Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(62)

“Do not start in on my hair. I was born with it, okay. It’s like making fun of someone with a birth defect.”

She heard him sigh. “We’re talking about simple physical attraction brought on by some moonlight, a little dancing, and too much liquor,” he said. “Do you agree that’s what this is?”

“I guess.”

“Basic physical attraction.”

“I suppose.”

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but it’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good time.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it was fun. The dancing,” she added hastily.

“Damned right it was. So we got a little carried away. Nothing more than circumstances, right?”

Pride and self-respect dictated that she agree. “Of course.”

“Circumstances …and a little animal instinct.” His huskier pitch began to sound almost seductive. “Nothing to get worked up about. Are you with me?”

He was throwing her off stride, but she nodded.

He moved closer, his gravelly whisper a rasp over her skin. “Perfectly understandable, right?”

“Right.” She was still nodding, almost as if he’d mesmerized her.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

She kept nodding, no longer remembering exactly what the question was.

His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “Because that’s the only way …you can explain something like this. Pure animal attraction.”

“Uh-huh,” she managed, beginning to feel like a bedazzled, bobble-headed doll.

“Which sets us free”—he touched her chin, the barest brush—“to do exactly what neither of us can stop thinking about, right?” He dropped his head to kiss her.

The night wind hummed; her heart pounded. Just before his lips touched hers, his eyelids flickered, and she glimpsed the faintest hint of cunning loitering in those green irises. That’s when it hit her.

“You snake!” She pushed against his chest.

He stepped back, all wounded innocence. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Ohmygod! You’ve just put me through Sales 101. I bow to the master.”

“You’ve had way too much to drink.”

“The Great Salesman asks just the right questions to get his mark agreeing with everything he says. He makes her nod her stupid head until it feels like it’s coming off her neck. Then he dives in for the kill. You just tried to make a sale!”

“Have you always been this suspicious?”

“This is so you.” She stomped toward the path, then spun back because she had so much more to say. “You want something you know is totally outrageous, and then you try to sell it with a combination of leading questions and fake sincerity. I just watched the Python in action, didn’t I?”

He knew she had his number, but he didn’t believe in conceding defeat. “My sincerity’s never fake. I was stating the facts. Two single people, a warm summer night, a hot kiss …We’re only human.”

“One of us, anyway. The other’s a reptile.”

“Harsh, Annabelle. Very harsh.”

She advanced on him again. “Let me ask you a question, one business owner to another.” She planted her fingernail in his chest. “Have you ever had sex with a client? Is that acceptable professional behavior in your book?”

“My clients are men.”

“Stop weaseling. What if I were a world champion figure skater on my way to the Olympics? Let’s say I’m a favorite for the gold medal, and I just signed you as my agent last week. Are you going to have sex with me or not?”

“We only signed last week? That seems a little—”

“Fast-forward, then, to the Olympics,” she said with exaggerated patience. “I’ve won the stupid medal. Only the silver, since I couldn’t land my triple axel, but nobody cares because I’m a charmer, and they still want my face on their breakfast cereal. You and I have a contract. Are you sleeping with me?”

“It’s apples and oranges. In the case you describe, millions of dollars would be at stake.”

She made a rude buzzer noise. “Wrong answer.”

“True answer.”

“Because your megabusiness is so much more important than my silly little matchmaking agency? Well, it might be to you, Mr. Python, but it’s not to me.”

“I understand how important your business is to you.”

“You don’t have a clue.” Pinning the blame on him felt so much better than assuming her rightful share, and she stomped back to the picnic table to grab the flashlight. “You’re just like my brothers. Worse! You can’t stand having anybody say no to you about anything.” She thrust the flashlight toward him. “Well, listen up, Mr. Champion. I am not somebody you can pass the time with while you wait for your spectacular future wife to show up. I won’t be your sexual entertainment.”

“You’re insulting yourself,” he said calmly. “I may not be crazy about all of your business practices, but I have nothing except respect for you as a person.”

“Great. Watch me build on that.”

She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Heath gazed after her as she disappeared into the trees. When he could no longer see her, he picked up a stone, skipped it over the dark water, and smiled. She couldn’t have been more right. He was a snake. And he was ashamed of himself. Okay, maybe not at this exact instant, but by tomorrow for sure. His only excuse was that he liked her so damned much, and he hadn’t done anything just for fun in longer than he could remember.