“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’d heard of you and I kind of thought… Well, considering your reputation, I thought maybe you were a no-strings-attached kind of guy. And, obviously, I’d want a no-strings-attached kind of, um, encounter. Not a date. Not in public.”
“You mean you…? You’d want to…”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. This is so wrong, especially after what just happened. Jamie, I really like you, but I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t get involved with a guy like you.”
He took a deep breath. “You… Jesus. ‘A guy like me?’ All this talk about being open-minded, but you seem pretty damn narrow-minded about me.”
“Oh, there you go,” she said, relieved that her ridiculousness had removed any chance he’d like her. “Yet another problem! I’ve exposed myself as a hypocrite, another good reason not to get involved.” She was nodding, but Jamie was shaking his head in what appeared to be utter shock.
Beth’s courage was gone. She’d taken control and been honest. She’d embraced her sexual desires. But now that she’d managed that big step, it was time to run away and regroup.
“Okay!” she said brightly. He jumped as if he’d been lost in thought. “I’m sorry about…” She gestured toward his lap. “And thank you. Just… I’m sorry.”
She started to slide out of the booth, but he put a hand on her wrist to stop her. “Wait.”
She froze.
“You’re not exactly the kind of woman I usually date, either.”
Beth stiffened. “From what I’ve heard, you date all kinds of women.”
He blinked as if she’d surprised him, then he shook his head. “Regardless, I meant to say that I’ll leave, and we can still see each other. Later. Tomorrow. No one needs to know.”
Her heart stopped beating for a painful moment. She thought of his hands, his scent, the gorgeous mouth she wanted so badly to taste. And then she thought of the childish panic she’d felt at the sight of Cairo. She clearly wasn’t ready for this.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she sighed.
“Think about it.”
She shouldn’t. But she knew she’d spend all night thinking about it regardless, so Beth nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But no promises.”
This time when she slid away, he let her go.
Beth walked away from him as if it were easy. As if everything was back to normal. But inside, she was changed. She could feel it.
CHAPTER FIVE
TWELVE HOURS LATER, Eric’s brain hadn’t stopped spinning. He kept staring at the horizon, trying to steady himself, but the horizon was a convention hall filled with milling people, so that didn’t help. Still, it kept him from gawking at The White Orchid’s booth. Mostly.
Today she wore a black skirt. Just as conservative and businesslike. Just as fantastically cupped over her ass as the brown skirt had been. But this one had a little pleat at the back of her knees that flipped out when she walked.
And the heels. The heels were deep red. How was he supposed to keep his eyes off her for more than a minute?
He let his gaze slip up from her shoes to her calves then over that magnificent ass. The rest of the way up her body, he was telling himself to look away, look away… He should’ve taken his own advice, because when he reached her face, he realized she was staring back. He held her gaze until she closed her eyes, then he cursed as he turned back to the stacks of promo coasters he was unpacking.
How the hell did she consider Eric the inappropriate half of this puzzle? As if he could be seen with Beth Cantrell, for God’s sake. He was a business owner trying to promote his place as a respectable brewery, not a party bar. And he was, for all intents and purposes, the head of his family. He had an innocent little sister to think of. My God, what would Tessa think if she found out Eric had dated a woman like Beth? What would she imagine?
Not that Beth could know any of that. She thought he was a man primed for meaningless sex.
Christ, he’d been crazy even to flirt with her.
But when he turned around to grab another box, his peripheral vision hinted that Beth was looking again. Tension swept through his body, painful at first, but as the tension faded, it left behind a warmth that haunted him like a ghost.
When was the last time he’d felt true physical anticipation? The kind of suspense inspired by the mystery of a