She placed a hand on the car and looked at the back of the
house. "I'm sure you've guessed why I asked you to walk
out here with me. We need to talk about what happened the
other night." She shook her head and opened her mouth to
say more but nothing came out. She lifted her hand from
the back of the Lexis then set it back down again. "I'm
not sure where to begin."
He could help her out. Clear things up real fast and tell
her they hadn't slept together, but it wasn't his job to
make her life easier. One thing he'd learned from his
years as a journalist was to just sit tight and listen. He
leaned his hip into the car, crossed his arms over his
chest, and waited. Several thin strips of sunlight picked
out deep auburn strands in her brown hair, and the only
reason he could think of for why he even noticed was
because he was trained to notice small details. It was his
job.
"I'm guessing we met in the bar at the Double Tree," she
began again.
"That's right. You were throwing back Yaggermeister with
some guy wearing a backward ball cap and a wife beater."
Which was the truth. Then he broke his just sit back and
listen rule and added a little lie for fun. "He had a nose
ring and was missing a few teeth."
"Oh God." She pulled her fingers into a fist. "I'm not
sure I want to know every detail. I mean I probably should-
up to a point anyway. It's just that . . ." she paused and
swallowed hard. Sebastian's gaze slid from her mouth, down
her throat to the top button of her blouse. She was wound
tight, but there was another side of her. One he'd seen
the other night. One that didn't pull her hair back and
string pearls around her neck before noon. He wondered if
she was wearing that pink bustier beneath her bland suit.
It had been dark in the hotel room, and he hadn't gotten a
real good look at it before she'd whipped it off.
"I'm usually not the sort of woman to drink myself into
oblivion or invite men to my hotel room. You probably
don't believe that, and I don't blame you. I . . . had a
really bad day, which you already know about," she
rambled. As Sebastian listened, he let his mind drift, and
he wondered if she had on a thong beneath that virginal
suit. Like the one she'd worn the other night. That thong
had rocked. He wouldn't mind seeing that thong again. Not
that he liked Clare much. He didn't, but not every woman
could wear a thong and look that good in it. He'd traveled
the world and seen his share of thong clad women. It took
a woman with a firm butt and just the right junk in her
trunk to pull off a thong.
". . . condom."
Whoa . "What?" He looked back into her face. Her cheeks
were turning a bright shade of red. "Come again?"
"I need to know if you used a condom the other night. I
don't know if you were as inebriated as I was, but I hope
you remembered. I realize that it was my
responsibility . . . as much as yours, of course. But
since I wasn't planning to . . . to . . . I didn't have
any with me. So, I'm hoping you did and that . . . well,
you were responsible and used it. Because in this day and
age there are serious consequences from having unprotected
sex."
She'd accused him of taking advantage of her when she'd
been drunk. Pretended he didn't exist and now it sounded
like she was getting ready to accuse him of giving her
something really unpleasant.
"I have an appointment with my doctor at the end of the
week, and if we didn't use a condom, I think you would be
wise to do the same. I thought I was in a committed
relationship, but. . . You know what they say, it's not
only the person you're sleeping with, but everyone they've
ever slept with too." She gave a nervous little laugh and
blinked her eyes a few times as if she were fighting back
tears. "So . . ."
Sebastian looked at her standing there, with the shadows
playing in her dark hair and touching one corner of a
mouth.
He remembered the little girl with huge glasses who'd
followed him around as a kid, and just as he had all those
years ago, he began to feel a little sorry for her.
Damn it.
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