really want to know what I want to do?” he asked.
She blinked. “Of course.”
He set the empty glass on the bar and turned to face her. “I want to take you back to my place and take off all our clothes.”
Her lips parted, though she didn’t make a sound. A rosy flush washed over her cheeks and her eyes darkened. He’d caught her off guard, but he knew an aroused woman when he saw one. The knowledge made him even hotter.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he said. “You’re not that kind of girl. But you are a woman, and the idea turns you on, doesn’t it? Admit it.”
She shook her head. “I’m not admitting anything.”
Which, to his way of thinking, was as good as a yes. “All right then. Why don’t we go someplace quieter and have some coffee. And talk.” Talking wasn’t as good as taking their clothes off, but it could be its own kind of foreplay.
There was a coffee shop around the corner and over coffee drinks that cost as much as his whiskey they talked about their families. A nice, safe, first-date conversation. He learned she was the youngest of four children, the second girl, with two brothers sandwiched between her and her older sister. Her parents lived in Houston and her siblings were scattered around the state. He told her about his mum, who’d raised him and his three sisters on a factory worker’s wages.
“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Rachel said.
He nodded. “She is. But after growing up with all that estrogen, it was nice to get out on my own.”
“Maybe that’s what really attracted you to lacrosse—that it’s such a macho game.”
“Is that what you think? Then you definitely should come to our first game.”
“I wouldn’t have any idea what was going on. I don’t know anything about the game.”
“If you’re going to be hanging out with me, it’s time you learned.”
“And am I going to be hanging out with you?”
Their eyes met and he felt again the rush of blood straight south. “I don’t think there’s any doubt about that, do you?”
She looked away, but a slow smile formed on her lips. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Oh yeah.” This might be one time when he really lived up to his nickname “Wild Man.”
RACHEL WAITED until the next day to return Rhonda’s call. She drummed her nails on the smooth surface of her desk and counted the rings while she waited for her sister to answer. Four…five…“Hello?”
“Finally. What took you so long?”
“I was driving and I had to find a place to pull over,” Rhonda said.
Heaven forbid big sister live dangerously. “That’s what headsets are for,” Rachel said.
“Tell that to all those headset-wearing people with banged-up cars. But I know you didn’t call me to argue about cell phones and driving. What’s up?”
“You called me,” Rachel said. “Last night?”
“Oh, yes. Why didn’t you answer then? What were you doing?”
Engaging in what amounted to verbal foreplay with a very sexy man, Rachel thought. She ought to say just that and shock her big sister, but then Rhonda would probably feel compelled to lecture her on safe sex or the evils of promiscuity or something. Not that Rachel was promiscuous, but she didn’t feel like debating the point with Rhonda. “I was busy,” she said. “What do you want?”
“I want to know if you’ve abandoned this crazy idea of going on television with this whole man-taming thing.”
Of course. Rhonda lived in fear that one of her society friends would learn she was related to the woman who wrote the Man Taming column for Belinda magazine. All that talk about sex—so tacky, don’t you know? “Why would I abandon the idea?” Rachel said. “It’s a great idea and it’s going to be very successful.”
“You could be successful in so many other ways,” Rhonda said. “You don’t have to stoop to this.”
Of course Rhonda saw all this talk about sex as beneath her or her sister. Rachel bit back an angry retort and decided to take a different approach—one that relied on one of her own positive reinforcement principles. “I saw the article about the Winter Fantasy ball,” she said. “Congratulations.”
As Rachel had hoped, her words threw Rhonda off balance. There was a long silence, then Rhonda cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said. “I was really honored to be named official hostess.”
Rachel resisted the urge to laugh. After all the money Harrison had donated to the effort, if Rhonda hadn’t been named hostess, heads would have rolled. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” she said.
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” Rhonda asked.
Rachel did laugh this time. “What do you mean? You’re my sister. Can’t I be nice to my sister?”
“I get it. You’re just trying to make it up to me for embarrassing me all these months with that column of yours.”
“If you’re embarrassed, that’s your problem, not mine,” Rachel said coolly. “I’m very proud of my work.”
“Oh please. Man taming?” Rhonda lowered her voice. “It sounds so…so slutty.”
Rachel laughed again. “Obviously you’ve never read my column or you’d know that it has nothing to do with sex. In fact, maybe you ought to read it. You might learn something that would help your marriage.”
“My marriage is just fine, thank you very much.” Rhonda’s voice was clipped, conveying her deep offense. Then she responded with a classic Rhonda retort. “At least I have a husband.”
“Never mind that,” Rachel snapped. “I’m sorry if it embarrasses you. You’ll just have to find a way to get over that.”
“I’m not thinking of me right now,” Rhonda said. “I’m thinking of you. No man in his right mind is going to want to be seen anywhere near a woman known as the Man Tamer. You might as well check yourself into a convent this minute.”
“A real man wouldn’t be threatened by the idea.” She tried not to sound defensive, but Rhonda must have heard something in her voice anyway.
“Tell me how many dates you’ve had since that column of yours started running?” Rhonda asked.
Rachel smiled. “I had a date just last night,” she said.
“Who with?”
“None of your business. I’m seeing him again on Friday.”
“You’d better tell me who it is.”
“Why should I?”
“If you don’t, I’ll tell Mom about the time you spent the weekend with that guitarist when you told her you were at the beach with friends.”
“That was five years ago.”
“You think Mom won’t care? She was a virgin when she married Dad, you know.” A fact both girls had heard often in their teen years, much to their deep embarrassment.
“I know.” Rachel hesitated, imagining the lectures she’d have to endure from their mother, who still clung to the fantasy that a woman who had remained single in her late twenties was as pure as a preadolescent milkmaid. “All right, it’s Garret Kelly.”
“Who?” Rhonda was no doubt searching her mental database of socially prominent eligible bachelors and coming up blank. Which meant her sister was dating a nobody. The horror!
Rachel’s