the words the moment they left his mouth as the spark in her eyes dulled and her cheeks bloomed red. “However, I have been on a ton of first dates and, as you can see, have lived to tell the tales. I promise this won’t hurt. You might even find you like me.”
“I already like you, Chris.”
“You like my public persona. That guy isn’t all I am.”
Now why had he said that? It didn’t matter. She could like whoever she wanted—Dr. Desire, Chris Faulkner, the waiter. After this night it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. No matter how appealing and beautiful she was, he wasn’t getting involved. End of story.
“I’d like to think I’m not that shallow. I realize your job isn’t all there is to know about you. But I’ve learned a lot, more than you probably think, by listening to the advice you give.”
“Like what?”
“I know that you have a wickedly sarcastic sense of humor.”
Chris rocked back into his chair, dropping the menu he hadn’t really been looking at anyway.
“Usually those comments are at the expense of someone’s pride, and afterward I feel horrible.”
“See, I knew it. Under that tough, man’s-man persona there’s a softy. You’re a nice guy.”
“No. A nice guy wouldn’t say the stuff in the first place. Or wouldn’t continue saying it. I said I feel guilty, but only for a second.”
“Well, that’s because the person on the other end usually needs some sense knocked into them.”
Maybe she did understand him. He’d often thought he’d carefully compartmentalized his true persona from the polished, charming Dr. Desire, the voice and personality that garnered ratings and multiyear contracts. Maybe not.
“That’s one reason I called the show. Not because you were soft and nice. But because you’re hard and tough and usually right. I trust you to tell me what I need to hear.”
“What do you need to hear?” His voice dipped lower than he’d intended. He hoped she hadn’t noticed. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.
She waved her hands between them. “This is not supposed to be a pop psych session. Just dinner.”
She was right. He’d walked into the restaurant intent on proving to Karyn she could enjoy a nice dinner out with a man, a stranger, without having to deal with the complicated issues. He’d specifically set out not to turn on Dr. Desire. He wanted to stay as far away as possible from that proposition she claimed had just slipped out. He didn’t want to give her another chance to mention what she needed from him, how he could help solve all her sexual problems.
He couldn’t solve anything. At the moment, however, his libido was sorely tempted to try.
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