Page 12 of Sinful Escape

“What?” Roman’s smile was so real that I had the crazy impression he liked what he saw. I wanted to slap myself. A man like Roman did not find a woman like me appealing. He’d just mastered the art of womanizing, that’s all.

But when his smile lingered, my insides did some kind of weird flutter thing that had me squirming on the seat.

“What?” he repeated.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Are you telling her about me?”

“What? No,” I blurted.

“That’s a yes then,” he said, deadpan.

“No, it isn’t.” I cocked my head. “I said no.”

“Verbally, you said no. But the rest of you. . .” he waved his finger at me, “said yes.”

I scrunched my face. “What are you? Some kind of psychic?”

“Nope. Just a younger brother. Trust me, four older sisters are all the psychic training I need. Women are crazy.”

“Oh, women are crazy? I’m yet to meet a man who’s completely sane.”

My phone buzzed.

Just send me a photo. I’ll decide

No way

Answer me then. Hot or hairy?

I swallowed a chuckle.

OK! He’s not hairy

Now I really need a photo

“What are you saying about me?” Roman jabbed his chiseled jaw my way.

“Jesus! Will you stop it? I’m not talking about you.”

“Really. What then? Sharing TV dinner secrets?”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Okay, if you must know, Zali is a single mom. Her baby just puked all over her, and I was seeing if she’s okay.”

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry.” He slumped in his chair. “It’s none of my business.”

Oh, God. Now I felt rotten. “And she was asking about you.”

“Aha! I knew it. What’d you say?”

A smile wobbled across my lips. “I said you were a hairy Italian who never stops talking.”

Roman burst into a laugh that was both sexy and contagious. “Hairy Italian? That’s it! Remind me never to ask you to write in a condolence card.”

I scrunched up my face. “That’s a bit morbid.”

He shrugged. “Living in a small town has its drawbacks when you know everybody and most of the population is old, we go to funerals at least twice a month. Can’t always rely on the wisdom in a Hallmark card.”

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