Murphy's Law. Lori Foster

contemplation he decided to believe her. The last thing he wanted was another contender in the picture, muddying things up. “So you planned to go to the wedding alone?”

      “Unheard of, I know, but that’s the way I roll. I’m the solo queen.”

      “I’m glad I don’t have competition.”

      “Yeah, well, I could have a date if I wanted one.”

      The blustering of her pride had him smiling again. “That I don’t doubt for a single second. After all, I just offered, right?” Ashley might be deliberately abrasive, but that didn’t conceal her innate sensuality. It was a little earthy. Maybe even gritty. But it was there. Any man with eyes would see it. “So why don’t you?”

      She threw up her hands. “You really should pay attention. Like I said, I’m busy. Why should I waste my time on a guy who’d probably only get under my skin, then walk away?”

      Interesting revelation. He pointed out the obvious. “I’m not walking away.”

      “Not yet.” And though she tried to hide it, he glimpsed her vulnerability again. “But that’s because you haven’t gotten what you want, yet.”

      “Sex?”

      “Bingo.” And then, “Don’t try to deny it.”

      The way she challenged him, her chin raised, her eyes narrowed, was both amusing and endearing. “We’ve already established that I want to make love to you. I’m a man. You’re a very attractive woman.”

      “You’re shoveling it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

      “You don’t think you’re attractive?” This had to qualify as one of the strangest conversations he’d ever had.

      Again she rolled her eyes. “Why are we even talking about this?” She caught him by the collar. “My looks have nothing to do with it. It’s because I’m not falling at your feet that you think you’re interested.”

      “Ah, so that’s what it is.”

      “Yeah. I figure a guy with your face, bod, and money probably has women chasing him all the time.”

      Deadpan, he said, “It can be so bothersome.”

      “You’re used to having your pick of the babes. But here I am, a small-town Podunk, giving you the old heave-ho.”

      “I’m confident I can change your mind on that.” Most of what she said now sounded like bluster, as if she felt she had to give lip service to her refusal before giving in.

      “If I slept with you,” she insisted, “you’d be over me like that.” A snap of her fingers punctuated her statement.

      As seriously as he could, Quinton suggested, “Let’s test this theory.” Her cheek was soft beneath the brush of his fingertips. “Make love with me today, right now, and I’ll prove to you that I won’t lose interest. I’ll still escort you to the wedding.”

      Her lips twitched. “You want me to do the horizontal mambo here in the basement? Up against the lockers?”

      “You have no idea how much.” Gently he cupped her chin—and tried to win her over. “But Ashley, if you want to wait, I’ll wait. I’m happy to spend time getting to know you better. You can trust me.”

      Her palms flattened on his chest, holding him at bay. “It’s not about trust. It’s about me having a limited amount of time right now.”

      “You can’t tell me you never date.”

      “Wanna bet?”

      “But…” She looked to be in her midtwenties. Maybe five or six years younger than he was, which made her far too young to sit home alone knitting or watching old black-and-white movies.

      Ashley was the type of woman who exuded energy and determination. She would never be content with idle time alone.

      Giving up, Quinton asked, “Why?”

      “Men aren’t on my list of priorities right now.” With a shrug, she added, “Maybe after I get my degree and net a good job and can save up and get my own house—”

      “So in, say, ten years, I should ask again?”

      “Yeah.” Her grin left a dimple in her cheek. “Maybe by then I can spare you a few hours. But right now I don’t want any distractions from the big goal. And you, Quinton Murphy”—she patted the center of his chest—“would be a big distraction.”

      Quinton shook his head. The woman possessed a special knack for pushing him away while at the same time enflaming him. She spelled out her interest but claimed it didn’t matter.

      Her refreshing honesty frustrated the hell out of him. “So let’s don’t date.” Who needed dinners out or movies or dancing? He’d gladly bypass it all. “We’ll attend the wedding together and then see how it goes.”

      That suggestion made her laugh. “After that kiss, we both know exactly how it’d go.” Her smile slipped. “Even though I come across as a sex-starved nympho, I’m not really that easy.”

      “Trust me, easy is not a word I’d use to describe you.”

      “It’s just that you make me…”

      “Hot?”

      “More like scorching.”

      Somehow Quinton managed not to groan. “The feeling is mutual. So where’s the problem?”

      “You’re the problem.” She tweaked his chin. “I suspect you’d be addictive, and all my well-laid plans would go down the toilet.” And with that she turned her back on him and walked away.

      Again.

      Incredible.

      He’d need some careful maneuvering to win her over to his way of thinking. For whatever reason, Ashley had sworn off men, as if they had no place at all in her life. He’d have to give her good reason to accept him. “I’d like to offer a compromise.”

      Still walking, she clipped a CD player to the waistband of her jeans and connected a pair of soft headphones to it. “This ought to be good.”

      He caught up to her. “I’ll protect you from yourself.”

      That stopped her in her tracks. “Come again?”

      Pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel, Quinton said, “If you say you don’t want intimacy with me, I’ll ensure it.”

      “Uh-huh.” She pursed her lips, considered him, then raised a brow. “And how will you do that?”

      “My willpower is stronger than yours. I’ll save you from yourself.” He took a tiny step closer—and her attention moved to his mouth. Voice lowering, he whispered, “I’ll still kiss you, and I’ll still touch you.”

      Her eyes darkened. “Your plan is doomed to fail.”

      “But I won’t let it go any further than that.” He leaned a little closer to whisper, “Even if you beg.”

      Warm color shot into her cheeks. “Right. Dream on, big boy.”

      “Oh, I do. Dream. About you. But regardless, I won’t let things go too far. You have my word that I’ll accompany you to the wedding and return you safely home. Nothing more.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

      She took a long time considering his proposition. A dozen emotions flashed over her face, but skepticism seemed most prevalent. And suspicion. She didn’t yet trust in his integrity, but she would. He’d see to it.

      And maybe, just maybe, she’d end up in the same desperate state of arousal that he was in.

      Finally she nodded. “All right. Just to watch you squirm…” She took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Deal.”