When Good Things Happen To Bad Boys. Lori Foster

tend to get emotionally involved in physical relationships.”

      “And naturally, you don’t.”

      “No. Never. If you don’t believe me, you could ask my brother, Booker, or my best friend, Cary. They both succumbed to marriage years ago, but I like variety—in women and in everything else.”

      “Bully for you. So what exactly is it you think to offer me?”

      “Advice.”

      She blinked. “Come again?”

      “I’d like to offer you some advice.”

      Her neck stiffened. Her shoulders went back—which drew his attention to her breasts, barely concealed by a cotton nightshirt with teddy bears decorating it. Christ, teddy bears?

      “Advice on…?”

      Pacing away from her and her girlish—and somehow super sexy—nightwear—Axel finally noticed his surroundings. He stumbled to a halt. A bed. Right there, within easy reach. “Uh…Why do you have a bed in the middle of the floor?”

      “It’s where I sleep.”

      Had she been curled up, warm and cozy, when he knocked? He gulped. He glanced at his watch. “You were already in bed?”

      With a shrug in her voice, she said, “Watching a movie.” She gave an evil grin. “About a woman who beats up men.”

      Axel looked around and frowned.

      “Yeah, I know, the place is small. The bed folds up to a loveseat, but since I never have company, I don’t bother with it very often.”

      So she always had a bed, right there, in the middle of her floor? He cleared his throat and tried to put that cozy-looking nest of blankets from his mind. Facing Libby, he clasped his hands behind his back and tried to appear impersonal. “You came to me today for birth control. I assume that means you intend to become sexually active.”

      “Wow. You are so perceptive.” Arms crossed and head tilted in a challenging way, she said, “So?”

      Damn. She didn’t even deny it. He struggled for the right words. How in hell did fathers handle this stupid talk? It was harder than he’d ever suspected. “Since, as you claimed, I gave you your first orgasm, I feel responsible.”

      Red-hot color flooded her face. “Good grief, you’re ballsy!”

      “I know.” He shrugged, not really repentant since it was true. “But you did tell me it was your first—”

      “I told you that when I thought things were going to happen between us. Since they’re not…They’re not, right?”

      Say no, say no… Axel rubbed the back of his neck and spouted his well-rehearsed speech. “Young virgins have a way of assimilating sex with love. Since, like I explained, I’m not in the market for anything serious, I don’t want to mislead you.”

      Disgust washed away her embarrassment. “Yeah, don’t mislead the poor dumb virginal child.” She turned away, heading for the door as if she thought he’d follow. “Rest assured, my private business is no business of yours. You owe me nothing. But in case you’ve forgotten, I already told you I wasn’t in the market for serious involvement either. I’ve got my life all planned out and some bozo with overcharged hormones doesn’t figure into things, even if he’s stupendous in the sack—which you sure as certain haven’t proved.”

      She kept challenging him, and damn it, he kept rising to the challenge, in more ways than one. He hoped like hell she wouldn’t notice his Jones pushing against the stiff fabric of his jeans.

      She went on, thankfully keeping her narrowed eyes on his face. “Between college and work and an uncle who wants me out of his life, I don’t have time for distractions, at least, not a distraction that takes more than a night or two.”

      She reached the door and put her hand on the doorknob, looking at him expectantly. Axel stared back. Oh no, he wasn’t about to leave. Not yet.

      “A night or two?” he questioned.

      “That’s right.” She shrugged. “I’m twenty-one. Since Mom died six years ago, I’ve spent every available minute working toward independence. You might see me as a naïve babe, but let me tell you, doc, there’s nothing naïve about a fifteen-year-old girl left homeless.”

      Fifteen. Damn. Overwhelming sympathy damn near choked him up. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to hug her and console her six years too late. “I am so sorry—”

      “Don’t you dare.” She raised an imperious hand. “The last thing I want from you is pity. I don’t need it. My uncle eventually took me in so I had a roof over my head and food to eat.”

      Eventually? What the hell did that mean? And she mentioned the basics, but had she been given love? Had she gotten all the things a young girl needed from her parents? Axel didn’t know, and looking at her set face didn’t tell him a damn thing.

      Regaining his attention, she said, “But understand something here, doc.”

      “Call me Axel.”

      She did a double take. “That’s your name?”

      He half grinned. “Afraid so.”

      She ignored that to continue on her tirade. “Right. So anyway, Axel, I worked my tush off and graduated high school when I was seventeen. Thanks to my GPA, I earned several grants and scholarships, but not enough to pay for a four-year program to get my BSN. Because my uncle wanted me to feel financially responsible for good grades, he insisted that I pay half of my remaining college expenses.”

      “You’re working your way through?”

      “In a way. I took a year off before starting college and took any job I could find. Other than what I paid my uncle for room and board—”

      “He charged you?” No way could Axel hide his incredulity. What type of abnormal relative was he anyway?

      She rolled her shoulder. “Sure he did. I was still living with him then. But other than what I had to give him, I saved every dime until I made enough to get started. Working part-time has slowed me down a bit, so I have one more year of nursing school before I graduate. But don’t think for a single second that I’m going to let you or anyone else get in my way.”

      She sounded equally proud of herself and defiant. And full of spirit. Axel stared at her in wonder, and burgeoning respect. “I had no idea.”

      “Yeah, well, you never bothered to ask. But somehow that doesn’t surprise me. You seem like the thick-headed sort to run wild with assumptions, especially where women are concerned.”

      She dished out more insults than any female he’d ever known. It wasn’t what he was used to. Ready to get some of his own back, he said, “I realize name-calling is a sure sign of adolescence, but do you think we could stick to the point?”

      Temper snapped her spine straight and brought her storming away from the door and back to him. She appeared so livid that Axel braced himself, thinking she might slug him. Instead she went nose to nose with him and snarled, “The point is that I might be young, doc, but I prefer that to being old and set in my ways.”

      “Damn it, call me Axel.” He scowled. “And I am not old.”

      “Forty is old.”

      “Forty! But I’m only—” He caught sight of the satisfaction twinkling in her eyes and knew she’d just gigged him on purpose. “Brat.” And to make sure she knew, he added, “I’m thirty-five as of a few months ago.”

      “Downright ancient.” She snickered. “You old people are so easy to provoke.”

      In soft warning, Axel said, “You’re just begging for it, aren’t you?”

      “No way, buster.” She crossed her