Her Leading Man. Maggie Dallen

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СКАЧАТЬ She’d checked references, and they’d exchanged some e-mails….

      “How did you not recognize my name?” she asked.

      He outright laughed at that. “My assistant set this up. Besides, I figured Caitlyn was a made up name for you anyway.”

      “It wasn’t.” She would have thought they’d covered that already, but it was all she could think to say as her brain struggled to make sense of this scenario.

      She had to be the unluckiest woman on the face of the planet. Either that or she’d been a horrible person in her past life and karma was out for revenge. Those were the only explanations she could think of. Because, really—what were the odds that in a city of eight million, her date from hell and her new subletter were the same man?

      And what were the odds that man was a bastard?

      Chapter 3

      There were worse fates than finding oneself the temporary roommate of a beautiful, if prickly, former date. It certainly beat Ben’s last temporary living arrangement with his best friend and his psychotic, man-hating, verbally abusive girlfriend. Poor Gregory.

      Besides, the shocked look on Caitlyn’s face when she’d opened the door was well worth the discomfort of running into a woman he’d failed to call.

      He didn’t think he’d ever actually seen someone’s mouth drop open in surprise. And if her eyes had widened any more they would have popped right out of her skull. It was actually rather adorable. She was gorgeous with those cupid bow lips, delicate features, and wide pale brown eyes. She looked like a doll—a fragile, perfect china doll. Had she been this pretty on their date? His memory of that night was embarrassingly fuzzy, but he seemed to remember a slouchy hat and an oversized coat. He was certain she hadn’t been this attractive.

      This he would have remembered.

      After several moments of staring at one another, Ben broke the silence. “Are you going to let me in?”

      Caitlyn’s mouth snapped shut as he moved toward her, attempting to get himself and his bag off of the frigid front stoop and into the warm, lovely smelling apartment she was guarding.

      “You can’t come in,” she said.

      Now it was Ben’s turn to stare at her in surprise. Everything about this woman screamed sweetness and light, from her big brown eyes to her angelic little mouth. To hear an unpleasant remark coming from her was like hearing Santa Claus curse like a sailor.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      She started to push the door closed. “You can’t come in here.” She sounded panicked, and he realized for the first time that her look of surprise was rather more like a look of horror.

      Oh no.

      He scratched his head and considered the woman before him. “Look, about the other week…”

      Her eyebrows lifted and her lips set in a grim line.

      “I’m really sorry I never called.”

      Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. Ah hell, now he’d gone and embarrassed her. His brain scrambled to think of a version of the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech that wouldn’t get him into even more trouble.

      “I just don’t think I was ready to start dating. I thought I was but then—”

      “I’m not mad that you didn’t call,” she interrupted. Her look of annoyance belied her statement.

      “Okay then,” he said, gesturing toward the apartment. “So can I come in?”

      She was still watching him expectantly, as though waiting for him to say something. He wished he knew the magic words because it was goddamn freezing out there.

      “Look, I know this is a bit uncomfortable for both of us.” Mainly for him as he was the one freezing his ass off. “But if we could be adults about this—”

      “You were…rude.” Caitlyn spit the word out and Ben looked at her in surprise.

      “I’m sorry?”

      “You should be sorry, you were a…a…” He watched her with more than a little amusement as she struggled to come up with a curse word to describe him. The amusement was tempered by a vague, and unfamiliar, sense of guilt.

      Why couldn’t he remember that night? Well, he knew why he couldn’t remember that night, but it was frustrating as hell. He would kill to know what he said to make this gorgeous woman spitting mad. Unless it wasn’t something he’d said. The vague guilt erupted into a horrible fear. “If I did anything inappropriate”—he waved his hands vaguely, at a loss for words, which was an even more uncommon sensation—“if I kissed you or touched you in a way that—”

      “You didn’t.” She’d crossed her arms in front of her chest and was looking at him now like he was crazy. He exhaled in relief.

      “You don’t remember,” she said. It was not a question, and he was grateful for the lack of judgment in her eyes. He felt rotten enough without a guilt trip.

      “No, I’m afraid I don’t.” He watched her nibble on her lip as she studied him. “Judging by your reaction to me and the fact that I have very little memory of that night, I’m inclined to believe you when you said I was an asshole.”

      Her brows drew together. “I didn’t call you an asshole.”

      “You were going to,” he said.

      “I wasn’t. I was going to call you a jerk.”

      “Asshole is better. More vivid. The efficacy of cursing is all about the mental image it summons.”

      He thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward, and a jolt of pleasure shot through him at the realization that he’d nearly made her smile. He found himself dying to see that smile. So he fell to his knees.

      * * * *

      “What are you doing?” Caitlyn’s voice sounded shrill, even to her own ears.

      Still on his knees, Ben clasped his hands together and looked up at her with comically wide eyes. “Please let me in.”

      Caitlyn didn’t know whether to laugh or shout for help. Her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Dubois, came out of her apartment and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of this handsome man on his knees on her doorstep. And now that stupidly sexy face was turned up to her, his dark eyes looking pathetically like a puppy dog.

      She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother the giggle. “What are you doing?” she asked again, this time while tugging on his arm to get him to stand up before Mrs. Dubois came over to investigate.

      He didn’t budge. “My dearest…” He paused and Caitlyn raised a brow in disbelief.

      “Caitlyn.” Seriously? The man had mental issues.

      “Caitlyn. Of course.” He cleared his throat to start again. “My dearest Caitlyn, I unfortunately СКАЧАТЬ