Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger by Kimberly Lang Page B

better.” She leaned back in the chair and blew out her breath noisily. “There’s now about four chapters of my dissertation I may want to revise before I publish.”
    â€œMegan,” he began.
    â€œLook, Dev—” she said at the same time. She interrupted herself and yielded the floor. “Sorry, go ahead.”
    â€œLadies first.”
    She took another of those deep breaths. “You know, I do appreciate what you tried to do tonight. It’s my fault Ididn’t quite understand what would happen. In retrospect, if I’d thought it all the way through, I’d have realized this wasn’t quite the magic bullet I hoped it would be. But that’s not your fault. Hopefully, it will help a little, maybe make it die down a little faster.” She reached for her bag and settled the strap on her shoulder. “But now I’m going to go home and pack for Canada.”
    â€œThat’s a good idea. A vacation would do you some good. Maybe this will all be over when you get back.” He doubted it, but Megan would be better off believing that. She could enjoy her vacation and be better prepared to face whatever was still being churned around in the press when she did get back.
    Megan snorted and rubbed her hands over her face. She stood, then turned back to him, a question on her face. “I’m sorry. It’s your turn now. What were you going to say?”
    He thought for a moment. Megan seemed to be calming down, and spinning her up again wouldn’t help anything. Neither would continuing their delightful trip down memory lane. The past was past, and as an adult, he should let it go and move on.
    He’d show her who’d grown up and who hadn’t. He would be the mature one if it killed him in the process.
    â€œDo you need a ride home?”
    Â 
    Megan finally understood what drove some of her clients to drink. She’d always told them it was an excuse or a crutch, but at this moment she knew why so many people sought solace and calm in a bottle. She desperately needed a drink to calm her nerves, soothe her brain and numb a little of the unbelievably powerful and conflicting emotions tumbling through her.
    But Devin… After everything that had happened tonight—including the amazingly painful opening of oldscars—he seemed able to brush it all aside. Was Devin really that unfeeling now? Or did that coldness extend only to her? The idea bothered her a little at the same time she envied that ability. He’d gone from looking at her as if he’d gladly strangle her to calmly offering her a ride home without missing a beat.
    â€œNo, thank you. Kate sent a car….” She trailed off when Devin shook his head.
    â€œKate may have sent a car for you, but I promise she didn’t arrange for one to take you home.”
    Every friendly feeling she’d had toward Kate had died off quite a while ago, and Megan was rapidly moving toward wanting to rip out Kate’s beautiful shampoo-ad-quality hair now. She shot a dirty look through the window into the producer’s booth, but Kate was busy with her computer. “I’ll get the guard at the front desk to call me a cab, then.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous. I drove myself in tonight, and I can run you home.”
    She wasn’t about to admit to Devin that she didn’t want a ride from him. She didn’t want to put herself in another, even smaller enclosed space with him tonight. Although the tension built from their arguing and their past was making her desperately crave a glass of wine, she could handle that. She would be fine once she had a little time and distance to process the violent whirlpool of emotions in her stomach.
    No, she didn’t want to get into a car with Devin, because the one thing she couldn’t process or even address right now—especially while he was in the same room with her—was the disturbing reaction of her body.