heated, sending its warmth to her nerve endings.
“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.
“I was engaged once,” she said, deciding talking was better than thinking. “You were married before, right?”
“Yes. My wife wanted Alan Alda, and I just couldn’t be that any longer.”
“I can’t imagine you as Mr. Sensitive.”
“I’m wonderfully sensitive in certain places—”
“That’s not what I was talking about.”
“Right. The dull stuff. There isn’t much to tell. We deferred to her career, until mine reached a critical point. I’d turned down every promotion that entailed moving, but one was for a company in trouble, rather like Wayans. I refused the job. They went under. I didn’t turn down the next promotion, and my former wife threw a fit over my ‘chauvinism.’ She left me. I figured afterward that I was better off. All we had in common was her job. No children. She was never ready.”
That explained a lot, Charity thought, mentally chewing on the notion.
“How about your engagement?” he asked. “What happened?”
“I was very young,” she said, deciding to share. “But we argued more and more the closer we got to the wedding date, until we realized we weren’t ready.”
“Lived with anyone?”
“Yes. Twice, not including my fiancé. I never lived with him.” She wondered what Jake would think of her sexual track record, if it would give him ideas about them that she wasn’t prepared to deal with. “The last would have been a perfect candidate for your men’s movement. Neanderthal was about his speed. He was a big mistake.”
“He was a fool,” Jake said.
“Actually, I finally wasn’t. Still, when you’re nearly thirty and statistics say you’re more likely to meet a terrorist than a decent man, one does begin to grasp at straws.”
“Well, you’ve found me. Now all I have to do is convince you. I think I’ve figured out how.”
“How?” she asked, curious.
“This. We haven’t talked business once, you know. Now I’m going to get personal. What are you wearing?”
She glanced down at herself and said dubiously, “My nightgown.”
“I bet it’s silk. No.” His voice lowered. “It’s cotton, soft, soft cotton, so thin it’s almost see-through. You think it’s a nightgown like any other. But a man would find it sexy.”
Charity touched the material at her waist, feelingthe softness of the fabric and her warm flesh underneath it. It was as if he’d touched her himself.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she said, her own voice husky.
“I can see you stretching your body under the sheets in that leisurely way you have that’s incredibly sensual. You did it at the lake.”
“I did?”
“You did. You might as well have punched me in the stomach, that’s how much you took my breath. Why do you think I couldn’t resist kissing you?”
“I …”
“I still can’t, you know.”
The conversation was getting dangerous, too dangerous. She felt as if she were in a fire about to erupt to volatile proportions. Their talk was way beyond normal bantering, she knew she should stop it, yet she didn’t want to. She couldn’t remember a man talking to her this way for a long time. If ever. Never had she felt more female, more feminine.
“And your hair,” he continued. “It’s loose and tumbled over the pillow, isn’t it? Tempting a man’s hand. You tempt a man’s hand, Charity. You’ll have me making pup tents all night under my sheet just thinking about you.”
She gasped, realizing
exactly
what he was talking about. “Jake!”
“It’s a statement of fact. Being right next to you like this, I think they’re going to be circus tents.”
“This is rapidly becoming an obscene phone call,” she said sternly.
“It’s been there and back again. Are you sure you’re not Prudence or Virtue in disguise?”
She chuckled. “It would serve you right if I were.”
“Well then, get off the line and let me speak to your sister.
“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.
“I was engaged once,” she said, deciding talking was better than thinking. “You were married before, right?”
“Yes. My wife wanted Alan Alda, and I just couldn’t be that any longer.”
“I can’t imagine you as Mr. Sensitive.”
“I’m wonderfully sensitive in certain places—”
“That’s not what I was talking about.”
“Right. The dull stuff. There isn’t much to tell. We deferred to her career, until mine reached a critical point. I’d turned down every promotion that entailed moving, but one was for a company in trouble, rather like Wayans. I refused the job. They went under. I didn’t turn down the next promotion, and my former wife threw a fit over my ‘chauvinism.’ She left me. I figured afterward that I was better off. All we had in common was her job. No children. She was never ready.”
That explained a lot, Charity thought, mentally chewing on the notion.
“How about your engagement?” he asked. “What happened?”
“I was very young,” she said, deciding to share. “But we argued more and more the closer we got to the wedding date, until we realized we weren’t ready.”
“Lived with anyone?”
“Yes. Twice, not including my fiancé. I never lived with him.” She wondered what Jake would think of her sexual track record, if it would give him ideas about them that she wasn’t prepared to deal with. “The last would have been a perfect candidate for your men’s movement. Neanderthal was about his speed. He was a big mistake.”
“He was a fool,” Jake said.
“Actually, I finally wasn’t. Still, when you’re nearly thirty and statistics say you’re more likely to meet a terrorist than a decent man, one does begin to grasp at straws.”
“Well, you’ve found me. Now all I have to do is convince you. I think I’ve figured out how.”
“How?” she asked, curious.
“This. We haven’t talked business once, you know. Now I’m going to get personal. What are you wearing?”
She glanced down at herself and said dubiously, “My nightgown.”
“I bet it’s silk. No.” His voice lowered. “It’s cotton, soft, soft cotton, so thin it’s almost see-through. You think it’s a nightgown like any other. But a man would find it sexy.”
Charity touched the material at her waist, feelingthe softness of the fabric and her warm flesh underneath it. It was as if he’d touched her himself.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she said, her own voice husky.
“I can see you stretching your body under the sheets in that leisurely way you have that’s incredibly sensual. You did it at the lake.”
“I did?”
“You did. You might as well have punched me in the stomach, that’s how much you took my breath. Why do you think I couldn’t resist kissing you?”
“I …”
“I still can’t, you know.”
The conversation was getting dangerous, too dangerous. She felt as if she were in a fire about to erupt to volatile proportions. Their talk was way beyond normal bantering, she knew she should stop it, yet she didn’t want to. She couldn’t remember a man talking to her this way for a long time. If ever. Never had she felt more female, more feminine.
“And your hair,” he continued. “It’s loose and tumbled over the pillow, isn’t it? Tempting a man’s hand. You tempt a man’s hand, Charity. You’ll have me making pup tents all night under my sheet just thinking about you.”
She gasped, realizing
exactly
what he was talking about. “Jake!”
“It’s a statement of fact. Being right next to you like this, I think they’re going to be circus tents.”
“This is rapidly becoming an obscene phone call,” she said sternly.
“It’s been there and back again. Are you sure you’re not Prudence or Virtue in disguise?”
She chuckled. “It would serve you right if I were.”
“Well then, get off the line and let me speak to your sister.
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