Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,66

it,” she whispered, but, of course, did just that. She read the message several times, but couldn’t convince herself of any hidden meaning in the innocuous words. And she shouldn’t expect any, she scolded. Her note to him had been just as bland. But what could she have sent instead?

Hey, Shane, just wondering if you’re still available and interested in a fuck buddy? Stupidly yours, Arden.

Her words to Aislin flew back at her. She had meant them. And yet, her memories of Shane, naked in candlelight, sent a shiver through her powerful enough to peak her nipples even now.

Her fingers moved on the keyboard, crafting her reply.

I’m glad you wrote back. I saw your company’s website. It looks very successful. Congratulations.

Signing it with only her initial gave the letter the same casual feeling as his, though she felt anything but casual about sending it.

She sent the message and sat back, her heart still thumping. She shook her head at her foolishness and returned to her note to Lida, keeping her Connex page open at the side. She’d only typed a few words when a red one appeared on the Connexmail icon at the top of the page. Curious, she minimized her email to Lida, then sat back in her chair, a wide grin on her face.

He was online. She clicked on the message, sent only moments after getting hers. The note was brief, and again her eyes scanned it multiple times, trying to glean any hidden meaning behind the words.

Yeah, the business is doing well. It keeps me out of trouble.

No signature, not even an initial, this time. She looked over the words once more, then crossed her arms over her chest while she stared at the screen. Contemplating.

Shane had been a master of innuendo and double entendre, of veiled meaning and subtle invitation. She’d also known him to be blunt to the point of being shocking. The trouble was, she’d never learned how to anticipate which approach he’d take.

She typed fast, so as not to give herself too much time to think. Glad to hear you’re staying out of trouble. It’s nice to see you’re doing something that makes you happy.

Send.

She went back to Lida’s note, but her fingers stuttered so much on the keys she misspelled every other word. She tried to pretend she was not looking at the Connexmail icon every few seconds, but she was.

Her program was set up to automatically collect mail every five minutes, but she had no idea how often Connexmail refreshed. Besides, not even two minutes had passed. Could she refresh the entire page? That would be desperate. That would be stupid. If he was going to reply tonight, surely she could wait another few minutes.

“Oh, you bugger,” she muttered as she refreshed her browser window, and no new messages appeared.

Again, she opened her email to Lida and tried to type. Maybe he went offline. There was no reason to think he’d waited for her reply. Maybe he’d just happened to answer her so fast from coincidence, and now he was offline. Doing something else, like she should be doing, instead of waiting like a high school girl for the phone to ring...

A small red number one appeared.

She kept her fingers firm on the keyboard and forced herself to finish typing Lida’s note. She read it over to make sure she had been semi-coherent and hadn’t made any more glaring spelling errors. Satisfied she wouldn’t be sending anything embarrassing, she clicked Send.

Now she could turn her attention to the new message in her Connex inbox. Arden hesitated before clicking on it, but it took her only three seconds to read what it said

Who said I was happy?

No mistaking the helluva lot of potential meaning in that. Arden stared at the words, pondering how to reply. He’d left it wide open for her. There was no good way for her to construe that as anything but a leading statement. The question was, what was he leading her to?

You’re not happy? That’s too bad, she typed and sent.

She ought to go to bed. It was now nearing eleven, and the morning would come way too early. She stared at the computer screen so long it flickered and began to disintegrate into the screen saver again. She tapped the keyboard to stop the swirling colors. Still no new messages.

“Stupid,” she muttered and minimized the browser window. “Go to bed, Arden. He’s not going to answer tonight.”

She had some invoices to catch up on though, and