Murphy's Law. Lori Foster

forgot his lie about work and said, “I’ve only waited twice, damn it.”

      “—and you definitely have to stop kissing me.”

      Quinton caught her shoulders and held her back far enough to see her face. A pulse thrummed wildly in her throat. Her swollen and damp lips were open to accommodate her uneven breaths. Heat flushed her cheeks and lust shone in her big dark eyes.

      She felt everything he felt.

      Determined to understand her, he demanded quietly, “Tell me why.”

      Her long hair trailed over his wrists as she shook her head. “We both know you were waiting for me tonight because, for whatever reason, you’ve decided you want to take a turn in the sack with me.”

      “Take a…” The way she put things forever boggled his mind. He gently shook her shoulders. “I want to make love to you. We’d both enjoy it.” Hell, he’d love it. “But I also like you.” He was close to being obsessed with her.

      “You barely know me.” With shaking fingers she tucked her hair behind her ears, straightened her T-shirt, and moved back to put space between them.

      His hands fell to his sides. “True enough. I don’t know you as I want to.” He managed a strained smile. “But I’m trying to correct that.”

      “Why bother? Our schedules conflict. We don’t work the same hours.”

      “I’ll manage.” Given how badly he wanted her, he didn’t sleep much anyway.

      “We don’t even work for the same company.”

      “But we do work in the same building.” They’d met only by chance when he’d had to stop by his office late and she’d been leaving work early. Among other things, he was CEO of a consulting firm. Ashley cleaned the office building where he leased space. “Though it’s a good thing we don’t officially work together, given most company policies would forbid coworker dating.”

      Still refusing him, she shook her head. “We’re not dating. It’d be a waste of time.”

      Did she deliberately insult him?

      He scowled, but she shook her head and said, “I mean because we have nothing in common.”

      He touched her mouth with one fingertip. “Oh, I think we have a few things in common.” He looked into her eyes and his lust ratcheted up to the max again. He wanted to devour her.

      “Yeah, okay.” She drew a quick breath. “It’s a first for me, but I’ll admit we’ve got the whole sexual chemistry thing going.”

      “Thank you,” he said with dry humor.

      “But,” she continued, once again on the move, “I’ve got too much on my plate to be messing around with you right now.”

      Messing around with him? She made him sound like an inconvenience. Easily keeping pace with her on her path through the building to the locker room, Quinton asked, “So what’s on your plate? Anything I can help with?”

      “Nope.” She kept her head down and her gait long.

      She said that too fast, and with too much conviction. The take-charge part of his personality didn’t like it. “I’m not without means, you know.”

      She stopped long enough to roll her eyes at him. “Yeah, I know. You have ‘means’ coming out the ying-yang. Thanks but no thanks.”

      On their first meeting, which also accounted for his first rejected invitation to her, he’d learned that Ashley had a spirited way of putting things. He liked it. As he said, he liked her.

      He already knew that she attended college classes in addition to working the third-shift job. Busy, but not so busy that she couldn’t fit in a date with him.

      Unless something, or someone else, was keeping her away.

      From two feet behind her, he asked, “Do you find me unattractive?”

      “Oh please.” She laughed without looking back at him. “As if.”

      Well…That was nice. At least he knew his appearance didn’t repel. “So is it that you dislike men with ‘means coming out the ying-yang’?”

      “Your means don’t matter to me one way or the other.” Now she sounded irritated. “I’m sure you work hard for what you have.”

      “I do.” But he’d also been born into money, not that he intended to say so with her being so prickly about it. “And now you have me working hard to figure you out.”

      “Might as well stop before you strain something.” Finally they reached the locker she used to stow away her purse.

      Again, Quinton tipped up her chin. “Tell me what’s troubling you.” Then he’d resolve it and get her focused on him instead of other things.

      She crossed her arms over her chest, cocked out one hip, and eyed him up and down. “All right, fine. First and foremost on my mind is the wedding.”

      The wedding? Denial lumped in his guts. But a quick glance at her finger showed no engagement ring. He scowled at her for nearly stopping his heart.

      “Yeah, my sentiments exactly.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you should try it wearing pink taffeta.” She turned, opened the padlock with deft movements, swung open the squeaky metal door, and shoved her purse onto the top shelf inside the locker. “Let me tell you, humiliation takes on new meaning.” She slammed the locker shut with a little more force than necessary.

      “Hold up.” Quinton put a hand to her shoulder and turned her to face him. “You’re not getting married?”

      “No way.” And with annoyance, “Where’d you get a dumb idea like that?”

      Relief sank into him. “So who’s the lucky bride?”

      “My best friend.”

      “And she’s getting married when?”

      Her head dropped back against the locker with a clatter. “In a couple of days. And I’ve got all this crap to remember—”

      “Crap?”

      “Yeah, you know. Like how to do that idiotic walk on the rice paper, and to move her train out from behind her when she turns to go back down the aisle.” She closed her eyes and huffed. “And to not say crap in front of the minister.”

      “Such a predicament,” he teased.

      “Yeah, well, for me it is.” She screwed up her face. “I have a tendency to speak first and think later.”

      Without really considering all the repercussions, Quinton said, “This is where I can come in handy.” Then he felt like cursing. He detested weddings almost as much as funerals. Still, he had the entire weekend free and if it’d get him that much closer to her…“As your escort, I’ll assist you in minding your manners.”

      Ashley’s eyes snapped open again. “Ho, no.” She shook her head. “I’ll pass, thank-you-very-much.”

      “Why?” He sidled closer, getting used to the idea. “Come on, Ashley. You know you don’t want to do this alone. I’ll make excellent backup.”

      “What makes you think I don’t already have a date?”

      Something cold, mean, and dark settled into his stomach. His humor fled in the face of jealousy. “Do you?”

      She scoffed at his stern expression. “Don’t go all caveman on me. My personal business is no concern of yours.”

      True—but at that moment it didn’t seem to matter. “If you’re dating someone else, why did you kiss me?”

      “You kissed me.”

      “And you kissed me back.”

      “Let’s