Charade: Impetuous / Outrageous. Lori Foster

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Tyler slowly rose from his seat. “All right, you. I think I ought to take you in hand. Talk about my manners!” As he advanced on her, circling the table with a menacing stride, Carlie shrieked and jumped to her feet, moving quickly to keep the table between them.

      “All right! All right! Tell me what you have to say.”

      Tyler advanced. “Too late. You’ve challenged my masculinity. And with my ego as enormous as you claim, that must surely be grounds for assault. Now you’ll have to pay.”

      She was trying not to laugh. He watched the grin grow on her face, and felt satisfaction. Chuckles emerged from between her tightly drawn lips. She clapped a hand over her mouth, still moving cautiously. He followed.

      Then Tyler lunged across the table, grabbing for her. She screeched in surprise, but it was already too late. He had her.

      Hauling her body across the table, his grip firm on her upper arms, Tyler grinned at her. She was laughing, her glasses were askew, her chest heaving. And he had the insane, almost overwhelming urge to kiss her.

      What the hell? he thought, and leaned closer, his eyes on her soft, slightly parted lips. He was filled with an anticipation that even surpassed what he’d felt at the pool house with the masked lady, and that had been shocking in its intensity. What he felt now was so alien to his jaded senses, he actually jerked when she spoke.

      Her voice wasn’t breathless. It was low and menacing. “Back off.”

      He did. Slowly regaining his wits, mortified by what he had almost done—to Carlie, for Pete’s sake—Tyler managed an unconcerned shrug. “I’ve never really...played with a woman before. I was only going to—”

      “Oh, please. Spare me. I know what you were doing.”

      “Uh, what?” Maybe she could tell him, for he certainly hadn’t a clue what had been in his mind. Carlie? Good grief.

      Carlie fussed with her glasses. “You’re playing games. I already told you, I won’t have it.”

      That sounded plausible, though not entirely true. But it helped him to regain his aplomb. “Of course I was playing. And so were you. That’s why you should date me. Ah-ah, just hear me out.” He waited until she sat down again. “Now, don’t storm out on me. I think we could enjoy each other’s company, at least, as long as we keep it platonic. I hope you didn’t think I meant—”

      “Why?” she interrupted, her tone sharp, her look suspicious. “Why would you want to spend more time with me?”

      “I like you. Really like you. You make me laugh.” Then he added, “And you keep me humble.”

      She snorted, then ignored his chastising look at the rude noise.

      “It would be good for us both. You would learn to relax a little, to concentrate on something other than your obligation to the school, and like I said, I enjoy your company.”

      “Surely there are other women whose company you would enjoy more?”

      “Perhaps. But for different reasons.” She opened her mouth, and he raised a hand in surrender. “I know. Uncalled for. Acquit me. But I’ve been really bored lately and...”

      He frowned at her bubble of laughter. “I’m perfectly serious, I’ll have you know. Here I am, laying my heart out to you, and you’re rudely stomping all over it.”

      “You know what, Tyler?”

      He didn’t trust her grin. “Probably not.”

      “It has been fun at odd and varying moments, which if you’re being sincere, is surprising to us both.”

      He grabbed his chest, feigning a heart attack. “What? You admit to enjoying my company? I’m not totally without redemption? I’m not totally cast down? Carlie McDaniels likes my company! What more encouragement could a man ask for?”

      “At odd and varying moments,” she clarified. “Okay, so where would we go and what would we do on these experimental, platonic dates?”

      “Then you’ll do it?”

      “Absolutely not. Not until you answer my question.”

      “I don’t know.” He hadn’t really thought things through. “The usual stuff?”

      “Such as?”

      “Dinner? Dancing?” He grinned, ready to elaborate and add to his list. “Roller skating? Bungee jumping? Body surfing?”

      “I could maybe handle a movie. It’s dark there and nobody would have to know I was out with a maniac.”

      He beamed at her. “Excellent choice. Tomorrow?”

      “Tomorrow is Saturday. Don’t you have a real date?”

      “Carlie, Carlie, Carlie. This will be a real date. Up to, but excluding, the good-night kiss.”

      Carlie twisted her mouth in apparent thought, chewed the corner of her bottom lip and studied her short, neat nails.

      “You’re not contemplating death, you know,” he said dryly. “I’ll even let you choose the movie.” He watched the fleeting expressions on her face, and saw her indecision, her...nervousness? Damned unaccountable female. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to actually beg for a date. It was a rather disturbing experience.

      “I can choose what we’ll see?”

      His heartbeat picked up speed. “Absolutely.”

      “A true concession. All right. I’ll go.”

      Tyler felt his muscles ease, and only then realized how stiff he’d been. He felt as if he’d accomplished something major. Carlie was no easy nut to crack. But he was determined to help her loosen up. He could help her with the children, easing some of her obligation, and also show her how to have a good time.

      He suddenly realized that things were starting to pick up. Boredom was a thing of the past. First there was that night with the mysterious, timid masked lady, whose identity Brenda refused to reveal, no matter how he cajoled. His curiosity over that little episode was still extreme; he’d never met a woman like her before. Sooner or later, he would find out who she was.

      Of course, he’d never met a woman like Carlie, either. She was as unique as any woman could be. He smiled, thinking of her again. Prickly, independent, outspoken Carlie. He surely had enough excitement to keep boredom at bay for some time to come.

      * * *

      “I can’t believe you chose this movie.”

      Carlie smiled in the dim theater, very aware of Tyler sitting beside her. He was dressed in jeans and a dark sweater. She could smell his after-shave, and his own natural, masculine scent. It was comforting, stimulating and very distracting. “I love Mel Gibson.”

      “Now, why does that surprise me? Oh, yeah. You’ve made it clear to me on several occasions that macho, sexy men are low on your list.”

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