with a hard laugh flung over her shoulder.
âNo boyfriend full stop. And before you progress to the painfully predictable male, you-must-be-a-lesbian lineâ¦Iâm not.â She stopped dead and frowned. âIâve not the faintest idea why Iâm explaining myself to you,â she admitted angrily.
His shoulders lifted. âDonât look at me, but go onâIâm finding it educational.â
Megan fixed him with a narrowed resentful glare. It was actually good adviceâ looking at him, â¦even hearing his deep drawl, was a recipe for stress and mental disintegration.
âI have no time for a boyfriend. As I have already told you, at this point in my life I want to concentrate all my energies on my career.â It made Megan so furious, if she had been a man her decision would not have caused any raised eyebrows.
âAndâ¦â he prompted when she stayed silent.
âThere is no and ,â she told him crossly.
âA love life or a career is not generally considered an either-or decision.â
âFor me they are.â
âArenât women meant to be big on multitasking?â
âThat rumour was undoubtedly started by a man who was more than happy for his partner to run herself ragged trying to do all the things he didnât have time for.â
Luc looked amused. âYou could be right, but you were engaged so you couldnât always have felt that way.â
Unconsciously Meganâs hand went to her cheek.
âHow did you know about Brian?â
âYour mother told me; she was pretty gutted that you chucked him.â
âShe got over it.â Frankly she didnât care if he thought she was a cold, heartless bitch.
âNo job is a substitute for sex.â
The way Brian did it, it was. âDid I say I was celibate?â
His brows lifted sardonically. âYour mother thinks you are.â
Megan flushed. âThis is the twenty-first century, Luc,â she told him, injecting scorn into her voice. âDoes everything have to be about sex?â When did I start panting? Megan pressed a hand to her throat and made a concerted effort to slow the shallow, rapid character of her breathing.
Knuckles pressed to the slight indent in his chin, Luc pretended to consider the matter. âYes.â Eyes that seemed scarily knowing zeroed in on her face.
Now she wasnât just panting as if sheâd been running a marathon, she was sweating too. Did everybody find his mouth as fascinating as she did? Megan wondered as she watched one corner drop in a cynical smirk.
âFew things in life are constant, but sex is,â he contended in a throaty purr that ought in a fair world to have been preceded by a âthere are flashing lights in this filmâ type warning for the susceptible.
Megan was definitely susceptible! The moisture between her aching thighs was ample evidence of that.
âIt doesnât really matter what decade or, for that matter, what century; it doesnât change. Scratch the surface of the most sophisticated male and youâll find a man who is thinking about sex. Take me, for instanceâ¦â
This smooth suggestion wrenched an instinctive croak of protest from Meganâs throat. He angled a questioning brow at her flushed, uncomfortable face.
âI donât think I will, if itâs all the same to you. You may be right about men, they probably havenât evolved beyond the Neanderthal, but womenâof course, I can only speak personallyâcan rise above their hormones. Weâve learnt how to work the system like men have been doing for years. A man doesnât date a woman with the primary intention of settling down and starting a family. Why should it be different for a woman?â
âSo youâre telling me that any sexual needs you have are satisfied by no-strings one-night stands.â
Megan wasnât, she had been blustering, but she was quite
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