The Playboy Meets His Match. Sara Orwig

Jason’s expression slightly. “I don’t think you should limit that to men,” he said in a cynical tone that surprised her.

      “I can’t believe any woman ever hurt you. I’ll bet you draw them like flies to honey.”

      The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Whatever makes you think that?” he asked with great innocence.

      “Stop fishing for compliments! You know you’re a good-looking and sexy stud.”

      “Son-of-a-gun, darlin’,” he drawled. “You will turn my head. So you think I’m a sexy stud?” The words rolled out like soft velvet sliding across her skin, and Meredith wished she hadn’t said anything. When would she learn just to keep quiet? But then, how could she sit in silence when he was looking at her with an eagle-eyed intentness that made her nervous and made her want to chatter?

      “Why don’t we go out to dinner tomorrow night? I can drive to Dallas,” he said.

      “Thank you, but I have other plans. And I’m not leaving Royal.”

      “You have friends here in Royal?”

      “No, I don’t know anyone except Dorian, and now you. I’m staying right here in Royal. You can’t make me leave town.”

      “You plan to slash Dorian’s tires again?”

      “No, I won’t,” she said, annoyed with him and trying to ignore the little nagging voice inside that wanted to accept his offer of a dinner date. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway, but I don’t have other plans. I just don’t care to go to dinner.”

      He grinned, a full-fledged, heart-stopping grin with perfect white teeth, and she tried to catch her breath and not stare. With an effort she shifted her gaze to her fingers laced together in her lap. She had just turned down a date with that grin. Just sitting there doing nothing, the man was handsome, but when he smiled, he was to-die-for gorgeous. His smile could melt the coldest heart. She just knew it had better not melt hers. And she knew he had an ulterior motive in asking her to dinner because he was trying every which way to learn her plans about Dorian and to keep her away from him.

      “I’m sure you’re unaccustomed to any female turning down an offer of a date with you, but I’m not interested.”

      “Well, in that case, we’ll sit right here at my house. You can go with me tomorrow to pick out a computer and we’ll have dinner at home and you can help me set up a new computer—”

      “You’re kidnapping me!”

      “No, I’m not. You’re free to go. You want to leave, I’ll take you straight to the sheriff. After all, I caught you in a criminal act.”

      She glared at him. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

      “I wouldn’t want to go to jail, either. My house is far more comfortable, and I’m better company that any of those deputies and you can have something to eat or drink whenever you want.” He gave her a speculative look. “You know, men have been breaking women’s hearts and vice-versa since the beginning of time. Your sister got jilted by a low-down lying rascal—as you would say—but that happens. When it does, you pick up and go on with life.”

      She bristled. “How easy that is for you to say! You’re a playboy and I’m sure you’re incredibly experienced at breaking hearts. I’ll bet you’ve left a path strewn with them back to when you were just out of elementary school.”

      “Grade school? I don’t think so!” he said and rewarded her with another fabulous grin.

      “And I’ll bet no female has ever broken your heart. So don’t even talk to me about how unimportant a broken heart is!”

      He tilted his head. “Another swift punch—somewhat undeserved, I think. I’ve always made it clear that I’m not a marrying man. I’m not into commitment and I always state that up front. I have never been engaged to anyone and never hinted at engagement. So don’t lump me in with broken promises of engagement. There’s a difference. Anyone who dates me knows exactly how I feel about marriage. I’m very open about it. Most of the women I date feel just the way I do.”

      “Why aren’t you a marrying man, if I may ask?”

      Again, she caught that brief shuttered look and a muscle working in his jaw. He had some touchy point, something that had happened to him that had soured him on marriage.

      “My brothers have had disastrous marriages that have torn apart their lives and hurt their children. I don’t ever want to go through that.”

      She suspected there was more to the story than he was telling her, but they were little more than strangers and she could understand why he would be reluctant to tell her about himself. As he talked, he unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. She didn’t think he was aware of what he was doing, but she was certainly aware of the slight glimpse of a tanned, well-sculpted chest.

      “Those sweats may be rather warm for this time of year. Want something more comfortable?”

      “That would be nice,” she said and he stood, reaching down to take her wrist.

      “You don’t have to hold me.”

      “Only your wrist. I can keep up with you better this way,” he answered lightly, but it made her stand closer to him than was comfortable. He had to be a couple of inches over six feet tall. The top of her head reached his shoulder and she felt as if tiny currents of electricity were jabbing her when she was close to him. The prickly awareness put her on edge because it was so uncustomary for her. What was it about him that caused the sparks? Surely not just his movie-star looks. She shouldn’t be susceptible to bedroom eyes and a high-wattage grin. Something about him had her heart skipping way too fast and she could just imagine the broken hearts he had in his past.

      They entered a large hallway decorated with Western art and he directed her back across the kitchen to another hallway. “The east wing of the house has spare bedrooms, my office and a workout room. We don’t use these bedrooms unless everyone is home.”

      “Who is everyone?”

      “My brothers and their families. They’ve remarried and have kids. We spend a lot of time here,” he said switching on lights and she entered another large, comfortable room with leather-upholstered furniture. A pool table was in the center of the room with a Ping-Pong table in a far corner and an immense stone fireplace along one wall. A wide-screen television stood at one end and one wall was lined with shelves filled with books. Two large gun racks were against another wall with an antique sword mounted over the fireplace.

      “I can see why. You have everything you need here at home.”

      “Not quite,” he drawled, and she knew he was referring to a woman companion.

      “Don’t you get lonesome here?” The moment she asked, she knew it was a ridiculous question, and she answered before he could. “I know you don’t get lonesome anywhere. I’m sure I’m keeping you from some woman’s company tonight, and I’ll bet she’s quite unhappy about it.”

      “No, I told you. There’s no one in my life right now.”

      “If there’s not, she must be only a day away. I can’t imagine you going ten minutes without a woman close at hand.”

      “Tonight I’ve got you, darlin’,” he drawled lightly, and she knew he was teasing her.

      “And I know full well you didn’t want me.”

      “I didn’t say that. I’m just assigned to keep you out of trouble.”

      “To keep me away from Dorian is the truth. You can’t watch me forever.”

      “Nope, I surely can’t, but for tonight I can do my assignment.”

      She was acutely aware of his fingers still circling her wrist. Moving close at her side, he led her to another large room where he switched on a light. “Here’s