efforts to colonize Mars, he wouldn’t like that. He needed to remember that these charts represented reality to her in the way that space travel represented reality to him. Some people scoffed at both things. He resolved not to be a scoffer.
“Let’s have you sit down in the easy chair again.”
“Okay. There’s wine left. I kept the goblets. Want some?”
“A little. I need to concentrate.”
There wasn’t much left, so he divided up what was in the bottle sitting on the desk. No doubt he’d had the lion’s share of both bottles, although he hadn’t kept track until now. She’d been holding back, as any professional would naturally do.
He admired that. In the socially accepted scenario, the man coaxed the woman to drink more while he remained coolly in charge. They had a role reversal going on, but he discovered he was fine with that.
Wine glass in hand, he settled into the easy chair. Then something else occurred to him. “If you have my transit chart finished, why don’t you print that out, too? Then we’ll have all the research in front of us.”
She glanced over at him. “I must be hearing things. I could have sworn you just referred to my charts as research. That can’t be right.”
“And here I’ve been so carefully avoiding sarcasm.”
Her eyes flashed with regret. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I have trouble giving up my defensive posture.”
“I’ll bet. I’m sure you’ve been beat up on a fair bit.”
“Yes, I have. But you had it worse in high school. That’s a terrible age to be ridiculed by your peers.”
He smiled at her. “Did they ridicule me? I didn’t notice.”
She gave him a look that made his pulse leap. There was a kiss in that look, sure as the world. Had they been closer . . . but she was at the desk minding the printer and he was several feet away in a chair holding his wine glass. The moment passed, damn it.
He sipped his wine and watched her fooling with the computer and the printer. Her hair fell in a silky curtain in front of her face when she leaned over to double-check something on the screen. The movement tightened the seat of her black jeans. For the first time he noticed that her figure was slightly fuller than it had been in high school.
A man could go quietly insane gazing at a figure like hers, especially a man who’d had paradise in his grasp and had let it slip through his fingers. What if he set down his wine glass, got up, and wrapped his arms around her from behind? What if he told her that he didn’t give a shit about these charts when a king-sized bed was only feet away?
Then he’d draw back her hair and nuzzle the soft curve of her neck. She’d melt against him and come in direct contact with the firm thrust of his cock through the stiff denim of his jeans. With a moan of surrender, she’d turn in his arms and lift her mouth to his . . . .
“Here are all the charts.” She shoved them under his nose and interrupted the sweetest fantasy of his life. “I want to go on record as being grateful that you didn’t let things get out of hand a while ago. It would have been a huge mistake.”
Pop went the bubble of his erotic dream. “Then I’m glad I held off.” He didn’t think it would have been a huge mistake, not in retrospect, but if she did, then he’d take comfort in knowing that he’d saved her from herself.
She sat in the rolling desk chair and positioned herself in front of him, but she kept about three feet between his knees and hers. “Should we finish up your birth chart first?”
“I’d rather get into yours.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on what had been an obvious double entendre. “All right.”
“I found the Mc. But the rest of it is Greek to me.” He thought that was cute since the symbols were mostly all Greek.
“Ha, ha. Well, I have a Cancer moon in my fifth house. Can you find that?”
He studied the chart, which looked nothing like his. “Yep, got it. What does that
“Let’s have you sit down in the easy chair again.”
“Okay. There’s wine left. I kept the goblets. Want some?”
“A little. I need to concentrate.”
There wasn’t much left, so he divided up what was in the bottle sitting on the desk. No doubt he’d had the lion’s share of both bottles, although he hadn’t kept track until now. She’d been holding back, as any professional would naturally do.
He admired that. In the socially accepted scenario, the man coaxed the woman to drink more while he remained coolly in charge. They had a role reversal going on, but he discovered he was fine with that.
Wine glass in hand, he settled into the easy chair. Then something else occurred to him. “If you have my transit chart finished, why don’t you print that out, too? Then we’ll have all the research in front of us.”
She glanced over at him. “I must be hearing things. I could have sworn you just referred to my charts as research. That can’t be right.”
“And here I’ve been so carefully avoiding sarcasm.”
Her eyes flashed with regret. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I have trouble giving up my defensive posture.”
“I’ll bet. I’m sure you’ve been beat up on a fair bit.”
“Yes, I have. But you had it worse in high school. That’s a terrible age to be ridiculed by your peers.”
He smiled at her. “Did they ridicule me? I didn’t notice.”
She gave him a look that made his pulse leap. There was a kiss in that look, sure as the world. Had they been closer . . . but she was at the desk minding the printer and he was several feet away in a chair holding his wine glass. The moment passed, damn it.
He sipped his wine and watched her fooling with the computer and the printer. Her hair fell in a silky curtain in front of her face when she leaned over to double-check something on the screen. The movement tightened the seat of her black jeans. For the first time he noticed that her figure was slightly fuller than it had been in high school.
A man could go quietly insane gazing at a figure like hers, especially a man who’d had paradise in his grasp and had let it slip through his fingers. What if he set down his wine glass, got up, and wrapped his arms around her from behind? What if he told her that he didn’t give a shit about these charts when a king-sized bed was only feet away?
Then he’d draw back her hair and nuzzle the soft curve of her neck. She’d melt against him and come in direct contact with the firm thrust of his cock through the stiff denim of his jeans. With a moan of surrender, she’d turn in his arms and lift her mouth to his . . . .
“Here are all the charts.” She shoved them under his nose and interrupted the sweetest fantasy of his life. “I want to go on record as being grateful that you didn’t let things get out of hand a while ago. It would have been a huge mistake.”
Pop went the bubble of his erotic dream. “Then I’m glad I held off.” He didn’t think it would have been a huge mistake, not in retrospect, but if she did, then he’d take comfort in knowing that he’d saved her from herself.
She sat in the rolling desk chair and positioned herself in front of him, but she kept about three feet between his knees and hers. “Should we finish up your birth chart first?”
“I’d rather get into yours.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on what had been an obvious double entendre. “All right.”
“I found the Mc. But the rest of it is Greek to me.” He thought that was cute since the symbols were mostly all Greek.
“Ha, ha. Well, I have a Cancer moon in my fifth house. Can you find that?”
He studied the chart, which looked nothing like his. “Yep, got it. What does that
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