Two to Tangle. Leslie Kelly

to open up about her worries. Chloe found it easy to tell him about her desire for normalcy, and her concerns about her unconventional mother, whom she dearly loved, but who couldn’t really be counted on for anything.

      He once caressed a lock of her hair under the guise of pushing it off of her face, which had set her heart racing for several moments. He didn’t talk much about himself, seeming to really want to focus on her, as if his own life was completely boring and she the most fascinating person on earth. That was an unusual feeling for Chloe, who was well used to sitting in the background while her flamboyant mother soaked up all attention like a paper towel soaked up spilled milk. She even finally decided she was ready to handle a second rum punch.

      “You’ve got to be sick of hearing about my family, phobias, video collection, or the various lists of do’s and don’ts by which I run my life,” Chloe said.

      He shook his head. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of hearing anything you say.”

      This time Chloe was the one to break their stare first. Confusion washed over her. This wasn’t quite the way she’d envisioned the evening. She’d been all set to be mysterious. To play along with his “strangers in a bar” suggestion.

      But they’d gone well beyond playing sexy games. Well beyond seductive flirtation. She’d known she was attracted to him. She’d never expected to like him.

      “I want to know more about you now,” she finally said. “Do you really like to do dangerous things like skydiving?”

      He tilted his head to one side and lifted his hands up in helpless resignation. “Uh, yeah. I do.”

      “Yikes,” she murmured, unable to picture the smooth, polished store businessman doing anything so impulsive. Trent, his alter ego, however? Well, yes, she could picture that.

      “I don’t really skydive very much anymore,” he admitted. “No time, no money. I do still like to hang glide whenever I visit my folks out west. You really should try it, it could help you get over this problem you have with heights.”

      “If I’m more than ten feet off the ground, I’d better have a floor or a fully operational Boeing 747 underneath me,” she countered. “Hang gliding, ha! It should be called strapping paper-framed wings on your back and pretending you’re not attempting suicide.”

      He let out another laugh, and Chloe noticed, not for the first time, that every pair of female eyes in the place turned to look at him. Approvingly. Hungrily.

      She reached across the table and touched his hand, sending a not-so-subtle message—he’s mine—to the overhormonal bar bimbettes in the room.

      He immediately responded by taking her fingers and entwining them with his own, sending shards of heat rushing up her arm. Chloe stared at their hands, marveling again at the darkness and strength of his against her own pale, soft skin. When she finally lifted her gaze to his face, she found him studying her, a half smile on his seductive lips.

      “You ready to get out of here?” he asked softly, leaning close and lowering his voice to a more intimate level.

      Chloe waited for the length of two heartbeats but felt like two hours for him to continue. And go where?

      “The storm’s over. We could go for a walk on the beach.”

      Chloe released the breath she’d been holding. “Sounds lovely.” She meant it—a walk on the beach did sound perfect. But she still somehow felt a stab of disappointment. She told herself not to be an idiot. Even if he had issued a much more suggestive invitation, as she’d half feared—okay, half hoped—she wouldn’t have taken him up on it. Absolutely not. Uh-uh, no way, never gonna happen.

      Well, probably never gonna happen.

      Remembering the quick stop she’d made in the hotel store before dinner, and thinking of the condom right now burning a hole in her small black purse, Chloe acknowledged the truth.

      Okay. Maybe gonna happen.

      3

      TRENT HID A SMILE AS A variety of expressions crossed his lovely companion’s face when he suggested a walk on the beach. He knew what she was thinking—exactly the same thing he was thinking. We’re strangers. This is too soon. What is happening here and why does it feel so right?

      Though he sensed he could stand up and lead her out of the crowded bar without another word, he didn’t want to push her. “Your choice. We can stay here if you like.”

      “Hmm,” she said, tapping the tip of her index finger on her cheek in obviously feigned indecision. “Stay here in a hot, loud, crowded bar with a bunch of other women who’ve been ogling you for an hour? Or go out onto a romantic, moonlit beach for a refreshing, private walk. Decisions, decisions. You don’t make it easy on a girl.”

      He shrugged. “The story of my life. Making the tough choices.” He leaned closer. “Besides, I haven’t noticed any other women. I have noticed the three muscle-bound college boys at the bar who keep turning around to stare at your legs each time you shift in your seat.”

      Her eyes widened. She immediately turned to see. “You’re sure they were looking at me? I mean, there are a lot of women in here who aren’t sitting with other men.”

      “None of whom has legs like yours.”

      “Oh wait, I’ve got it,” she said, ignoring his compliment. “You’re the one they’re interested in. They’re gay. That’d explain why they haven’t hooked up with one of these on-the-prowl females.”

      He chuckled. “Why is it so hard for you to believe you’re on the mind of every single male in this room?”

      An adorably disconcerted blush spread across her cheeks. She really didn’t realize her own appeal. She had no idea how amazing she was. How her soft laughter could seduce a man. The way the brightness in her eyes brought energy to a lifeless room. The way every male with even a drop of testosterone in his blood saw those legs of hers and imagined them wrapped around him. Including him. Trent gulped down the last of his water.

      She finally answered his question. “Maybe because I’m used to being the responsible, pretty-in-a-quiet-way, funny one who doesn’t usually incite lustful males to riot in the streets—or in the bars.” She smiled, glancing around. “You’re sure it was me they were interested in?”

      “Oh, I’m sure. Did you not notice the staring contest I got into with the one in the Florida Gators shirt a half hour ago?”

      Deadpan, she asked, “Oh, you’re an FSU Seminoles fan?”

      He smiled. “No, NFL all the way—I’m not much into college sports. But I couldn’t let that guy get away with drooling all over you like that. I guess I’m just one of those caveman guys who feels compelled to mark his territory.”

      She raised a brow. “Your territory?”

      “I didn’t mean that in the primal sense.”

      “Thank goodness. I think I’ve heard about how some male animals mark their territory in the jungle. We haven’t even kissed yet, so I think it’s a little early to start talking about that kinky stuff.”

      Instantly knowing what she meant, he threw back his head and laughed. The jocks at the bar turned to look. She’s gorgeous, she’s bright, and she’s funny as hell. Tough luck, boys.

      “So you ready to get out of here?”

      She stood. “More than ready.”

      As he took her arm and led her out of the bar, Trent wondered what good deed he’d done recently to account for his incredible fortune. This woman, this stranger, was a dream come true. Not only funny, charming and self-deprecating, she was also beautiful and earthy. Honest and completely unpretentious. And sexy enough to make him shake in anticipation.

      Claudia was his fantasy woman come to life.

      “You