shoulder.
“Um, what question?”
She smiled. She had him flustered, just as she’d planned. The dress had done its job. “You know — wedding bells, honeymoon, wife number three?”
“No. Marriage obviously doesn’t agree with me, and vice versa.”
As they walked along the wide hallway, she wondered again what kind of man would marry and divorce twice at such a young age. At least he was smart enough to refrain from reproducing and putting his kids through the hell of divorce.
The occasional clanking of barbells or pounding of a racquet ball reached her ears, but for the most part, the place seemed to be clearing out. She remembered reading on the front door the club closed at nine. “This is a beautiful place, Everest. How long have you been in business?”
“A little over five years.”
“Didn’t I hear at the Extravaganza you started with one club and now have over fifty?”
He nodded but said nothing.
At least he wasn’t a braggart. A checkmark in his “plus” column. One of few. She whistled under her breath. “You should be proud of yourself. I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business, let alone running a franchise. You must be pretty smart.”
“Maybe I’ll show you my business plan someday.” He yanked her into a room on the right, shutting the door behind them. For a moment they were in complete darkness and she thought perhaps she’d taken her game a bit too far.
The lights flickered on. A quick look revealed a padded table and a shelf full of lotions and oils. A massage room. She peered up at John. He wore that same intensely arrogant stare she’d hated so much the first time they’d met. Strange, but it didn’t bother her now. In fact, it was kind of—
“Okay, beautiful,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s up?”
“Excuse me?”
He smirked. “The new attitude, Samantha. The last time I saw you, you hated my guts. Now you show up in this dress, you ask all sorts of personal questions and make nicey nicey, like you’re trying to butter me up for something. I can’t figure it out. You’re not looking for a husband, you’re not looking for sex—” his mouth twitched, “but you’re up to something. So, come on. Out with it.”
“Can’t a woman be nice to you without you becoming all suspicious?”
“Not you.”
“Haven’t you heard about us Geminis? We’re really moody, like a split personality. One minute we behave one way, the next we—”
“Samantha.”
She sighed, realizing he’d backed her into a corner, figuratively and literally. She smoothed her dress over her hips, hoping she could distract him with a better view. No such luck. “Okay. Look. I won’t pretend I was thrilled when you conned me into going out with you. I’d had a horrible day and was in a really bad mood by the time you saw me. So, about tonight… I figured I could continue to act like a bitch and make the evening miserable, or I could be nice and pretend to have a good time.”
His eyes narrowed. Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
He shook his head, still chuckling. “Most women would beat around the bush or make up some story, but not you. Honest to the core, aren’t you? I should’ve known.”
She smiled at him. Damn, she was good.
“So what’s with this dress? Is that just part of trying to be nice?” he asked, raking his eyes over her. His gaze lingered on her cleavage. Sam’s nipples tightened in response. She hoped he didn’t notice. His raised eyebrows told her he had.
“What? This old thing?” she drawled, fingering the shimmery material, hoping to keep the moment light. “It’s just something I had lying around.”
He moved in closer, backing her further into the corner. He reached forward and for a moment she thought he might kiss her — her lips tingled at the thought. But he just rustled her earring. The silvery strands tickled her neck. He met her gaze and held it. “Why do I still get the
“Um, what question?”
She smiled. She had him flustered, just as she’d planned. The dress had done its job. “You know — wedding bells, honeymoon, wife number three?”
“No. Marriage obviously doesn’t agree with me, and vice versa.”
As they walked along the wide hallway, she wondered again what kind of man would marry and divorce twice at such a young age. At least he was smart enough to refrain from reproducing and putting his kids through the hell of divorce.
The occasional clanking of barbells or pounding of a racquet ball reached her ears, but for the most part, the place seemed to be clearing out. She remembered reading on the front door the club closed at nine. “This is a beautiful place, Everest. How long have you been in business?”
“A little over five years.”
“Didn’t I hear at the Extravaganza you started with one club and now have over fifty?”
He nodded but said nothing.
At least he wasn’t a braggart. A checkmark in his “plus” column. One of few. She whistled under her breath. “You should be proud of yourself. I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business, let alone running a franchise. You must be pretty smart.”
“Maybe I’ll show you my business plan someday.” He yanked her into a room on the right, shutting the door behind them. For a moment they were in complete darkness and she thought perhaps she’d taken her game a bit too far.
The lights flickered on. A quick look revealed a padded table and a shelf full of lotions and oils. A massage room. She peered up at John. He wore that same intensely arrogant stare she’d hated so much the first time they’d met. Strange, but it didn’t bother her now. In fact, it was kind of—
“Okay, beautiful,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s up?”
“Excuse me?”
He smirked. “The new attitude, Samantha. The last time I saw you, you hated my guts. Now you show up in this dress, you ask all sorts of personal questions and make nicey nicey, like you’re trying to butter me up for something. I can’t figure it out. You’re not looking for a husband, you’re not looking for sex—” his mouth twitched, “but you’re up to something. So, come on. Out with it.”
“Can’t a woman be nice to you without you becoming all suspicious?”
“Not you.”
“Haven’t you heard about us Geminis? We’re really moody, like a split personality. One minute we behave one way, the next we—”
“Samantha.”
She sighed, realizing he’d backed her into a corner, figuratively and literally. She smoothed her dress over her hips, hoping she could distract him with a better view. No such luck. “Okay. Look. I won’t pretend I was thrilled when you conned me into going out with you. I’d had a horrible day and was in a really bad mood by the time you saw me. So, about tonight… I figured I could continue to act like a bitch and make the evening miserable, or I could be nice and pretend to have a good time.”
His eyes narrowed. Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
He shook his head, still chuckling. “Most women would beat around the bush or make up some story, but not you. Honest to the core, aren’t you? I should’ve known.”
She smiled at him. Damn, she was good.
“So what’s with this dress? Is that just part of trying to be nice?” he asked, raking his eyes over her. His gaze lingered on her cleavage. Sam’s nipples tightened in response. She hoped he didn’t notice. His raised eyebrows told her he had.
“What? This old thing?” she drawled, fingering the shimmery material, hoping to keep the moment light. “It’s just something I had lying around.”
He moved in closer, backing her further into the corner. He reached forward and for a moment she thought he might kiss her — her lips tingled at the thought. But he just rustled her earring. The silvery strands tickled her neck. He met her gaze and held it. “Why do I still get the
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