propelled the Bentley toward Tucson.
I’m not.
Liar, liar, panties on fire.
She’d only known the guy twenty-four hours. She couldn’t be falling for him.
Maybe not, but every single time he leveled his brown eyes and cocked his dimples at her, she broke out in a cold sweat.
Ah, jeeze. She was screwed.
I won’t fall for him. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. I don’t care how cute and brown-eyed and long-legged the man is.
She had to keep her guard up and her tongue sharp if she hoped to survive this jaunt through the desert with her dignity intact. So what if he thought she was a bitch. It was better than getting her heart broken. Again.
Moistening her lips, Charlee inched her Ray Bans down on her nose with an index finger and sneaked a quick peek over at him.
Mason was leaning back in the plush leather seat, his long legs folded at an uncomfortable-looking angle. She found herself tracing a path from his expensive leather shoes up the length of his body to his broad chest. She caught her breath and flicked a look at his face.
Thank God his eyes were closed and he hadn’t caught her giving him the once-over. His hands lay folded across his stomach and his chest rose and fell in a smooth, steady rhythm.
She studied his profile. Regal nose, solid jaw, high cheekbones. She felt kind of soupy inside, like she’d drunk too much water too quickly. She recalled when they’d high-fived each other and a fresh shiver of something nice mixed with something very scary tangoed through her.
After the great escape back there on the freeway, Mason had pulled over, taken the keys from the ignition, dropped them into her hand, and said, “Take over, Champagne. I’m not cut out for high-speed chase stuff.”
Amazed, she simply accepted the keys and switched places with him again, but she couldn’t help pondering his change of heart. After he’d successfully eluded the Malibu, he was downright triumphant. He’d grinned like a kid, his eyes feverish with the thrill.
He’d
enjoyed
it.
Perhaps, Charlee postulated, that’s what bugged him. He didn’t know how to cut loose and have a good time. Mr. Buttoned-down pops a button and doesn’t know how to handle himself.
And don’t be getting any wise ideas about becoming his teacher.
Oh, but wouldn’t he make a glorious teacher’s pet.
Stop it!
Her palms grew sweaty on the wheel and her heart reeled drunkenly against the wall of her chest. She was headed for deep trouble, entertaining such thoughts. She was not going to fall again. No way, no how. No, no, no.
Who was she kidding? It was all she could do not to pull the car over and jump his bones right here and now.
Damn her hide but she’d always been attracted to sophisticated men who were so far out of her league she couldn’t reach them with a high bounce on a trampoline. She knew better than to tumble for another rich brown-eyed handsome man.
They were opposites in every way. He was the kind of guy who’d dip a toe in the water, testing the temperature before going for a swim. She dove right in and took what she got. He was a linen napkin kind of guy. She was paper towels. His life was planned, well ordered. Hers was chaos and she liked it that way.
Unfortunately, something about him whispered to the soft feminine side of her she’d stuffed down deep a long time ago. He made her feel smart and savvy and admirable. He respected her. That was a first from guys like him.
And he made her want things she had no business wanting.
Rather than think about the potent male beside her, Charlee jammed her sunglasses back into place and returned her focus to the road. White-hot heat poured from the cloudless blue sky and bounced a shimmer of radiant waves up from the asphalt. She studied the desert, the wide expanse of dry barren land most people eschewed but which an intrepid few embraced.
While some might find the desert a lonely, desolate place, she felt differently. The desert was alive with nature. You just
I’m not.
Liar, liar, panties on fire.
She’d only known the guy twenty-four hours. She couldn’t be falling for him.
Maybe not, but every single time he leveled his brown eyes and cocked his dimples at her, she broke out in a cold sweat.
Ah, jeeze. She was screwed.
I won’t fall for him. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. I don’t care how cute and brown-eyed and long-legged the man is.
She had to keep her guard up and her tongue sharp if she hoped to survive this jaunt through the desert with her dignity intact. So what if he thought she was a bitch. It was better than getting her heart broken. Again.
Moistening her lips, Charlee inched her Ray Bans down on her nose with an index finger and sneaked a quick peek over at him.
Mason was leaning back in the plush leather seat, his long legs folded at an uncomfortable-looking angle. She found herself tracing a path from his expensive leather shoes up the length of his body to his broad chest. She caught her breath and flicked a look at his face.
Thank God his eyes were closed and he hadn’t caught her giving him the once-over. His hands lay folded across his stomach and his chest rose and fell in a smooth, steady rhythm.
She studied his profile. Regal nose, solid jaw, high cheekbones. She felt kind of soupy inside, like she’d drunk too much water too quickly. She recalled when they’d high-fived each other and a fresh shiver of something nice mixed with something very scary tangoed through her.
After the great escape back there on the freeway, Mason had pulled over, taken the keys from the ignition, dropped them into her hand, and said, “Take over, Champagne. I’m not cut out for high-speed chase stuff.”
Amazed, she simply accepted the keys and switched places with him again, but she couldn’t help pondering his change of heart. After he’d successfully eluded the Malibu, he was downright triumphant. He’d grinned like a kid, his eyes feverish with the thrill.
He’d
enjoyed
it.
Perhaps, Charlee postulated, that’s what bugged him. He didn’t know how to cut loose and have a good time. Mr. Buttoned-down pops a button and doesn’t know how to handle himself.
And don’t be getting any wise ideas about becoming his teacher.
Oh, but wouldn’t he make a glorious teacher’s pet.
Stop it!
Her palms grew sweaty on the wheel and her heart reeled drunkenly against the wall of her chest. She was headed for deep trouble, entertaining such thoughts. She was not going to fall again. No way, no how. No, no, no.
Who was she kidding? It was all she could do not to pull the car over and jump his bones right here and now.
Damn her hide but she’d always been attracted to sophisticated men who were so far out of her league she couldn’t reach them with a high bounce on a trampoline. She knew better than to tumble for another rich brown-eyed handsome man.
They were opposites in every way. He was the kind of guy who’d dip a toe in the water, testing the temperature before going for a swim. She dove right in and took what she got. He was a linen napkin kind of guy. She was paper towels. His life was planned, well ordered. Hers was chaos and she liked it that way.
Unfortunately, something about him whispered to the soft feminine side of her she’d stuffed down deep a long time ago. He made her feel smart and savvy and admirable. He respected her. That was a first from guys like him.
And he made her want things she had no business wanting.
Rather than think about the potent male beside her, Charlee jammed her sunglasses back into place and returned her focus to the road. White-hot heat poured from the cloudless blue sky and bounced a shimmer of radiant waves up from the asphalt. She studied the desert, the wide expanse of dry barren land most people eschewed but which an intrepid few embraced.
While some might find the desert a lonely, desolate place, she felt differently. The desert was alive with nature. You just
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