“Uh, yeah.” But somehow that didn’t seem to be the point right now. “So you thought about, what? A quick fling?” He could start with that, maybe work up to more....
“You weren’t listening to my instructions a minute ago, were you?” Typically Clair, she turned to walk backward so she could see his face. “I thought I was more than clear that men want it quick. I want it slow and easy. I want to—”
He swallowed hard.
“—take my time.” She continued pacing backward. “But there’s that mystery lady occupying you right now.” Her sigh was absurdly long. “So we can just go on being sexless buds. No problem.”
No problem? What about his boner? That was a definite problem. And his curiosity, which was so keen he suddenly felt obsessed with knowing Clair intimately. And there was a strange excitement he’d never felt with any other woman, too. Maybe it was the way she insulted him so energetically. “I may never meet that woman, Clair. I mean, I know Alec and Dane are good, but that doesn’t guarantee they’ll find her.”
“And if they did?”
How should he answer that? The mystery alone made him want to approach the woman, to talk to her, to find out how she knew him and why she hadn’t ever told him how she felt. There was her sex appeal, and the notes, her sincerity and admiration...
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Clair reached out and clasped his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “Come on. No more lagging. Time to run.”
“I don’t think I can.” He’d never run with a hard-on before. It didn’t seem all that comfortable.
“You can,” Clair assured him, “or you’ll be heading home alone, because I’m not walking. I’m tired and I want to get to bed.”
“So you can fantasize,” Harris accused. Possibly about him. The way her hand tightened shored up that belief.
“Maybe.”
He did not need to hear this. She dragged him along, never once releasing her hold on him, and in a few minutes, they were jogging again. At the pace she set, it didn’t take them long before they were on their own street. This close to the burned building, the lingering scent of smoke still hung in the air. It reminded Harris of his reaction when he’d feared Clair might be involved in the fire. His reaction had been extreme, and that was before she’d been flirting with him.
He also thought of the shoebox he’d found, and the tantalizing prospects it had presented. Harris was strangely aware of the photo in his back pocket, and Clair’s hand in his.
Two women, both of them making him nuts.
What the hell was a guy supposed to do?
* * *
CLAIR STOPPED in front of her steps. So far, Harris seemed more than a little interested in sex, but she wanted more than that. She wanted him to want her, in and out of bed. She felt manipulative, teasing him and then pulling back. Making comments that she knew would get him thinking about sex. But she didn’t know what else to do.
And already it was working with Harris. He wanted her now—but he still wanted her alter ego, the Naked Lady, too. Somehow, she had to get him to give up the fantasy prompted by those stupid photos.
Feeling awkward, Clair said, “It’s early yet.”
A light sheen of sweat dampened Harris’s bare shoulders and chest. He had his hands on his hips, breathing deeply, watching her. “You pulled our run short.”
Clair shrugged, adjusted her glasses nervously. “Want to come up?”
His gaze sharpened. Like a blue laser, his gaze pinned her in place. Slowly his hands dropped from his hips and he took a step closer. “Are you playing with me again?”
Man, he was still primed, ready to jump the gun—apparently ready to jump her. “I’ve had you up to my place a dozen times, Harris. For drinks, a snack.”
His hands came to settle on her waist. “For more?”
Despite her urge to say yes, Clair laughed. “We’re both sweaty and you have to be up early.”
“I’m never too tired for—”
“Will you send me in alone if I say I just want to talk?”
For a brief moment, his hands tightened, then the heat left his eyes and he released her with a sigh. “What the hell. I always enjoy talking to you.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Lead the way.”
Her apartment was dark when they first went in. Clair turned on lamps as she headed to the kitchen. “You want something to eat or drink?”
“Just some water.” He trailed behind her, far too close, in Clair’s opinion.
She filled two glasses with ice, then got the spring water from the fridge. “So tell me what the attraction is.”
“To you?”
He looked perplexed enough that Clair wanted to hit him. “No, not to me. Far as I know, you’re not attracted to me.”
He cocked one brow, then looked pointedly at her body. “I’d be more than happy to prove you wrong on that.”
Clair groaned. “So then why do you want the woman in the photos so bad? She gets naked and that makes you so interested you can’t let it go?”
He immediately shook his head. “She does look hot, no way around that. I mean, any woman who’s comfortable being naked is okay in my book.”
“Really?”
He grinned. “Hell yeah. If it was up to me, all women would stay naked. At least when we were alone together.”
That had Clair blushing a bit, especially as Harris let his gaze roam over her, no doubt imagining her in such a state. Not that he had to imagine, if he only realized....
“But the woman in the photo also said some nice things in her notes.”
“So?”
Harris rubbed the back of his neck and paced away. He had a gorgeous back, strong and broad, sleek and hard with muscle. His shorts rode low on his hips, hugging a narrow behind and strong thighs. “This is kind of embarrassing.”
She knew all about embarrassing. “Why? We’re friends.”
He nodded, turned to face her. “She said I’m generous.” Harris looked uncomfortable. “And funny and heroic.”
Men could be such dolts. “Well, of course she did. Because you are.” Clair handed him his water. “You’re one of the greatest guys I know.”
The water never made it to his mouth. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“But I didn’t know....”
“Harris,” she said with aggrieved sigh. “Do you think I’d hang out with a guy who was an idiot?”
His mouth tipped in a crooked grin. “You call me an idiot all the time.”
Too true. It had always been her way of making sure she kept her feelings to herself. A self-protection mechanism of sorts that reminded her she wasn’t to get too romantic with Harris.
Clair moved back to the living room and dropped onto her overstuffed, oversize couch. She stretched out her legs, caught Harris staring at them, and smiled. “Yeah, well, I insult you with affection. I don’t mean it.” She sent him a quick grin, just to keep her comments from getting too dramatic. “If I didn’t like, respect and admire you, I wouldn’t want your company.”
His brows came down, his expression arrested. Clair stared at him over her glasses.