That argument alone persuaded me to put an end to the standoff. It was self-sabotaging, I knew, but my heart and my mind threatened to form a conspiracy against me by sending me off to dangerous, Cowboy-infested waters. And that wasn’t a depth I was willing to go.
I shied away farther, my back digging into the bookshelf, as I tried to put more distance between us. “I’m not a trophy, nor do I aspire to become a notch on someone’s belt. I’m not the kind of girl who rolls out of a man’s bed after one meaningless night of sleeping together.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t know about meaningless, sweetheart, but the sleeping part is not usually the way I do things.”
I rolled my eyes. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not looking for a fling.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, settling his hands on the bookcase behind me, effectively caging me in. His masculine frame towered over me, forcing me to look up to see his eyes. “Because it’d be hot as hell watching you come unwound.”
He brought one hand around and removed the glasses from my face, then reached up with the other and let my red hair fall out of my clip.
Again? Seriously?
It was nerve-wracking the way his gaze roamed aimlessly over my face and body. As if he were imagining me naked in his arms, writhing beneath him while he thrust into me. And that thought alone horrified me as much as it delighted me. God, help me.
I didn’t stamp my foot, but I wanted to. “Are you done, yet?”
“Nope. Not even close. I want to know the real reason why you won’t go out with me.”
“Okay, fine.” I crossed my arms to show my exasperation, but mostly to hide my body’s response to his proximity. “You’re someone who appreciates bluntness, right? You like to call a spade a spade?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He was still smiling.
“The reason I won’t go out with you is simple.” I heaved out a breath and pushed the loose hair behind my ear, knowing I was about to wipe that smug smile off his stupid perfect face. “You’re a king on a throne, and your sordid reputation with women is well-known throughout the land.”
“What?” His brows lowered over his eyes and his smile dissipated. “That’s your reason for not—”
“I’m not finished,” I stated firmly, tapping my foot on the tiled floor. “Like I told you the other night, we’re not a good match. Way too different, in fact. I’m predictable and dull and, without a doubt, you’d become easily bored with me.”
His eyes softened. “You’re not—”
“Not finished,” I chastised, placing my hands on my hips. “I’m perpetually behind everyone else in most things, including fashion, and I’m a compulsive neat freak. I’m also logical and conservative.”
“You probably recycle,” he said with a smirk.
“Actually, I do. But then again, so do you.” When he looked at me funny, I continued. “You recycle women. Use them up and toss them aside, leaving them for someone else while you wait for a new one to come along and replenish your stash.”
“That’s not true. I—”
“I’m still not through,” I said, raising my hand to stop him. “Face it, Cowboy, we’re nothing alike. Therefore, I think us going on a date would be futile and one hundred percent counterproductive.” When he didn’t say anything right away, I asked, “Do you understand what I mean by that?”
He tipped his hat back, and I could see the indignation blazing in his eyes. “Being a southern redneck don’t make me stupid,” he drawled, clearly offended. I started to apologize, but he spoke up first. “Just one date.”
“I’m sorry, Cowboy, but I have no interest in having dinner with you…or anything else for that matter. I don’t want to be just another anonymous name on your list or another temporary playmate in your bed. For the last time, my answer is still no.” Then I closed my mouth and bit down on my tongue before I did something stupid. Like change my mind.
We stared at each other momentarily before his jaw tightened and he said, “You done?”