Who's on Top? by Karen Kendall Page B

Arianna will think it’s quite the fashion statement.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him, but he continued despite the warning. “What’s the perfect foil for shark-tooth accessories? A grass skirt, perhaps? A top made of two coconut shells?”
    â€œThat’s enough, Sayers. You can keep your chauvinistic fantasies to yourself.”
    â€œOh, but that wouldn’t be any fun at all. I’d much rather share them with you. That way maybe you’ll invite me back to your place to view your lovely collection of shrunken heads.”
    â€œI’m not a headshrinker! I’m a behavioral psychologist and trainer. Can you cut me some slack here?”
    â€œMaybe I’d rather cut off your slacks.” His very white teeth gleamed at her.
    Her eyes widened. This had to stop, and now. She’d gone crazy and let things get way out of hand in the bar’s parking lot, God knew why. But enough was enough. “Okay, that’s it. We are going to disregard what happened and be professionals here. One more sexual comment out of you and I call a cab.”
    â€œThat’s a shame.”
    â€œI mean it,” she said.
    He raised his hands, palms up. “Okay. No more.”
    She tossed back some wine. “And you can start telling me right now why you’re using sex as a way to turn the conversation away from your main issue.”
    He felt his jaw tightening. “Which is…?”
    â€œBeing judged by women.”

9
    J ANE LOOKED INTO S AYERS’S blazing eyes. His jaw was a block of granite.
    â€œYou are way off base, O’Toole.” He drained the contents of his wineglass.
    â€œOh, I don’t think so. Let me guess—domineering mother, quite possibly verbally abusive. Father not around much?”
    â€œYou are so over the line.”
    â€œAnd you weren’t just now?”
    He pushed his chair back from the table, tossed his napkin on the surface.
    â€œRunning away? What does a big, tough guy like you have to get intimidated about? If I’m so off base here, why not set me straight?”
    He froze. “You’re going to regret this,” he said softly. “I can promise you that.”
    â€œMaybe.” She couldn’t help a shiver but refused to look away.
    He sneered at her. “You really want to go there, huh? I suppose your professional instincts—and your vulgar curiosity—just scream for the information.Well, why not, Doc? After all, you’re so damned sure you know everything already.”
    She didn’t blink, didn’t back off, and his sneer grew more pronounced, but he began.
    â€œOne of my earliest memories of Mommy Dearest is of her tossing me up on a high-strung two-year-old thoroughbred, seventeen hands. She gives me the reins and then slaps the bejesus out of its hindquarters.
    â€œI’d never ridden a horse in my life. My only emotion was terror, I can tell you—absolute terror. I hung on to that beast like a burr while it bucked uncontrollably and then galloped for miles, trying to scrape me off on trees, fence posts, even the side of a barn. You know how I dismounted? When the creature finally wore itself out, dropped to its knees and rolled on me.”
    Jane had covered her mouth with her hand and simply stared at him as he continued.
    â€œMummy and her martini thought it was fabulous entertainment—she laughed herself sick—until she had to rush me to the emergency room with several crushed ribs and a snapped femur. Simply ruined the rest of the day for her, I’m sad to say.” Dominic poured himself some more wine.
    â€œThen there was the sailing incident. Listen up, Jane. This is a good one! Mummy and her current beau hauled me out onto the Chesapeake on his shiny new J-35. No doubt she couldn’t find anyone to dump me on.
    â€œSomehow between the rumrunners and the seabreezes, they got a little confused with the lines and ignored the threat of some