disappointed.
Sam shook his head at the woman and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Give the lady what she ordered.”
When the window slid shut, Sam glared at Clare. “When you’re with me, I expect you to order what
you
want, not what’s easiest or cheapest.”
Sam’s tone brought Clare’s chin up sharply. “Next time you’re paying, I’ll order one of everything. Excuse the hell out of me for being practical!”
“Practical? Hardly. I saw your face. I saw the conditioned response. I asked you once if you’d spent a lot ofyour life giving up things. You avoided the question. I’d bet my last dollar the answer was yes.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. To hide the flush, Clare glanced over her shoulder at an approaching couple. “You’ve been reading too damn many pop-psychology books.”
Leaning over, Sam whispered, his breath fanning her cheek. “The only reading I’ve been doing is between the lines. And God help me, you fascinate me.”
Startled by the husky promise in his voice, Clare drew in a sharp breath and swung her gaze to his. The uncertain yellow light cast shadows that darkened his eyes to black. When he didn’t look away, her stomach gave the funny lurch it always gave when she found herself losing control. She wasn’t having fun anymore. She didn’t like the electrical charges that zipped along her nerves as he managed to hold her with nothing more than a look in his eyes.
She felt like an actress who’d been promised a wonderful part and then given a blank paper. She was supposed to be witty and charming and send him on his way with a pat on the head. Instead, she was tongue-tied and wanted to bury her fingers in his blond mane.
He wasn’t supposed to make a troubled confession about finding her fascinating. But he had. The look in his eyes wasn’t supposed to awaken the most unlikely places in her body. But it did. She wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss her. But she wanted to, all right, and she was having trouble remembering why kissing Sam was a bad idea.
“You want napkins?” asked the woman as she slid two large containers of ice cream through the window.
“Please,” Sam said, and finally turned away fromClare. He grabbed their desserts and jerked his head toward the benches.
Relieved that the awkward moment had evaporated, Clare chose the concrete table farthest from the intersection and sat down. Sam slid in across from her and handed her the ice cream container, urging her to take it.
“I won’t bite,” he said. Then he added, “At least not until you’re ready.”
Audibly, Clare sucked in a breath, and then clamped her mouth shut.
Sam ferried a spoon of whipped cream, fudge, and strawberry to his mouth. “At least you have the good sense not to deny it anymore.”
“Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?” Clare demanded. “Because you are. I’m as uncomfortable as hell. I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t have time for what’s going on here. I don’t even know where the assignment ends and you begin.”
“Is that important?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
With an effort, she dragged her gaze from his and concentrated on the sinfully rich raspberry sauce drizzled over hot fudge and French vanilla ice cream. Without hurrying, she let the spoon and its precious cargo glide into her mouth. She rolled the taste around on her tongue and closed her eyes before returning to the conversation. When she finished her first bite, she stared at him silently for a moment. Then she said, “You’re not what I bargained for, Tucker.”
“What? You think I phoned the Easter bunny and said, ‘Hey, guy, please drop an impossible woman into my life. One who’ll fit my body like I’d want a glove to fit! Give her a personality that says look but don’t touch.Oh, and by the way, make sure she’s taking my class so I can worry about getting sued for sexual harassment.’ ” Sam glared at her and mined some more bananas from his
Sam shook his head at the woman and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Give the lady what she ordered.”
When the window slid shut, Sam glared at Clare. “When you’re with me, I expect you to order what
you
want, not what’s easiest or cheapest.”
Sam’s tone brought Clare’s chin up sharply. “Next time you’re paying, I’ll order one of everything. Excuse the hell out of me for being practical!”
“Practical? Hardly. I saw your face. I saw the conditioned response. I asked you once if you’d spent a lot ofyour life giving up things. You avoided the question. I’d bet my last dollar the answer was yes.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. To hide the flush, Clare glanced over her shoulder at an approaching couple. “You’ve been reading too damn many pop-psychology books.”
Leaning over, Sam whispered, his breath fanning her cheek. “The only reading I’ve been doing is between the lines. And God help me, you fascinate me.”
Startled by the husky promise in his voice, Clare drew in a sharp breath and swung her gaze to his. The uncertain yellow light cast shadows that darkened his eyes to black. When he didn’t look away, her stomach gave the funny lurch it always gave when she found herself losing control. She wasn’t having fun anymore. She didn’t like the electrical charges that zipped along her nerves as he managed to hold her with nothing more than a look in his eyes.
She felt like an actress who’d been promised a wonderful part and then given a blank paper. She was supposed to be witty and charming and send him on his way with a pat on the head. Instead, she was tongue-tied and wanted to bury her fingers in his blond mane.
He wasn’t supposed to make a troubled confession about finding her fascinating. But he had. The look in his eyes wasn’t supposed to awaken the most unlikely places in her body. But it did. She wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss her. But she wanted to, all right, and she was having trouble remembering why kissing Sam was a bad idea.
“You want napkins?” asked the woman as she slid two large containers of ice cream through the window.
“Please,” Sam said, and finally turned away fromClare. He grabbed their desserts and jerked his head toward the benches.
Relieved that the awkward moment had evaporated, Clare chose the concrete table farthest from the intersection and sat down. Sam slid in across from her and handed her the ice cream container, urging her to take it.
“I won’t bite,” he said. Then he added, “At least not until you’re ready.”
Audibly, Clare sucked in a breath, and then clamped her mouth shut.
Sam ferried a spoon of whipped cream, fudge, and strawberry to his mouth. “At least you have the good sense not to deny it anymore.”
“Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?” Clare demanded. “Because you are. I’m as uncomfortable as hell. I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t have time for what’s going on here. I don’t even know where the assignment ends and you begin.”
“Is that important?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
With an effort, she dragged her gaze from his and concentrated on the sinfully rich raspberry sauce drizzled over hot fudge and French vanilla ice cream. Without hurrying, she let the spoon and its precious cargo glide into her mouth. She rolled the taste around on her tongue and closed her eyes before returning to the conversation. When she finished her first bite, she stared at him silently for a moment. Then she said, “You’re not what I bargained for, Tucker.”
“What? You think I phoned the Easter bunny and said, ‘Hey, guy, please drop an impossible woman into my life. One who’ll fit my body like I’d want a glove to fit! Give her a personality that says look but don’t touch.Oh, and by the way, make sure she’s taking my class so I can worry about getting sued for sexual harassment.’ ” Sam glared at her and mined some more bananas from his
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