Flirting with Temptation - By Kelley St. John Page 0,60

wasn’t it. I drank too fast.” She attempted to make it sound flippant, as though his words hadn’t hurt more than the brain freeze. “And what you said is true, except for the job part. For the past six months, I have been committed to one job, and I still am, which is why I want to make things work with you and Kitty.”

He nodded again, and she got the sneaking suspicion that he’d expected her answer. “That’s right, you have.”

“You said you had a proposition,” she reminded, because she was dying to hear what it was, and because she didn’t really want to talk about her commitment, or lack thereof, anymore. Unfortunately, his proposition brought that subject right back to the forefront.

“I do. You’re committed to your job as Love Doctor, right?”

“Yes.”

“And right now, in order to do your job, you need me to give Kitty another chance.”

“Yes.” So far, this was simple.

“Okay. I’ll talk to Kitty and see what she has to say . . .”

“Great!” Wow, that had been way easier than she’d thought. So she could get Jeff with Kitty, then she could get away from him, and away from all of the serious temptation that surrounded her every time he was around. She might even be able to keep from fantasizing about him with her, if she concentrated on the fact that he was back with Kitty.

“I wasn’t finished.”

Damn. “You weren’t?”

“Not hardly,” he said. “I’ll talk to her, if you prove that women can commit to something.”

“If I prove it?”

He nodded and smiled.

Babette suddenly felt very uneasy with where this “proposition” was headed. “How would I do that?” She took another sip of piña colada to prepare for his answer. And she was beginning to think he was right; piña coladas did make her horny. She kept picturing him on that couch, naked.

She looked away from him as he answered.

“How long are you down here, in Destin, for Kitty?”

“Two weeks total, but I’ve already been here for three days, and if you and Kitty got back together before my time ends, then I guess I’d go home early.”

“We won’t.”

She was secretly glad for that; she really liked the beach. “Okay.”

“Here’s my proposition: for the remainder of your time here, you remain committed to your job and nothing else. If you can prove to me that you can stay focused on that, then I’ll talk to Kitty.”

“Get back with her, you mean?”

“I’m not promising that, at all. I’ll listen to what she has to say, and then I’ll decide what will happen afterward.”

“And all I have to do is my job, which means talking to you about her, determining what feelings are still there, answering any questions you have about her and what happened back then, and conveying her thoughts, feelings and such to you. Right? Is that what you mean by committing fully to my job?” She could so do that, piece of cake.

“Not quite.”

As that slow smile spread back across Jeff’s lips, Babette felt the need for more piña colada. Holding her breath, she placed her empty glass on the end table and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“It’s not just commitment that concerns me,” he said. “It’s the fact that women simply can’t be satisfied. They’re constantly flirting, constantly on the hunt. I’ve heard that it’s believed that males think about sex three times as much as females. Bullshit. You think about it all the time, and you act on those thoughts, ever so subtly, all the time.”

“Are you talking about women in general, or me specifically?” she asked, irritation skimming to the surface again. He did know how to push her buttons.

“Both.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, that’s what I want to see. You prove it, and if you do, then I’ll talk to Kitty.”

“Prove it—how?”

“For the remainder of the time you’re here, you remain focused on the job and you forgo the temptation to flirt with every guy on the beach.”

“I don’t flirt with every—”

“Babette,” he said sternly, and she snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. What was he trying to do to her?

“I’m supposed to be at the beach for two weeks and not even flirt? In order to prove to you that women can commit?” she asked, appalled at his audacity to ask her to do something so ridiculous. It wasn’t as though she was some teenager, flirting with everything that moved, or every male that moved. She could control the natural impulse. “That makes no sense.” Although in