This was his way of reclaiming his own image. He didn’t really give a damn about what the anonymous readers on the ends of the ethernet thought, but he was not a cheat—yes, he played, but all the playmates had fun. And he’d get even the world’s most uptight woman to appreciate some fun.
His blood quickened, but he forced his brain to stay open for duty. He went into the WomanBWarned site and registered—under his own name—and then went to the Mr 3 Dates and You’re Out thread to comment.
EthanRush: Looking for another side to this little story? What happened to balance and verification of information? Neither of those things are apparent on this bitch-fest. So how about a challenge? The woman in WomanBWarned herself—OlderNWiser—has agreed to a series of dates with me, Mr 3 Dates and You’re Out. As she’s Chief Judge and Executioner around here, she’s agreed to give me a fair trial.
Three dates, of course.
She’ll play them her way. I’ll play them mine.
We’ll report back and you can decide—who’s the honest one and who’s the user?
Who’s the victor?
The comment appeared beneath all the others. He’d well and truly thrown down the gauntlet. What he needed now were some supportive comments to get traffic his way and stack the odds in his favour. Happily, he had some guys who knew him well enough to know his tongue was—partly—in his cheek. Guys liked sport, and he was a team player. His team would get behind him. He put the link on his social networking page, then shut the laptop and closed his eyes.
And then it hit him.
This was mad. This wasn’t what was supposed to have happened. He was supposed to have gone in there all guns blazing and torn shreds off her. Demand she take down the thread, take down the whole damn site, and totally threaten to sue her.
Okay, he had threatened that.
But only after he’d been struck by a far more entertaining idea. The threat had simply been a way to push her into accepting that far more entertaining idea. With her OlderNWiser handle he’d figured he’d be facing down some ancient hardened up crone, but in reality she looked like one of the fairies on his three-year-old niece’s miniature china teaset. All fine bones and fine features in her heart-shaped face, with her hair tumbling loose and kinking at the ends. And, yes, his thoughts had immediately kinked.
He’d have to be careful how he played this, because he refused to end up in a mess. He did charming and nice—never messy. But he’d teach her a lesson—Nadia Keenan was going down.
No, not sex—there’d be no sliding along sun-kissed limbs, no stroking delicate collarbones, no relentlessly touching ‘til she begged for mercy and then screamed her ecstasy in his mouth. No matter how vivid that fantasy was, an even bigger temptation bit. He’d get her hot and twisted and then be a total gentleman. Restraint all the way. And she’d hate him even more than she already did.
He couldn’t get over the contradiction—she looked sweet but she savaged people with her vindictive website. Who’d hurt her, and how? She’d said it wasn’t personal, but there had to have been a guy who’d broken what little heart she had. Her online ID even acknowledged she was OlderNWiser.
He flipped the laptop open again, went back to WomanBWarned and clicked on the archives link.
To win any game you had to be prepared. You had to understand your opponent’s weakness.
Nadia wished Megan was home, but she was in Greece for three weeks, meeting her boyfriend Sam’s family, meaning the flat they shared was quiet and empty and totally lacking in advice—the walls weren’t answering back.
She pushed aside the clothes-hangers in her wardrobe, desperately searching despite knowing exactly what items were there and that whatever it was she wanted wasn’t.
Because she didn’t know what she wanted and she didn’t have the funds to shop.
She had to ace it over Ethan Rush, but he had every angle covered. Good looking, intelligent, loaded—that was obvious from his clothes and his confidence. Everything came easily to him—even her acquiescence to his stupid idea. She had to shake him from his self-satisfied, smug little perch. But how?
She picked up the bag she’d tossed on her bed. Her phone rang just as she got hold of it. Megan—hooray for serendipity.
‘What do I wear to a date I don’t want to go on?’ Nadia asked straight off.
‘A date?’ Megan’s high-pitched amazement was no surprise. ‘Why don’t you want to go?’
‘Because he’s a complete jerk who’s bullied me into it.’
‘Nadia,’ Megan scoffed, ‘no one bullies you.’
Ten hours ago Nadia would have agreed. ‘If I don’t date him he says he’s going to sue me for defamation and out me as the woman behind WomanBWarned.’
‘Don’t tell me he’s on it?’
‘Yeah—has his own thread. Mr 3 Dates and You’re Out. Totally smooth snake who’s only interested in sex. Moves on immediately after. Serial dating offender, seriously arrogant. More than one victim has commented.’
‘He used that to get you to agree to go on a date with him?’
‘Three dates.’
‘Three?’ Megan started to giggle. ‘Oh, he’s good.’
‘He’s not good. He’s mad.’
‘But he won’t waste money suing. Just tell Hammond you run the site. They won’t care. It’s in your own hours and on your own equipment.’
‘I worked too hard to get that job. I’m not screwing it up.’ Independence mattered—achievement mattered. Nadia wasn’t failing now, having secured a great flat and a great job when no one in her family had believed a “little thing” like her could—or, worse, should. They’d thought a big city was too bad a place for her, so she’d gone to the biggest city in the country and got employed by one of the biggest, most traditional-to-a-T firms. That was the only way she could to prove herself to them—they’d just be baffled by her blog.
‘I’m reading the thread. He sounds interesting.’ Megan drew in a long, slow breath. ‘Good sex. When did you last have sex?’
Nadia banged the wardrobe door shut. It was all right for Megan. She and Sam were still in that honeymoon phase, so she was getting it at least twice a day. Nadia hadn’t had it twice in the last year. Or two.
‘Nadia.’ Megan’s tone totally changed. ‘Did you see his reply?’
Nadia’s blood iced up. ‘There wasn’t one.’ She ran into the lounge, where her computer dominated the dining table. Praise be to highspeed broadband, because the thread loaded in a flash. And it only took a flash to realise what he’d done.
‘He’s made it public. The dates.’ Her throat clogged. ‘Why? Everyone is going to know we’re going out.’ And
