Playing With Fire (Sweet Redemption) by Rose Francis Page B

want.”
    Janet was genuinely angry now, but because he was right.
    He was toying with her, as if she were some stupid pet, walking a treadmill to try to catch some treat on a string.
    How dare he play her for a fool? For some silly, indulgent fool?
    “Are you surprised that I’m not intimidated by the great Leonard Cooper’s daughter like most men probably are?”
    Janet all of a sudden felt close to storming out and hailing a cab.
    “Fine, I’ll play fair,” he said suddenly. “I’m early thirties, originally from the state of Washington, and I’ve been looking for a girl like you my entire life.”
    Janet’s anger instantly vanished, replaced by heat of another kind. She was touched, his tender words piercing her more than even his desire had.
    She was stunned speechless while her heart melted, and looking up at him only made it all worse—he looked like he meant it.
    “I’ve said too much,” he said. “Just know that you’re safe with me Janet. I need you to remember that.”
    What was he talking about?
    “Why should I believe you? Anything you say? This is probably all part of your seduction plan,” she said poking at the remaining salmon with her fork.
    His hand reached across and grabbed hers swiftly, and his face held an odd expression she’d seen before, but he said nothing as he held her gaze.
    He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.
    “How much have I held back so far Janet? Compared to what I could’ve held back?”
    Janet conceded. It was true—even when his words were few or nonexistent, the looks he gave her and his facial expressions said plenty, and he never really seemed to bother to hide any of it.
    “I never imagined you’d be so...forthright,” she said quietly.
    His eyes arrested hers suddenly—widened, and looking particularly intelligent.
    “What do you mean?” he asked, almost suspiciously.
    Janet ran her words over again in her mind and realized she hadn’t given herself away.
    She’d been thinking about the version of him she’d created when she was thirteen.
    She remembered his physical appearance, and the way he handled her in her fantasies—always gentle and loving and he matched both in reality. But she hadn’t created much of a personality for him back then, certainly not one that included him telling her what was on his mind boldly; she hadn’t dreamed he would be so straightforward.
    His own candidness was starting to make her want to be more honest and upfront.
    She smiled and looked down, knowing she couldn’t say what she’d planned if she was looking at him, those analytical blue eyes studying her.
    He made her feel like she was under a microscope sometimes.
    “Listen, I made this pledge,” she began, “to myself. I’ve had a bad run with men—you met the latest one—and I promised myself...” She stopped, chuckling, realizing how silly it all sounded out loud. “I promised myself to go at least three months without...you know.”
    She could feel him smiling, and she could see it clearly in her mind’s eye—a crooked smile laced with light ridicule.
    He was silent, and it made her look up.
    She saw that she was exactly right about his smile.
    Then it occurred to her what an effective tactic he had been using on her—it seemed whenever he wanted to force her to look at him, he remained silent. But even knowing that, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist his silence, wanting to have some indication of what he was thinking.
    “How many days do you have left?” he asked, still smiling.
    Janet sighed dramatically.
    “About sixty,” she said. Fifty-nine to be exact .
    Eric laughed, and Janet was struck by the richness of it and his gorgeous smile. He even had an adorable light dimple on one of his cheeks.
    “Good luck with that,” he said going back to his food.
    ***
    When Eric took her back home and she got out of the car, to her surprise, so did he. He parked, shut the car off, and climbed out.
    She looked at him, disbelieving,