great. Don't worry about him. He got
jock itch at the gym and it's pissing him off." Kristin gestured
behind her. "We're besties, actually."
Rob's frown deepened.
She bent down to pet the dog, who had a
sparkly collar around its neck that read Chanel. It was silly, but
Kristin felt tingly that Rob had not only kept the name she'd given
the dog but given her a personalized collar with it, too.
She smiled brilliantly, scratching the dog
behind her ears. "How are you doing, Chanel? It looks like you've
been to the spa."
"I've never seen a dog like the groomer the
way this one did," Rob said. "She didn't want to leave."
"I like the spa too," she told the animal.
Then she stood. "Of course, I haven't been in forever. Is that
takeout in your hand?"
He looked down at the bag he was carrying.
"Yes."
She waited for him to elaborate, but when he
didn't she asked, "What kind?"
"Indian."
"I love Indian food." She beamed at him.
"Mind if I join you?"
The puppy barked once.
"Chanel thinks it's a good idea," she pointed
out with a sweet smile.
"What's your game?" he asked
suspiciously.
She froze, hearing her slowly desiccating
eggs scream to tread carefully. "What do you mean?"
"You obviously want something from me."
Your sperm, but she didn't think he'd react
well if she told him that now. So she just said, "I like you."
His jaw steeled. "I'm not an easy mark, so if
you're after money you picked the wrong guy."
The idea that she'd want money was so
ludicrous that she burst out laughing. Then she thought about it
more and doubled over.
"It's not that funny," she heard Rob say over
her laughter.
If he knew what was in her bank account—the
one in the states as well as the one she'd opened in the Grand
Caymans, just because it tickled her—he'd laugh too.
Or maybe not. Men were touchy about their
women out-earning them. Unless they were mooches, and she took care
not to attract the sort of man who'd try to take advantage of
her.
"Want to clue me in on the joke?" Rob asked,
with curiosity rather than the annoyance she'd have expected.
Wiping the tears of mirth, she shook her
head. "Not today. Or at least not until you feed me."
He sighed. "Come on."
She walked alongside him, hiccupping the
occasional last bit of laughter. "I haven't had that good a laugh
in a while."
"I'm glad I could help."
"Just to clarify, I was laughing at me, not
you."
"If you want me to believe that, you'll have
to deliver it more convincingly."
She grinned. "I'm an awful actress. I'm
pretty much an open book. I never learned feminine wiles because I
was surrounded by boys. My mom was no help, because she was a
firefighter."
"Your mom?"
She nodded. "We were a rough and tumble
household. I'm scrappy. Don't ever try to arm wrestle me. I don't
play fair."
"I could have told you that," he
muttered.
Chanel barked in agreement.
"I love this dog." She smiled at the pooch.
"I'm so happy you decided to adopt her."
"She's not so bad." He bent down and
scratched its ears.
Aw . Robert Cray pretended like he was
a cold-ass business guy but he was mush on the inside.
Then Kristin frowned. "What do you do
for a living, Rob?"
"I run a hedge fund."
Successfully, based on the way he dressed and
that he lived in Laurel Heights.
They walked down the block and turned right.
Another block, a left turn, and he nodded at a house. "It's this
one."
She stood outside and looked at the building.
It was a three-story Edwardian cottage, nicely maintained with a
small but lovely front yard. "It's so cute," she exclaimed as she
hurried to follow him to the porch.
He opened the door and motioned her
inside.
She strode in and looked around. "It's a
whole house."
"Yes." He looked at her like she was insane.
Bending, he unlatched Chanel's leash.
The dog calmly trotted down the hallway,
obviously knowing where she was going.
Kristin ducked into the first doorway. There
was a large living room, decorated in shades of brown. Expensively
decorated, but
jock itch at the gym and it's pissing him off." Kristin gestured
behind her. "We're besties, actually."
Rob's frown deepened.
She bent down to pet the dog, who had a
sparkly collar around its neck that read Chanel. It was silly, but
Kristin felt tingly that Rob had not only kept the name she'd given
the dog but given her a personalized collar with it, too.
She smiled brilliantly, scratching the dog
behind her ears. "How are you doing, Chanel? It looks like you've
been to the spa."
"I've never seen a dog like the groomer the
way this one did," Rob said. "She didn't want to leave."
"I like the spa too," she told the animal.
Then she stood. "Of course, I haven't been in forever. Is that
takeout in your hand?"
He looked down at the bag he was carrying.
"Yes."
She waited for him to elaborate, but when he
didn't she asked, "What kind?"
"Indian."
"I love Indian food." She beamed at him.
"Mind if I join you?"
The puppy barked once.
"Chanel thinks it's a good idea," she pointed
out with a sweet smile.
"What's your game?" he asked
suspiciously.
She froze, hearing her slowly desiccating
eggs scream to tread carefully. "What do you mean?"
"You obviously want something from me."
Your sperm, but she didn't think he'd react
well if she told him that now. So she just said, "I like you."
His jaw steeled. "I'm not an easy mark, so if
you're after money you picked the wrong guy."
The idea that she'd want money was so
ludicrous that she burst out laughing. Then she thought about it
more and doubled over.
"It's not that funny," she heard Rob say over
her laughter.
If he knew what was in her bank account—the
one in the states as well as the one she'd opened in the Grand
Caymans, just because it tickled her—he'd laugh too.
Or maybe not. Men were touchy about their
women out-earning them. Unless they were mooches, and she took care
not to attract the sort of man who'd try to take advantage of
her.
"Want to clue me in on the joke?" Rob asked,
with curiosity rather than the annoyance she'd have expected.
Wiping the tears of mirth, she shook her
head. "Not today. Or at least not until you feed me."
He sighed. "Come on."
She walked alongside him, hiccupping the
occasional last bit of laughter. "I haven't had that good a laugh
in a while."
"I'm glad I could help."
"Just to clarify, I was laughing at me, not
you."
"If you want me to believe that, you'll have
to deliver it more convincingly."
She grinned. "I'm an awful actress. I'm
pretty much an open book. I never learned feminine wiles because I
was surrounded by boys. My mom was no help, because she was a
firefighter."
"Your mom?"
She nodded. "We were a rough and tumble
household. I'm scrappy. Don't ever try to arm wrestle me. I don't
play fair."
"I could have told you that," he
muttered.
Chanel barked in agreement.
"I love this dog." She smiled at the pooch.
"I'm so happy you decided to adopt her."
"She's not so bad." He bent down and
scratched its ears.
Aw . Robert Cray pretended like he was
a cold-ass business guy but he was mush on the inside.
Then Kristin frowned. "What do you do
for a living, Rob?"
"I run a hedge fund."
Successfully, based on the way he dressed and
that he lived in Laurel Heights.
They walked down the block and turned right.
Another block, a left turn, and he nodded at a house. "It's this
one."
She stood outside and looked at the building.
It was a three-story Edwardian cottage, nicely maintained with a
small but lovely front yard. "It's so cute," she exclaimed as she
hurried to follow him to the porch.
He opened the door and motioned her
inside.
She strode in and looked around. "It's a
whole house."
"Yes." He looked at her like she was insane.
Bending, he unlatched Chanel's leash.
The dog calmly trotted down the hallway,
obviously knowing where she was going.
Kristin ducked into the first doorway. There
was a large living room, decorated in shades of brown. Expensively
decorated, but
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