Lori Foster

Murphy's Law


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very demonstrative and outgoing businesswoman. But she was also rich as Midas, so it surprised him that she and Ashley might mingle socially. “You’re serious?”

      “Yeah. She seems nice enough.” Ending that subject, she curled her fingers around his. “I’m just busting to know…what’s the appeal?”

      Lost to her meaning, he raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

      Gesturing between them with her free hand, she said, “You, me, this little lust-fest you have going on. I’m not stacked. I’m not gorgeous. I haven’t been all that nice. And other than a few unruly comments, I haven’t led you on, not deliberately, anyway. So…” She lifted her shoulders. “Why me?”

      “You’re serious?”

      She nodded. “Believe it or not, men aren’t throwing themselves into my path. They don’t chase me. For the most part they ignore me just as I ignore them.”

      “You didn’t ignore me.”

      “I tried. You wouldn’t let me.”

      She looked genuinely perplexed, prompting him to kiss her knuckles. He was used to women who knew their own allure and used it to the fullest. He’d dated women whose charm got them anything and everything they wanted. He enjoyed the feminine guile—but he appreciated Ashley’s in-your-face attitude more.

      “It’s a lot of things.”

      “Like?”

      “You’re sexy.”

      She rolled her eyes. “You’re into teen bras and skinny legs?”

      “I love your fashion sense.”

      Laughing, she said, “Yeah, I can tell rummage sale couture is your speed.”

      “You’re unique and fun. And honest. I adore your hair. And your long legs. And your smiles. I see you, I hear your silliness, and I want to kiss you.”

      She tilted her head. “My silliness, huh?”

      “That audacious way you have of talking.” He’d seldom heard such imprudent bluster from grown men, much less a slip of a woman in outrageous clothing. “You’re honest to a fault, uncaring of the consequences. You know what you want and what you don’t want, and you spell it out.”

      She chewed her bottom lip before meeting his gaze. “Some would call me obnoxious.”

      “Maybe someone threatened by your confidence.”

      Her smile went crooked. “Is that how you see me? Confident?”

      “You have a candid approach to life that I find very sexy. And I can’t help wondering if you’ll be that decisive in bed.” He rubbed her knuckles again. “I hope so.”

      With an odd look on her face, she eased her hand away from him. “Uh, no, I wouldn’t.”

      “I don’t believe that. One feature of life always reflects another. You’re assertive, a woman in control. A woman who spells it out without shyness. Experienced. Forceful.”

      She looked so dumbstruck by his observations that he thought to reassure her.

      “I’m not criticizing, Ashley. I find your brazenness a real turn-on.”

      Her lips twitched before parting on a full-blown laugh. “This is too funny.”

      “It is?”

      With a shake of her head, she said, “Sorry, Quinton. But you’ve based your attraction on some huge misconceptions.”

      Very softly, Quinton said, “No, I don’t think so. I think I’m getting to know you pretty well.” And the more he knew her, the more he liked her.

      “Well, you missed something somewhere because I’m not what you think I am.”

      “In what way?”

      “First off, I’m not so hot in the sack, so get that idea out of your head.”

      Quinton settled back, ready to be enlightened. And about damn time. He’d spent too long trying to get her to open up. If she’d had a bad experience with a man, that’d explain much. “You’re saying a past lover failed to satisfy you?”

      Her face went hot. “No.”

      He’d never thought to see Ashley blush. “I refuse to believe it was your fault. Men have it easy when it comes to sex. For a woman it’s more complicated.” His voice dropped. “Pleasure isn’t something that can be rushed or taken for granted.”

      “Okay… This is way out of hand. I’m not going to talk about this.” She snatched up the menu and stared blankly at it.

      “Come on, Ash, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. And don’t judge me by other men.”

      Through her teeth, and with her gaze still glued to the plastic menu, she growled, “I’m not.”

      He caught the edge of the menu and lowered it so he could see her face. Her cheeks were pink, her gaze elusive. “If other men haven’t encouraged your dynamic personality, especially in bed, then they’re fools.”

      She groaned, covered her face, but then spread her fingers to glare at him. “There weren’t any other men.”

      He heard the words but they didn’t make sense. “Excuse me?”

      “Jesus, Quinton. Hello!” Her palms slapped the booth. “Catch on, will you? There are no past lovers. No bad experiences and no good experiences. None. Nada. I’m a…” Her voice dropped like a stone off a cliff. Another groan, and she went back to hiding behind her hands.

      Shock had a stranglehold on his throat. “You’re a…” He had as difficult a time saying it as she had. Finally he rasped, “Virgin?”

      Her bravado burst to life right before him. Her head snapped up; her lip curled. “Yeah, so?” She actually jutted her chin toward him in defiance. “Don’t say it like it’s a dirty word.”

      Quinton stared back. A virgin? With her mouthy comebacks and lack of discretion? Impossible.

      Yet…In an absurd way, it sort of made sense. “You’re not ribbing me?”

      “Horrible, huh?” Affecting an indolent attitude of unconcern, she slouched back. “I hear there’s an isolated island somewhere that houses other oddities like me.”

      Doing his best to reconcile what he knew with what he’d just learned, he shook his head and stared some more.

      She snapped her fingers in front of him. “Come alive, Quinton. Now’d be a good time for you to scramble out of here.”

      “Scramble out?” He wished for something more intelligent to say, but he couldn’t manage it. He kept thinking of initiating her, being her first. That image obliterated everything else.

      “Yeah. Virgins are scary things. What’s the stereotype? Oh yeah. Prudish and pining for marriage. You better get while the getting’s good.”

      She was making verbal mincemeat out of him, and he was letting her. He gathered his wits. “No one would ever call you prudish, and I assume if you wanted to be married, you would be.”

      The smugness of her grin raked along his nerves. “Haven’t you made enough assumptions to last a lifetime?”

      A coffeepot-wielding waitress saved him from having to answer that. She apologized for the delay, and Quinton pulled himself together enough to accept the coffee and quickly peruse the menu.

      Without looking at him, Ashley did the same. They both agreed on the “special” of ham, eggs, hash browns and toast. By the time the waitress departed with their orders, Quinton had himself back in full command of his senses.

      Ashley still acted antagonistic, but now he didn’t mind. Things were starting to come together, at least