never have another one.

      BY THE END OF THE MEAL, Sam hadn’t made much progress in getting to know Kasey. And he wanted to get to know her, because physically she was driving him crazy. In the old days he would have given in to that physical urge and figured that he’d get around to the friendship part later. Now that seemed backward to him. He wanted to establish a relationship first.

      Kasey wasn’t helping. Being a mystery woman seemed to appeal to her, and that attitude had one-night stand written all over it. Maybe that’s what she had in mind. After all, she’d made the first move and she’d insisted on paying for dinner. He’d tried to get the check, but she’d outmaneuvered him.

      So maybe he was designated as her boy-toy for the night. He wasn’t about to fall in with that plan. Of course he wasn’t. Not even if he did find himself staring at her mouth and longing to stare at her cleavage.

      He wanted to touch her…all over. As they left the restaurant, he settled for holding her hand. Even that simple contact aroused him. He should be offended at the idea that she might want him just for sex and nothing more. Instead he was challenged by it.

      Unfortunately, the next part of the evening wouldn’t allow much conversation between them. He had about three blocks before they’d be drawn into the noisy world of the Cactus Club. After that, they’d have to read lips.

      “Do your folks live in Phoenix?” he asked, trying yet again.

      “Uh, no. Gilbert.”

      “That area sure is growing. Is that where you went to school?”

      “Not exactly. Whoops, the light’s about to change. We’ll have to hurry to make it.” She tugged at his hand.

      He resisted. “Maybe I don’t care.”

      “Oh.” She gave him a wary glance. “All right. We can wait until the light changes.”

      He decided the time had come for some gentle persuasion. Taking her other hand, he pulled her closer. “Kasey, why are you hiding from me?”

      She laughed. “Hiding? Why would you say that?”

      “Because every time I try to learn something about you, you find a way to avoid answering.” He released his grip on her hands and cupped her shoulders. What silky skin she had. “I want to get to know you.” He wondered if he was imagining the quick look of panic in her eyes.

      Then it was gone, and she smiled. “In what way?”

      In every way. “You know—the kinds of things you liked to do as a kid, the type of music you like, whether you have a favorite team or hate sports altogether.”

      “I like baseball, and my favorite team is the Diamondbacks.”

      “Me, too.” But out of all the things he’d asked, she’d picked the least personal one to answer. Most everyone in Phoenix liked the home team. Nevertheless,

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