Accidentally Expecting. Michelle Celmer

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      “Ms. Reed,” he replied, with an affable tip of his head. He had the voice of a radio DJ—deep and mesmerizing. A voice that held captive auditoriums full of his loyal supporters for hours on end. “May I join you?”

      She gestured to the empty seat, taking care to make the move look as gracefully seductive as possible. If there was one thing she’d learned on her journey to becoming a modern, independent woman, it was how to seduce a man. “Please.”

      He set his drink on the table and hung his jacket on the back of the chair before he slid into the seat, casual yet so controlled, as if he thoroughly planned each and every move before executing it. “Are you enjoying your stay in New York?”

      “It’s been…interesting.” Not to mention frustrating and humiliating. “Between the book signings and the interviews it’s been an exhausting couple of days. I’m looking forward to getting back to Dallas.”

      “I had hoped to have time to speak with you after the broadcast.”

      “So you could rub the victory in my face maybe?” she asked, keeping her tone sweet.

      He smiled. “No, so I could tell you what a pleasure it was to meet you. I enjoyed our discussion. I was impressed.”

      She shot him a disbelieving look. “Could have fooled me.”

      He just smiled. “Do you still practice law?”

      “Not recently, no. The book seems to have dominated my life.”

      “I take you’re not a litigator.”

      “Gee, what tipped you off?”

      He relaxed back in his seat and sipped his drink, studying her for a long moment. “I could tell you exactly what you did wrong during that interview. How you lost control.”

      She folded her arms and leaned forward, resting them on the table, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, thanks to her very-low-cut, scoop neck silk blouse. “This should be good.”

      His eyes didn’t stray from her face. “You attacked me. You spent all of your time trying to convince me that your way is better. That your opinions hold more credibility.”

      “Isn’t that exactly what you do?”

      “Quite the opposite. I never once said that what you believe is wrong.”

      She opened her mouth to argue, then paused, trying to remember a single thing he’d said to debunk her. But damned if he wasn’t right. Not once had he directly challenged her opinion or disagreed with her. While she’d been quick to accuse him of being old-fashioned and closed-minded he’d simply stated his point of view logically and calmly.

      She hadn’t lost control. She’d never had it.

      “It is not my goal or intention to persuade people to live a cardboard-cut-out lifestyle,” he said.

      She let out a very uncouth, unsexy snort of disbelief. “That is exactly your goal.”

      “I disagree.” He was so damned calm and rational. It was as annoying as it was fascinating. “What I do is give people options. A very basic principle of family dynamics. Whether they choose to adopt that lifestyle, or how they integrate it into their own lives, in whole or part, is entirely up to the individual.”

      As much as she hated admitting she was wrong, and hated being wrong even more, in his books, which she’d grudgingly skimmed, and the seminar she’d rented on DVD, she couldn’t recall a single incident when he’d said his way was the only way. Maybe that was what made people so receptive to his ideas.

      She tried a different angle. “You’re not married. In fact, I read that you’ve never been married.”

      “Not yet,” he agreed.

      “Why not?”

      He shrugged. “I guess I just haven’t met the right woman.”

      “Maybe that’s because the kind of woman you’re looking for doesn’t exist.”

      “I don’t believe that. Everyone has a soul mate. I just haven’t met mine yet.”

      “Considering your views on sex before marriage, you must lead a very…lonely existence.”

      “I believe in waiting until the relationship becomes exclusive and committed before sex. And though I’ve never been married, I’ve been in several committed relationships.” He leaned forward slightly, flashing her a playful, sexy look that had her toes curling in her spiked heels. “Very satisfying committed relationships.”

      Oh, boy, who was doing the seducing here? Or maybe he was just a tease. Either way, she was having far too much fun. And he had no idea who he was messing with. Considering his conservative views on relationships, she could only assume he would be equally conservative in the bedroom. Given her preference to be in charge, the arrangement would work well for her. Maybe she could teach him a thing or two.

      She sipped her drink, looking up at him through the fringe of her lashes. “How can a man who has never been married be an authority on marriage?”

      “Does a psychiatrist have to have schizophrenia to treat it? Does a defense attorney have to be a criminal to represent his client?”

      The man had an answer for everything, didn’t he? Yet it was fascinating to watch, really, to see the way his mind worked. He was passionate without being arrogant, staunch in his views but not intolerant of her opinions. It also didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, had a body to die for and a more than decent sense of humor.

      As they chatted and sipped their drinks, she found herself lulled by his voice, trapped in the depths of his eyes. There were women all around them but he never spared one a single glance. His eyes were on her only. His steady gaze made her feel as if she were the only one in the universe.

      More than two hours and several drinks later, despite the fact that she was beginning to feel more than a little tipsy, they were still at it. Still talking and debating. And all she could think about was getting him up to her room, liberating him from his clothing and showing him a thing or two about real women. What would his lips feel like? How would he taste? Would he take charge, or would he lie back and let her be in control?

      Her yearning for revenge was overshadowed by a much more basic instinct. Good old-fashioned sexual attraction. She and Zack may have had completely opposite views on relationships, but they also had chemistry. A lethal combination of hormones, pheromones and testosterone.

      She could tell that he felt it, too. The longer they sat there, the more aware of each other they became. Aware and distracted. His eyes began to stray to her cleavage, their gaze as intimate and exciting as a caress, but pure somehow. He watched her mouth as she sipped her drink, making every move feel slow and exaggerated. Seductive and sexy. When his foot bumped hers under the table, she didn’t doubt the move was intentional. Instead of feeling violated, she wanted to be closer. She became aware of herself leaning in toward him and saw that he was doing the same. As if they both felt compelled to be closer. The pull of attraction was irresistible.

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