“Three.”
Three men he’d watched die. Slowly, painfully. One by one, they’d given in to the torture, to the madness.
He set down his glass. “They had families. Some had kids. They talked about them, how they missed them, how they wanted to see them again. They had hope. They believed. They told me it made them strong, but they were wrong. Having something to live for meant they had something to lose. Those bastards hurt them more because of it. I walked away because living and dying were the same to me.”
He’d learned his lesson then. It was safer to just be his own man. To not care. Having nothing left to lose had saved his life.
“Love is death?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
“I want to explain that you’re wrong, but you have no reason to believe me. The mental and emotional scars of your imprisonment would be significant. Lessons learned in traumatic situations stay with us always.” She gave him a shaky smile. “I was trapped in a closet with a spider when I was five. It was only for a few minutes, but I still remember screaming.”
She angled her chair to him. “Am I correct in assuming that you’re not interested in any kind of emotional commitment? That even though you enjoy my company and find the sex very pleasurable, you don’t want to form an attachment?”
Not exactly how he would have phrased it, but, “Yes.”
“I want to belong,” she told him. “I want to fall in love. I understand much of the feeling is chemical, but I still want to know what it’s like. Eventually I want to get married and have children. I want to be part of a family. I want roots. Nothing you’re interested in.”
“No.”
“Then spending time with you doesn’t help me achieve my goal.”
Stark words, he thought, surprised at the kick in the gut he felt. But she knew what she wanted, and he had no right to keep her from it.
“I told you before, I’m not the forever guy.”
She nodded. “Even so, I find myself reluctant to stop seeing you. I wonder if I’m attracted to the traditional bad-boy elements of your personality. Or it could be our sexual compatibility. I do like thinking about us making love and having orgasms together.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what I should do.”
His suggestion, mostly screaming from his suddenly hard dick, was that they practice a few of those orgasms right here, right now. Dinner and her life goals be damned. But he liked Felicia nearly as much as he wanted her, and there was no way he was going to screw up everything because he needed to get laid.
“You should walk away,” he told her, the words physically painful to speak.
“A sensible solution.” She stared at him. “I don’t want to be sensible. Why is that?”
“You’re a woman?”
She laughed. “I believe my ability to reason is far greater than yours, but the sexist comment is charming.” She nodded. “I need to consider this. Do you mind if I think about what I want and then get back to you?”
She was like no one else he’d ever met. Damned if that didn’t make him want her more. “Take your time.”
“And it’s all right if we finish dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Would you like to talk about sports? I have a working knowledge of baseball and can discuss team rankings along with player statistics.”
He started to laugh, then leaned close and kissed her. She stared at him.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I couldn’t help myself.”
She smiled. “What else can’t you help doing?”
“No way, young lady. You have to make your decision first. No-strings sex and practice dating, knowing it will never last, or walking away and waiting for Mr. Right.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s the sensible course.” Her eyes widened. “This is what women mean when they talk about Mr. Right Now. They’re attracted to a man like you.”
“Not exactly,” he murmured. “But close enough.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“THIS COULD BE higher,” Ford yelled from the top of the rope hanging from the base of a thick tree branch a good twenty feet off the ground.
“It could,” Consuelo shouted back to him. “We could also dig a moat and float a few alligators. How does that sound?”
“Sweet!”
Gideon shook his head. One day Ford and Angel were going to kill each other with their brainless competition. But as they’d been trying to best each other for years, he knew he wasn’t going to change anybody’s mind. As it was, he’d been brought in to offer suggestions for ways to make the obstacle course more challenging for the professionals while keeping it doable for “normal people.” He wasn’t sure why anyone thought he would know more than either Ford, Angel or Consuelo, but, if nothing else, he would enjoy spending a morning in the forest.
Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)
Susan Mallery's books
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- Just One Kiss
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