Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) by Kat Attalla

discourage easily, do you?”
    “No. I don’t,” he returned with the slightest hint of warning.
    Charlie wasn’t sure if she were annoyed or relieved. She couldn’t understand what the attraction was for him. He must know dozens of beautiful women who would be more than happy to have his attention. Why had he spent the last two Saturday nights sleeping on her floor?
    She tilted her head back to find him gazing curiously at her. His piercing eyes burned with questions, but he didn’t voice them. He deserved some kind of explanation, but she couldn’t bring herself to discuss what she tried so hard to forget. “Are you going to feed me or are you going to wait until I faint from hunger?”
    The last remaining bond of intimacy was broken. “I love it when you’re subtle and reserved.”
    She laughed and stepped back out of his arms. “Erik told me that I reminded him of a poor, lost waif who needed protection . . . until I opened my mouth. Then, anyone in a five-mile radius needed protection from me.”
    “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Do you want to eat in the dining room or should we just put it on the coffee table?”
    “The coffee table. I want to see the news,” she said, eyeing the giant-screen television at the far end of the room.
    He took the bags from the counter and handed them to Charlie. “We could watch a movie.”
    She started to remove the containers and neatly arrange them on the table. “No. I really have to get some studying in. If I keep hanging around you, I’ll blow my grade point average.”
    Damian took two plates from the china cabinet and put them down on the coffee table. “I’ve been accused of many things, but never of being a bad influence.” He removed two pillows from the sofa and placed them on the floor, lowering himself onto one.
    Charlie sat on the other and began opening the food. “I told you, you’re having a midlife crisis. Who knows what will follow?” She tentatively peeked into one of the containers. The delicate aroma of sautéed garlic made her realized how hungry she was. “What is this stuff?”
    “Don’t ask. I’ll tell you when you’re finished.”
    “I don’t eat what I can’t identify.”
    “Escargot.”
    Her smile faded. “Snails? Yuck. I knew we should have gone for pizza. How can you call yourselves the privileged class when you eat things that we lowly people use to clean our fish tanks? What else have you got?”
    “Frog legs, breaded eels, and raw oysters. I know how you love seafood.”
    She brought her hand to her stomach as a feeling of queasiness overcame her. “That’s not seafood. It’s a science experiment. No wonder you can’t get a date. I’ll just eat the bread.” She gazed up to find him laughing at her.
    “The escargot is true. The rest I think you’ll be able to identify.”
    “I knew I should have stayed home.”
    “Why won’t you admit you had a good time today? Is it against your principles to have fun every once in a while?” Coming from a man who hadn’t taken a day off in ten years, she found his question rather amusing, not to mention hypocritical.
    “You, of all people, should understand. I’ve got one shot at an education. I’ll have the rest of my life to have fun. For eight years I’ve worked in crummy jobs and lived in one-room apartments. And those were the good years. I’m never going back to that.” She stopped and made a conscious effort to tame the vehemence in her voice. “In answer to your question, yes I enjoyed myself today, but the timing was bad.”
    He nodded sadly. “You’re right, I do understand. What bothers me is that I chose my lifestyle; you didn’t get a choice. It shouldn’t have been like that.”
    “You can’t change that now.”
    “I know. But I would like to make the rest easier for you.”
    “You could help me with my studying. That would make my life easier.”
    He shook his head, frustrated by her deliberate misinterpretation of his offer. “That