That hair—-

Bleached blond would be the crass and most tasteless way to put it. Jane’s lip curled unconsciously, and she was so repulsed at the thought that she failed to notice how the focus of her attention was also staring at her.

And those eyes—-

If someone said they were baby blue, she might be held liable for murder. The best was to quote Karen Carpenter, Jane thought, golden starlight, blue eyes, and all that.

A corner of the man’s lips folded up in a smirk, and it was only then Jane realized that he knew she was staring at him.

Shit.

Jane’s gaze automatically moved to her watch. I still have time.

She looked around them and relaxed when the vast cocktail area remained empty. She looked back at the man.

And he was alone, Jane thought. That was a bonus!

Not allowing herself to think, Jane walked forward and, clearing her throat—-

“Hi.”

She wanted to kick herself right after. That was so lame.

Thankfully, the man was nice enough to pretend he, too, didn’t find her pick-up line pathetic. Instead, his smile widened, and he said, “Hello, pet.”

Her eyes widened. British? And then her heart started to beat just a little bit harder and faster. British...and he had called her pet.

“So...” She cleared her throat again, trying to think of the best way to get some action going, but nothing came to mind. In the end, all she could do was clear her throat another time—-

Please God, don’t let him think I’ve got bronchitis or something, that would be so not sexy.

“So...” And she cleared her throat one last time. “Do you want to make out?”

“Err...no.”

Jane blinked.

That...was unexpected.

Or should she have expected it?

Whatever.

Right now, she just...needed to get the hell out of here, before she started dissolving into a humiliated heap on the floor. Jane managed a smile. “No hard feelings.” The words came out of nowhere, and this time she was convinced she would melt. Only people who did have hard feelings said that.

But as Jane whirled around to leave, a strong hand caught hers from behind. “Where are you going, pet?”

He had just turned her down, and he was still calling her pet?

“Outside,” Jane muttered, her back to him. “To kill myself. Wouldn’t want to do it here. Not at all polite.” And that was true...but why was she suddenly speaking in fragments?

The man chuckled. “Please don’t, pet.”

And that’s the third pet, Jane thought, annoyed. Was this man making fun of her?

“You didn’t let me finish,” the man continued.

Her teeth gnashed. So he wanted to explain why he was turning her down? Was that—-