“Sorry,” he said stiffly. “That got out of hand.”
“It’s OK. Not your fault.” She looked down at herself. “I thought it was better to have this conversation in street clothes,” she said. “To see if the fantasy melted away for you without the props. Better for both of us to know right now.”
He looked her up and down. Blood roared in his ears. “That’s not happening.”
Her sig pulsed, excited pinks and reds. “So?”
“I promised not to touch you, and I broke that promise. With your help.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“If you stay here, I’ll break it again. Let me put that right out in the open.”
Her eyes were pools of shadow, but with his infrared he saw the pain and longing in them. “I . . . I can’t do this,” she murmured.
“Why? Are you married? Involved with someone?”
“No.” Her answer came without hesitation.
“Then what’s the problem?”
She shook her head, after a long pause. “That’s nobody’s business.”
“True,” he said. “And yet you’re still here.”
Her chin went up. “Your sister mentioned that you were celebrating your engagement. Was the woman who sat next to you today your fiancée?”
“Not an issue,” he said.
“It is for me.” Her voice had an edge.
“OK. We can call it even.” He took Simone’s ring out of his desk and displayed it. “I was engaged. Now I’m not. I wouldn’t have requested a private dance otherwise.”
She looked shocked. “Wait. Did you break it off because of my—because we—”
“No. Not at all.” He tossed the ring back into the drawer. “I wasn’t all that engaged to begin with. I know that now, thanks to you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m a free man. Have dinner with me,” he found himself saying. “Anywhere. Any kind of food you feel like. Or we can just have a drink. Anything is fine. Your call.”
“I can’t do that.” She sounded miserable.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then you’re just jerking me around,” he said. “Make up your mind. Have dinner with me or walk out the door.”
“Well, aren’t you the gentleman. Go fuck yourself.” Her voice was cool.
“Is that a no?” He didn’t miss the brilliant flash of annoyance in her green eyes. Yes, dancing girl. I can read you. And this is a test of whether you can read me.
He couldn’t tell if she got it. There was a tense pause. He waited her out.
“I have a different suggestion,” she said.
“Let’s hear it.”
Her words came out in a nervous rush. “I don’t do bars or restaurants and I don’t want to go to any public spaces.”
“OK.”
“But if you want, I’ll go back to your place and, ah, spend the night with you. On the following condition.”
He braced himself for who the fuck knew what. “Yeah? Let’s have it.”
“No questions,” she said.
He was taken aback. “Not one? Not even your name?”
“Especially not that. And when I leave, do not try to contact me again.”
“Ah. A one-nighter.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”
“No questions at all?” he asked. “Favorite color? Favorite app? Favorite yoga pants?”
“Don’t push me,” she said. “That’s the only way this could work for me.”
Amazing. The ultimate horndog fantasy. No-strings sex. No consequences. And he actually felt ambivalent about it. “So what will we talk about?”
“Anything you want,” she said. “Except for me.”
He gave her an assessing look. “Could I persuade you to change your mind?”
She shook her head. “We could just, you know. Not talk.”
His heartrate surged. Hers, too. He was getting a baseline vibe. Hot pink intensifying to an erotic shimmer of scorching red. Undoubtedly what her sig looked like when she was urgently fantasizing about sex. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You don’t want me to take you out for dinner. Or let me get to know the real you.”
“Nope. Can’t do that.”
He studied her with narrowed eyes. “You want me to take you home and fuck you up against a wall in the dark with my mouth shut.”
She recoiled, but her sig didn’t. The colors flared and deepened. “No,” she said.
“OK,” he said slowly. “We’re making progress. I didn’t think you were the no-name, one-timer type.”
“I’m not,” she admitted. “But we do this my way or not at all.”
“Can I agree without saying that I understand? Because I don’t.”
She waved that away. “Forget it. This is a bad idea. I’m sorry I even suggested it. Go home. Heave a sigh of relief and raise a glass of wine to your narrow escape.”
“Why? Are you on a Wanted poster? Armed and dangerous?”
“No questions,” she said.
He snapped his fingers. “Right. Slipped my mind.”
She glared at him, and just waited.
“So . . . are we on?” he asked.