“Perhaps you misunderstood how the date works,” she said, just because he waited for a response. “Part of what you won is that I am supposed to provide you with a meal.”
“I’d rather provide you with a meal, but beggars can’t be choosers. Would tomorrow night work?”
Beggars couldn’t be choosers? What did he mean by that? Whether or not she agreed to coexist with him really didn’t matter a hill of beans in his achieving his career goals. He had to know that. She frowned. “Maybe we should just make the ‘date’ a lunch one.”
He shook his head. “I work through lunch most days and just grab a few bites of something when I can.”
So did she, most days.
“Okay, fine. Tomorrow night,” she agreed for the sole reason that the sooner she had her “date” with him, the sooner she had that behind her and wouldn’t have it hanging over her head like an executioner’s ax.
“Really?”
Why did he look so surprised? Then again, he didn’t know she’d gone to the TBI fund-raiser chairman and requested to purchase her date and void her obligation to Lucas. The woman had denied her request with a laugh that said she thought Emily was silly for even asking.
“Let’s get this over with.”
His smile made his eyes twinkle. “What time can I pick you up?”
She did not want to be seen with him in public, but she supposed most of her friends already knew he’d bought her date. Several of them had asked how it felt to be bought by the hospital’s hot new doctor. Ugh.
“I’ll meet you at Stluka’s.” She told him the address of the bar and grill that was not too far from her apartment.
“Sounds great.” He smiled and Emily’s brain turned to mush. Pure mush. Lord, help her. She didn’t want his smile affecting her, didn’t want him to smile and her nerve endings to electrify with old memories.
That was all that was causing the zings through her. Old memories and not that he was knocking down bits and pieces of the protective wall she’d erected between them.
Maybe she was being too hard on herself. Lucas was a beautiful man with gorgeous eyes and a quick smile. Plus, she knew what those long fingers, that lush mouth, his hard body, were capable of. She knew.
Darn. She needed Lucas repellent. Or Lucas resistant spray. Or something. Anything to give her the power not to respond to his utter maleness.
She didn’t want to respond to him.
He represented the worst time of her life.
He represented the best time of her life, a little voice reminded. Only, that time of joy had been short-lived and she’d spent years recovering from the aftermath.
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